#57 - Wings

#57 - Wings

Unprepared, he thought; "Ok, I'll have to wing it!"
How often had he waited, patiently, in the wings for his chance to strut his stuff, show off his talent, only to be left there unneeded, unnecessary? Year after year, performance after performance, always ready, like the curtain, and the props. Just another nearly invisible accoutrement, barely noticed, yet told he was an important, integral asset to the success of the production.

After thousands of shows, always ready to step in to the starring roll immediately, he began to lose interest. He was either late for, or skipped rehearsals altogether. The script was given a cursory scan or not read at all. His reading material now was the want ads. Seeking new opportunities to find himself, find a focus, he was elsewhere in his mind.

Right before his eyes, Johnny had had a spell, a stroke they said. John Meriwether Whistlestop was down for the count. The star of the show, of countless shows, couldn't go on. He watched, dumbly as Johnny was wisked away to the Big City Teaching Hospital (BCTH).

"Mr. Lebeau, Mr. Lebeau Make up right away!"
"You're on in twenty minutes"

Wouldn't you know it! a once in a life time chance and he was going to have to wing it!

D. and her trek partners made it back from Spain safely, but exhausted last Saturday at midnight. It's taken D. all week to overcome jet lag and the after affects of their 75 mile trek through the Pyrenees.

She took scads of photos and brought back many souvenirs, as well as some funny tales. It's her story to tell however so I'll leave it at that.

***************

Spring made a return visit this week, after ridding her self of the late blanket of heavy wet snow that interrupted her earlier emergence. The flowers just seemed to put themselves on hold 'til the snow disappeared.

Unfortunately the snow did more than make pretty pictures. Today (this morning) I spent cleaning up the debris from downed lilac trees and half a honeysuckle bush that bit the" dust", or damp loam if you prefer. Lots of kindling and sweet smelling fire wood for camp fires this summer at the cottage on the river. I used a hand saw since I figured that mixing gas and getting the chainsaw in working order would take considerably longer. In the process of cutting up the felled lilac I knelt down and, of course, reinjured my right knee that was just starting to feel normal after the injury a couple months ago. That cinches it...I won't be running in the Ottawa marathon this year.




















Now I'm off to write a Sunday scribbling about "wings"

P.S.
to #23;
I was climbing a ladder into the tree in the backyard today to cut out some dead wood. This was of course after I'd reinjured the knee. My neighbor Bill was out in his adjoining yard and he said, "aren't you a little old for that tree climbing bit?"
I answered,"Nope, I'm only 29 you know!"
He shook his head and smiled. ;-)

Villanelle

The words stuck in my head
Refusing to take their place
Leaves my soul feeling dead.

No reason given me instead
Just trapped in enclosed space
The words stuck in my head.

Never written, still unread
Aimless words no form embrace
Leaves my soul feeling dead.

Befuddlement brings on dread
Tightening my breathing space
The words stuck in my head.

Withdrawn mood leaves unsaid
true feelings, now misplace
Leaves my soul feeling dead.

Mind and heart, words unwed
Makes a void in tattered lace
The words stuck in my head
Leaves my soul feeling dead.

#56- Rooted

#56- Rooted

The prompt this week -- "Rooted" -- is inspired by the name of Sunday Scribblings participant Gautami Tripathy's blog. It's a wonderful word; I love visual of tree roots sinking deep into the soil -- it's such a great metaphor for our connection to our land or culture. Write about your roots, or your rootlessness perhaps?

He was in the attic rooting around through boxes of old clothes, discarded furniture and other assorted miscellany. His parents never threw anything away. When things became outdated, or passe they would be put in the attic, the cellar, or the garage. Books were always stored in the attic where they were less likely to succumb to mold and mildew. There was the problem with rodents. He recalled the time his father found one of his books partially destroyed, like some one had had a book sandwich for lunch. Flummoxed at first, he soon discovered a mouse boudoir neatly lined with bits of what once were pages in a book. From that day on he made sure that there was an amble supply of dried blood thinner available for their easy access. Any subsequent visitors of their ilk found a less than hospitable abode to take up winter housekeeping in.

