Tuesday, December 22, 2015
Reminiscing...
We all do it.
We can't help it.
We all drift.
We have moments in our lives when our minds travel their way backwards, back to gentler memories, simpler days.
It happened to me today.
Out of nowhere, this blog popped into my mind; actually, a specific post from this blog, and, ironically, it's the only post I can't find in here. No worries. I was fulfilled by the opportunity to reminisce, all the same. I am smiling. =)
I miss writing.
Blogging seems like a lifetime ago.
The luxury of time has evaded me far too long.
So much has changed. So many things have happened...I wouldn't know where to begin.
Perhaps, one day, I will again be afforded the opportunity to hide behind my alias and blog 'til my heart's content.
Someday...
Til then -
Who remembers me out there? Anyone?
And so...the widget ticks. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
Peace. Love. Blessings.
Kimba
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Snow in Michigan
I hate it! We just got dumped on with about a foot of snow. It's white. And cold. And messy. I'm wanting to get away somewhere warm.
Just checking my blog to see if any of my former online blogging friends are still around. Nope.
Peace people.
Just checking my blog to see if any of my former online blogging friends are still around. Nope.
Peace people.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Good as New!
I haven't posted to this blog in well over two years. I don't think I would've even remembered having it still if it weren't for HockeyDino, a friend of mine, getting his Facebook account hacked three times in the past year (not worth writing the details about - I don't know them, anyway). He reminded me of Kimba The White Lioness while we were chatting yesterday.
Funny, I haven't thought of the lioness in a couple years...seems like a lifetime ago that I blogged under my childhood alias. In fact, it seems like a lifetime ago since I've blogged (or written ANYTHING - other than school papers) under my adult nickname, even, "Kiki B." Time simply hasn't allowed my creative forces to spring forth to over-flowing, I suppose.
Anyway, it's a new year. A time for bright, new beginnings! So who knows...maybe you'll see Kimba The White Lioness on the prowl again soon?!
Enjoy your year (if anybody is even out there anymore) who followed my writings. Send me an email, if so. Would love to hear from you.
P.S. I just discovered (when Googling my screen name) that there are other Kimba's out there in the vast Internet. Some, even, masquerading as The White Lioness! Hmph! (The nerve of them!) Be assured, there is only one TRUE Kimba - and I'm your girl! ;) LOL
Funny, I haven't thought of the lioness in a couple years...seems like a lifetime ago that I blogged under my childhood alias. In fact, it seems like a lifetime ago since I've blogged (or written ANYTHING - other than school papers) under my adult nickname, even, "Kiki B." Time simply hasn't allowed my creative forces to spring forth to over-flowing, I suppose.
Anyway, it's a new year. A time for bright, new beginnings! So who knows...maybe you'll see Kimba The White Lioness on the prowl again soon?!
Enjoy your year (if anybody is even out there anymore) who followed my writings. Send me an email, if so. Would love to hear from you.
P.S. I just discovered (when Googling my screen name) that there are other Kimba's out there in the vast Internet. Some, even, masquerading as The White Lioness! Hmph! (The nerve of them!) Be assured, there is only one TRUE Kimba - and I'm your girl! ;) LOL
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
WANTED!
WANTED: Men and women with the wisdom of Solomon, the patience of Job, and the nerves of David before Goliath. Needed to prepare the next generation for productive citizenship in the twenty-first century, often under adverse conditions. Applicants must be willing to fill gaps left by unfit, absent, or working parents; satisfy demands of local bureaucrats and state politicians; impart healthy self esteem; and oh, by the way, teach content!
Hours: 50 to 60 hours per week
Pay: Growing respectable
Reward: The luxury of always knowing that you are doing something significant with your life
*************************************************
This little tidbit describes where I've been lately, and how I've been spending much of my time.
I wish I could tell you an exciting tale of how I've been accomplishing nothing more than the carefree slacker lifestyle, become a beach bum in a tropical island paradise wiling away the hours every day by socializing with the locals and sipping Pina Colada's with li'l umbrellas hanging out the sides... but alas, no.
Several months ago, I made the decision to change careers (a 22-year career) from the Medicolegal field to that of Education. Much of my time recently has been spent embarking upon that transition process, as well as my return to the university to undergo the necessary classes to complete my Teacher's Certification. Yes, the professional has become the student, and will eventually become the teacher. I plan to teach students in public education. Yes, you heard me right - PUBLIC.
Many have asked me "why" a person who is well established in her career, life, and finances would alter the path she had chosen so long ago. My answer? Simply because I long to influence the lives of the next generation in an impactful way. I hope to encourage and impassion the youth of today to become their own personal best in life. I want to inspire this generation of children and teenagers, empowering them with the necessary tools to foster lasting change for the good of all people. This generation of youth is tomorrow's leaders. It is through this effort, education, that the world's tomorrows shall be altered - hopefully for the better.