Ahha, there it was, the book he's been looking for. He'd been sure in remembering that his father had spent years compiling an extensive family genealogy. Of course he'd expected to find it in the library, not in the attic. In fact he'd spent two days rummaging through his dad's library before finally checking out the attic. How or why it ended up in the attic was beyond him. His mother had probably put it up there, after dad died, when she had tried to put some order to his father's haphazard filing system. Which is to say, he adhered to no filing system at all. She would have seen no reason to to keep the genealogy record in the library, having thought his time spent researching his relatives and ancestors a waste of time.




His father had grown up in this house, as had his father before him. In fact, his great grandfather had built this house himself.




His father had been right though. He'd told Limerace that someday he too would feel the pull to know his past; where he came from, who had come before him. He's said, "son, I put down roots here, anchored myself to this place. Your mother and I raised a family here and we prospered. You may not settle here, but you'll always be from here. All of your life you will have a sense that you are a part of this place, this town, this State. That feeling of belonging to a place is what I call being rooted. In time", he continued, " you'll put down your own roots, and raise a family. Your seed, your offspring, will always say 'I'm from here or there'. It's good to feel that you belong."

And so, here he was, sitting in his father's attic reading the family tree, tracing his past. He read about many places where his ancestors had put down roots, and he felt connected. He read about Phillipe Couillard de Roque-brun who had been rooted in Auch, France. He thought to himself, It's time to go back home and visit my roots.









Hmmm, Limerace wondered if he might be related to D'Artagnan.

0400 16 April 2007

0500

0600

0700

Tempest's power swirls,
Stuns springs timid emergence.
Nor'easter punched in.

#55 - Secret Identity

#55 - Secret Identity

I have revealed a few of myselves to you already, but not the me you would recognize if we met face to face. While I can't reveal to you my current identity, ...I'd have to...well you know, I can tell you about some of my previous personas.

The Entity created me from the orion nebula back in the future some fifty thousand years or so ago. I was "born" to Blissnobiarella on the planet Terminus. In all of my subsequent incarnations, I have been, and am still a writer of one sort or another. So as not to appear too conspicuous my physiognomy shows the changes associated with the normal aging process, but in reality I am always twenty-nine years old. I was created to be the recorder of the universe's continuum. More recently I have been sent here to this planet in the Milky-Way to specifically record the events leading to the end times on this planet ant it's coming new millennium. The Entity is gathering information from all the inhabited planets in an attempt to refine his creations and have perennially; peace and harmony amid the chaos.

My first entry to this planetoid was in the year 551 (as measured by your time line). I was born to a poor family who lived in the village of Zou in the state of Lu, in what you know as ancient China. I was named K'ung Ch'iu. I was married at the age of 19 and had one son and 2 daughters from this union. My father died when I was 3 which was the cause of our poverty. When I was twenty-four my mother died and it was then that I started my career as a teacher.
After 72 years, your time, I moved on to other incarnations. I left behind many teachings and sayings which have survived to this day:
1. ," If you governed your province well and treat your people kindly, you kingdom shall not lose any war. If you govern selfishly to your people, you kingdom will not only lose a war, but your people will break away from your kingdom."
2. "Do unto others as you would have others do unto you." This has been called by many, the Golden Rule.
3. "To be able under all circumstances to practice five things constitutes perfect virtue; these five things are gravity, generosity of soul, sincerity, earnestness and kindness."

My next manifestation (secret identity) of note came about when I was born in Venice in 1725 to actress Zanetta Farussi, and Michele Grimani. I was the first of six children. My father died when I was eight. It was one of the most memorable personnas that I have inhabited to date. I obtained my doctorate in Law from the University of Padua, where I had studied moral philosophy, chemistry, mathematics, and law. I was keenly interested in medicine and later in life regretted not having made a career out of it, although I became an eager and often instinctively good amateur doctor. I left behind to be perused if you are so inclined; my autobiography "Histoire de ma Vie "(Story of My Life), regarded as one of the most authentic sources of the customs and norms of European social life during the 18th century, in which I also mention 122 women with whom I had sex.

My last years were dull, painful, boring, and frustrating and I left that visage after 73 years in 1798.

Almost immediately I returned, being born in 1799 In France. I honed my writing skills and became a very famous novelist. Upon my death in 1850 I was immediately reincarnated in the body of a women. I was born in Boston, to a high-profile family. During my life, I wrote over 90 books, including children's, biographies, poetry, and others. A well-known children's poem for which I am noted is the nonsense verse "Eletelephony."

My mother, was famous for writing the words to The Battle Hymn of the Republic.

Two years after my death in 1943 I was reborn in my present incantation. I am here to record the end times for inclusion in an encyclopedia for the new millennium. The Entity has endowed me with enormous powers, including special insight, compassion, caring and transference.

To discover other secret identities skip over here.

Dear Remiman,

I have a question for you to ponder that I've started thinking about...



Have you ever said to yourself "Man, if I was __ age again, I would do

this..." ?  It seems to me that I think that every so often.  Not that I

regret what I've done or where I am in my life... but whenever I look back

at pictures or remember how my life was then, etc... I find myself

saying... If I was 21 again, I would have no fear doing "fill in the

blank"...



I think about it more as I approach my 30th birthday... and I think man I

wish is could be 21 again.  but if I step back, I realize that in only 10

short years I will be 39 about to be 40, and I anticipate I will think

"Man, If I was 29 going on 30..."  I guess its a continuous lesson in Carpe

Diem!!!



But my question to you is, If you were given the gift of "turning back the

hands of time" and you woke up tomorrow 29 going on 30, what would you do

tomorrow afternoon?



Sincerely,

#23

Dear #23,

If I woke up tomorrow, age 29 going on 30, what would I do?
The simple answer and not being glib in anyway, is that I would do exactly what I did the first time around.

I do understand that your question is more rhetorical, representing a major "passage" for you, rather than expecting to hear some : "If I had it to do over I'd do such and such."
I have few if any regrets about the choices I've made in this lifetime. If I were to go back now and change some decision, new or different, then I wouldn't be the person I am now, nor would I be here in this place. More importantly...neither would you (hypothetically.)
29 going on 30 was a very traumatic time for me. Of all the decade transition times, it was the hardest. Turning 40, 50, and 60 were marked as mile stones only, but without much emotion.
My 58th year was a little stressful since that was the age my father was when he moved on to another plain. I worried that I'd suffer a similar fate. Other than that, I've always felt growing older beat the alternative.

In her best-selling 1976 book, "Passages: Predictable Crises of Adult Life," Gail Sheehy defined 30 as the beginning of midlife. I read that book in 1977 at age 32. It was a most revealing book and helped me understand my feelings. I didn't want to be 30 because that was "old age", I wasn't a kid anymore, I was a grown-up now, and most importantly it was the age when I began to realize my mortality. I now knew that I was no longer 6 feet tall and bullet proof. Even though at age 30 I'd already been married for 8 years, had a 7 year old daughter, and a 3 year old son, I didn't see myself as old enough to be "30." Thirty was "over the hill." You were no longer in the "in" crowd. Young folks didn't talk to people over thirty because they were adults and couldn't/wouldn't understand.

Yesterday, Dr. Thompson asked me: "rel, how old are you? I mean in your mind, not your chronological age. How old do you feel? " I said "29. Well, actually I'm in better shape now than I was when I was 29."

I was in Korea for most of my 29th year, with the U.S. Army. The tour was unaccompanied, meaning I had to leave my family stateside while I served a year there. Because of all those your getting older thoughts, I decide to get back to my "fighting weight", get back into shape and hold on to youth for as long as possible. Stave off father time if you will. Remember I was still in my twenties, so I could do anything. I went on a diet: for 30 days I ingested only water and tea. I lifted weights everyday, I ran everyday (the 2 packs-a-day of non-filter Camels couldn't slow me down). I played inter mural baseball and touch football. I played tennis everyday. I lost 30 pounds in 30 days, and ended up in the hospital for a lymph node biopsy of a huge lump under my right arm. Long story short...the doctor said: eat! So I did; one meal a day (well balanced..500 cal. a day) for the next 30 days. So, in 60 days I had lost 40 lbs and weighed what I had at high school graduation. When my wife joined me for the month of Oct., she didn't even recognize me when she got off the plane.

Your feelings are normal. Everyone will experience what you are feeling and thinking now. More meet it at 40 than 30 but it is a universal rite of passage.

Carp Diem!

You said, "

I find myself

saying... If I was 21 again, I would have no fear doing "fill in the

blank"..."

Remember, you can always be 21 in your mind, just like I'm 29. Now you can do what ever you choose without fear.

I remember a conversation I had 11 or 12 years ago with 3 young, cocky, devil may care men.
One said to me: "Dad, we've been talking and we were wondering, we notice that whenever you decide to do something you just go ahead and do it, like, you know, nothing stops you. You always do what ever you say you're going to do."
Me: " yeah, so what's your question".
Son; "Dad , we were wondering, why you smoke?"

#23, age is just a number, don't ever let it stop you from doing anything.
Carpe Diem!

Remiman

Kurt Vonnegut died today he was 84. I think that's a good age to die. I think I'll aim for 84. I mean....we all have to kick the bucket, it's in the script_ right?

So why not pick the age you want to go and then work backwards to now and figure out how you're going to achieve that goal?

Reading my blog roll (is that something you eat? Would only a poet think that?) today, I came to Kristin's and she had a link to the NYT obit for Kurt Vonnegut. As I was reading the obit the word melancholy (I love words, don't you?) not only grazed my stream of consciousness, but infused my body...every fiber. I don't know why. I guess it one of those mysteries of the universe. I realized that I've always had a problem understanding that word, melancholy. It never conjured up an image in my mind before now. Don't misunderstand, I've had plenty of times when I was sad, despondent but the word melancholy never seemed to be the word to describe my feelings.

Kurt Vonnegut died today:

So it goes.

*********************

His last book, in 2005, was a collection of biographical essays, “A Man Without a Country.” It, too, was a best seller.

It concludes with a poem written by Mr. Vonnegut called “Requiem,” which has these closing lines:

When the last living thing

has died on account of us,

how poetical it would be

if Earth could say,

in a voice floating up

perhaps

from the floor

of the Grand Canyon,

“It is done.”

People did not like it here.

*******************

"The gravity is very light today. I have an erection as a result of that. All males have erections on days like this."

Kurt Vonnegut

Week # 45 Bridges.

Imagine bridges,
Twins, each spanning half earth's globe.
Internet blogsphere.




The outstretched hands clasp ___
Grasp the hope for tomorrow.
Friendship embraces peace.


Moonbeams cross river,
Silver path between countries
Takes peaceful journey.

I have an online blogger friend, Elisabeth, over at "As my world turns" who posted today about her experiences meeting face-to-face with online friends.

More often than not, Elisabeth's posts stimulate my brain's thinking process and today was no different, with the exception that this post prompted me to respond with a post of my own rather than comment on her blog.

I've, as yet, not met face-to-face with any of my online friends. If an opportunity to do so presents itself, I will make the effort to meet them.

Online, we can present any face we choose. We may develop a sort of virtual person that is no true reflection of who we are in real life. In fact if a friend from our "real" life were to read one of these fabricated personnas, they might say "I don't know this person, it's not the so and so that I know". On the other hand we might only display a part of our real selves to the online community, while hiding those things we find embarrassing or at least uncomplimentary. If that is the case and you do meet one of these folks face to face, it can be expected that we will see someone different than we anticipated. Does that make our online friendships less real? And, really do we do anything less in our "real-life" relationships?

I've worked in my current place of employment since 1969, with a 5 year hiatus to go to nurse anesthesia school and pay the Army back for footing that bill. About ten years ago a nurse who worked the wards and had been there as long as I'd been in the OR applied for and was given a job in our ambulatory unit. One day she heard me joking around with a group of co-workers. Later she mentioned to them that she was surprised at how talkative and social I was. She said that she had always thought of me as a quiet, reserved, timid sort of fellow. Everyone, I mean the entire group of my co-workers looked at her and said en mass, you certainly don't know rel at all!!! Yet we had been acquaintances for 20 years prior to her coming to the OR. So, I ask you, for this woman, which rel was I?

We , each of us, are an amalgamation of different personnas. We are different with our boss than with our bosom buddies, We are different with our lovers than with our friends. We treat strangers differently than our close acquaintances. And yet we can also be friends with each one. How is that, and what does it have to do with Elisabeth's post?

It all has to do with expectations.
A year or so ago I borrowed a book from a friend which was about an interview with the Dalai Lama. In this book the Dalai lama discussed expectations as being the root of most people's disappointment in life.
After reading this passage I came away with this caveat, if we suppress or set aside our expectations we'll be happier.

Those of you who have read my blog for awhile might recall a trip my wife and I took this past November to Arizona. It was a business trip as I was attending an anesthesia conference. The first evening we attended a "get acquainted" dinner. We arbitrarily chose to sit with another couple who were sitting alone at a table for four. We had never met before, and the only commonality was that at least two of us were nurse anesthetists. As the evening progressed we discovered that we shared many more interests than anesthesia. There was a significant disparity of some thirty years in our ages, yet we "hit-it off" immediately and over the course of the week spent most of our time together. While Scott and I were in meetings, my wife and Michelle shopped and saw the sights. Every evening but one we went out to dinner together. In short, over a period of a few days we developed a keen friendship.
Over Christmas we exchanged Christmas cards and an e-mail. We've not communicated since. I still think of them as friends and I would not give up the time we spent together even if I could have fore-told that we probably would not sustain that friendship over the long term.

Scott, Michelle, Diane, rel
Tuscon Arizona Nov. 2006

When I was in Anesthesia school We made friends with a couple and we became best of friends. Guy and I graduated as co-valedictorians of our class. We partied together often and cooked holiday dinners together. We were inseparable. After graduation he took a job in a city two hours from my home, I on the other hand had to repay my debt to the U.S. army for footing the bill for my education. My friend Guy and I corresponded regularly. When I was to leave for an overseas assignment to Korea, D. and I stopped and spent a few days with Guy and Gail and in fact I went to the hospital with him one day to show his employers my skill at anesthesia as a prelude to my applying there for a job upon completion of my military obligation. We've not seen each other since. That was in 1972. Guy and Gail are divorced and Guy is retired. Two years ago we started corresponding again but only sporadically and usually around holiday time. I think he reads this blog from time to time. If I could have known that this would have been the outcome of befriending this fellow, would I have refrained from making friends with him. No! I value the time we spent together and still recall fondly many of the good times we spent together.

Online friendships are online friendships. If perchance you meet face-to-face and a friendship develops; hip hip hooray. If not, does it make what you had online any less? Online friends are worth something. It's like finding a gold coin or a rare relic. It's a real relationship where you share ideas and like thoughts and even differ from time to time. By and large it's a friendly caring support network of kindred spirits. Unless the blogsphere is controlled by a wizard of OZ, these are real people with real lives that I'm corresponding with and I consider them real bonafide friendships.

I've made 10's of thousands of friendly acquaintances over the course of my 61 years. I look back at many with fond appreciation of the time we shared. I don't rue the fact that they ended.
Do I regret not marrying all the girlfriends I've had in my life? No way. Do I remember them fondly? You bet I do....But my wife of forty years was the best choice then and now. Are we a good match? Most of the time. Other times we're like fire and water. What's important is that most of the time we complement each other. We shine in our differences.

Of all the many people I met, I liked and like most of them. A few, I've allowed to get under my skin and fester like a tick, but I'm working on forgiving them for being such assholes.

My hooch-mate from Viet Nam, Pappy, calls me every year on or about the 10th of November (the Marine Corps Birthday.) We were friends of circumstance. We shared a war and espirit de corps.

A few years ago, he came from Colorado to spend a few hours with me. We had a couple of beer, and ate dinner...his treat. We talked about where our lives had gone since Nam. He asked me, "Goofy, I thought you were going to become a doctor?" I said, "Pappy, things change!" We parted with a hug and a smile, a smile between two men who shared a life altering experience. Who were the best of friends for a few months over forty years ago. "Take care Pappy." Take care Goofy." He called last November, while I was in Arizona making new friends, and left a message on the machine.......! No expectations, just living each day, one delightful moment at a time.

rel (goofy) and Sonny (Pappy)

Vietnam 1965

Online friendships are a gift. A gem is a gem. If you don't hit it off face-to-face, the friendship that led you to seek out the meeting is still a gem.

#54 - In the news. . .

#54 - In the news. . .

Obituaries

The news, the purveyor of ‘new things,’ dies at 606

By Limerace Orgilis Lebeau

Published April 8, 2007

The News, a disseminator of new happenings. Enjoyed a long history of keeping humans up to speed on the affairs of the day through diverse outlets both print and wireless, died today, April 8, 2007 at the world’s doorstep. The News was 606.

The death was announced by Google, with whom The News had become closely affiliated with in recent years.

Since the 15^th century The News has brought reports of recent events including; births, marriages, deaths and local as well as wider ranging events to the awareness of the masses. Amassing the goings on of world events such as wars, elections, natural disasters, public works projects, crime and attendant punishments, It provided unbiased information. This was always a source of pride and accomplishment for The News and the journalists who worked for It.

In the past five or so years as reporting became shallower, and thinner, the health of The News declined. The stress of the continuous pressure from the corporate owners and the advertisers weakened The News to the point where it was too much of a burden to live under. The line between information and entertainment became less distinct. The old culture of reporting became overwhelmed by arguing. Less attention was paid to complex issues, and reporting became incorrect and careless. Those with the expertise to resuscitate The News were too busy making trees into dollars to attend to saving the news.

The News leaves behind thousands of journalists mourning its demise. The News bequeathed to the journalists, as well as the people of the world;

The Blog

Yesterday, Good Friday 4-6-07, my wife and two friends left to spend two weeks in Spain. They flew from Montreal to Madrid. I'm assuming they have arrived, not having heard yet from them. They will be doing the touristy thing in Madrid and will be going to Grenada also. Eventually they will make their way to Sarria to begin a 60 mile hike on a portion of the Camino de Santiago De Compostela. They will hike 60 miles over 6 days starting in Sarria and ending in Santiago de Compostela.

This trip is to commemorate the 60th birthday of my wife and one of the two friends. Hence the 60 mile portion. Actually her friend will, in fact, celebrate her 60th while they are on the trail.

***************

And so, I shall be a bachelor for the next two weeks. Meaning I'll spend Easter by myself. My choice! My daughter extended an invitation from her partner's mother for me to join their family for Easter dinner. It is a 4 hour drive, at least, to eat and then have to drive 4 hours back on a busy, hectic holiday Sunday. Then work Monday morning. So I graciously declined. To M. and J. Happy Easter. J. thank your mother for her gracious offer.

My son who lives 5 hours away, offered to come home to keep dad company. His girl friend has invited him to her family get together. I thought it much better for him to stay where he is and leave dad to fend for himself. He talked to his mother so I'll say here...Thanks for the offer J. but stay with K. and have a Happy Easter. Besides, I haven't got time to make up and hide a basket for you in the dryer.

My other son Who lives in Texas, as do his daughters, my grand daughters, Happy Easter to you all! Eat sparingly Bob. All my love to you, H., C., B., K., and L.

Imagine my chagrin at having a whole day to myself to read and write! Oh well, too bad, too sad. ;-)

I didn't even tell my brother ;-)

Easter Dinner!

******************

Thursday I received this delightful Easter card full of warm wishes from far away Manitoba, (they really can't afford to be giving away any warmth themselves ), from my blogging friend and her family all living in "Shrew Towers". Although you may find them up at Wittering Heights.
What a nice and welcome surprise to brighten my day! Thanks E., R., and S.. Happy Easter!

*****************

My bestest friend and cutest pixie from Pea's Corner in bloggerville has awarded me one of her five choices to bestow upon, the thinking blogger award! I am surprised and totally grateful to be honored thusly.
First of all because it came from Pea, who chose me from her gazillion commenters and blogs she visits daily. Secondly, Pea has been the driving force behind my blogging nearly everyday for 11 months. Thank you my friend for the award, but more importantly...for your faith in me. Oh, an incidentally...for finding my blog interesting. ;-)

The thinking blogger award was started as an offshoot of the numerous memes that circulate around the blogsphere on a regular basis. the blogster who started the '5 Blogs That Make Me Think' meme is found here.
The rules state:
Should you choose to participate, please make sure you pass this list of rules to the blogs you are tagging. I thought it would be appropriate to include them with the meme.

The participation rules are simple:

1. If, and only if, you get tagged, write a post with links to 5 blogs that make you think,
2. Link to this post so that people can easily find the exact origin of the meme,
3. Optional: Proudly display the 'Thinking Blogger Award' with a link to the post that you wrote (here is an alternative silver version if gold doesn't fit your blog).

That was that! Please, remember to tag blogs with real merits, i.e. relative content, and above all - blogs that really get you thinking! It is the first time I am starting something with my blog so I hope it doesn't come back to haunt me.

5 Blogs That Make rel Think;

Let me preface this by saying that I only read, routinely, blogs that I find interesting and that make me think, ponder, mull over, reminisce, and stimulate my imagination.
I read many more than 5 blogs regularly, many have been awarded this award already...whew.
For today I'll choose from the most frequent commenters to my blog who haven't already been picked elsewhere.

Congratulations, you won a
1. Chiefbiscuit: This wonderful Kiwi is a talented and fluid writer of both poetry (published) and prose. I find her powers of observation to be a quality to be emulated. She is a quick wit and constantly holds my attention with her words and now her photography. I think: I want to be like her.

2. Rowan: You'll find this remarkable woman over at the Circle of the Year. I met her when she made her first post to Tea over at Tea & Margaritas. Rowan is a kindred spirit became an instant friend. She is a talented gardener, photographer, knitter, and landscaper. She is activie in her community and is extremely well read and appreciates culture and the finer things of life. Yet she is unpretentious and as down to earth as you could ask for. Her interest in medieval history drives her to seek out and study, at on site restored villages and farms, the "old" ways. I think: I want to sit and have tea and walk the wooded byways with Rowan, and chat for hours.

3. Jellyhead: She's a wife, a mom, an Aussie, a daughter, a granddaughter, and a sister. She's also a doctor, and a friend. Coincidently she is a talented and witty writer. She tells of her faux pas and accomplishments with equal aplomb. She make me think of what and how the perfect family should be. She's not afraid to say I'm scared or I'm worried. She makes me think: why can't more doctors be like her.

4. lee: Another Aussie, with a sense of humor that is matchless. She is to me the personification of; just do it! she's done a life time and a half of living and isn't done yet. she loves to entertain and is an accomplished chef. (when she denies liking to entertain, try not to laugh). She's warm hearted and a compassionate friend but does not suffer fools graciously. Oh, did I forget to mention that she is a terrific writer and freely tells tales of her exiting adventures. I think; I'd like to visit lee.

5. Elisabeth: Elisabeth is my French connection! A professor of French at university she is an outspoken from the heart wonderful person. Her essays on everything from cookbooks to sexual relations are well thought out and fair and equitable. She views life with an honesty that is refreshing and makes me wish I could be more open. Elisabeth makes me re-examine how I want to live my life. I may not change but because of her I know I can.



Happy Easter to one and all.
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