That said, much of my time recently has been spent in classes or doing homework, or conducting observations in the school system. It's a lot of hard work, but I'm committed to this decision and I'm actually enjoying the process, despite the stressors of exams approaching in two weeks. I've done well this semester, a perfect 4.0 GPA, though it has been a struggle at times juggling my school agenda, part-time work, and family life. I have a three-week school break coming up in-between semesters shortly, and I'm in desperate need of a respite... a time to relax, refresh, and refuel before my next round.
Hours: 50 to 60 hours per week
Pay: Growing respectable
Reward: The luxury of always knowing that you are doing something significant with your life
*************************************************
This little tidbit describes where I've been lately, and how I've been spending much of my time.
I wish I could tell you an exciting tale of how I've been accomplishing nothing more than the carefree slacker lifestyle, become a beach bum in a tropical island paradise wiling away the hours every day by socializing with the locals and sipping Pina Colada's with li'l umbrellas hanging out the sides... but alas, no.
Several months ago, I made the decision to change careers (a 22-year career) from the Medicolegal field to that of Education. Much of my time recently has been spent embarking upon that transition process, as well as my return to the university to undergo the necessary classes to complete my Teacher's Certification. Yes, the professional has become the student, and will eventually become the teacher. I plan to teach students in public education. Yes, you heard me right - PUBLIC.
Many have asked me "why" a person who is well established in her career, life, and finances would alter the path she had chosen so long ago. My answer? Simply because I long to influence the lives of the next generation in an impactful way. I hope to encourage and impassion the youth of today to become their own personal best in life. I want to inspire this generation of children and teenagers, empowering them with the necessary tools to foster lasting change for the good of all people. This generation of youth is tomorrow's leaders. It is through this effort, education, that the world's tomorrows shall be altered - hopefully for the better.
That said, much of my time recently has been spent in classes or doing homework, or conducting observations in the school system. It's a lot of hard work, but I'm committed to this decision and I'm actually enjoying the process, despite the stressors of exams approaching in two weeks. I've done well this semester, a perfect 4.0 GPA, though it has been a struggle at times juggling my school agenda, part-time work, and family life. I have a three-week school break coming up in-between semesters shortly, and I'm in desperate need of a respite... a time to relax, refresh, and refuel before my next round.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Carried Upon the Billowing Breeze
Every Autumn, I have recurrent thoughts about a person who was of great importance in my life. Though his memory is forever bound within my heart, it is during that change of season each year that the memories seem more alive to me, more vibrant than at other times...
I remember some of my friends idolizing certain music stars like Ted Nugent or Aerosmith when I was growing up. They vowed to pluck away at those skinny little guitar strings until their fingers bled, in their quest to achieve the ultimate ‘Rock Star’ status. In my mind’s eye, I still vividly see them strumming away at this melody or that, amplifiers screaming, their sound resonating off the concrete basement walls during some of the jam sessions I attended.
There were furthermore those friends who aspired to one day become the next best
female figure skater the world would ever know, surpassing the US Olympic Champion at the time, Dorothy Hamill. Ice skates would be donned and laced to the hilt for hour after hour of grueling practice week after week. Gliding across the ice they’d go, poised, hurdling through the air, and dancing on skates until their little legs could barely support their frames any longer.
Personally though, I never had an idol that I looked up to. I never aspired to be “like” anyone. Although I received much pleasure from music, sports, and the Arts every bit as much as the next child, the only person I ever really remember observing and being somewhat awestruck by was my own father.
I’m not certain as to why my dad stands out in my mind as my “hero” of sorts. For sure, he never came to my rescue by slaying a 50-foot fire-breathing dragon that was on my tail and endeavoring to massacre me. Nevertheless, he was my knight in shining armor in the battlefield of life on numerous occasions while I matured. Looking back, I recognize now how his being the warm, devoted, upright person that he was on a daily basis had an enduring affect on me becoming the good person that I would become as an adult, more so than observing any famous person from afar ever could have. Largely because of him, I am who I am.
My father, Richard, was born into a large family in Hamtramck, Michigan in 1936. He was the
youngest of six children, five vivacious boys and one eccentric girl. His family dwelled in a yellowish two-story brick home on Wyandotte street, just off of Joseph Campau. The houses in that neighborhood stood shoulder to shoulder. It was quite the hefty-sized home and occupied much of the city lot wherein it was situated. There was a narrow dirt alleyway running behind the backyard, where the aluminum garbage cans were stored in metal racks. Trash was collected by city workers there. The backyard was like a matchbox, half-filled with an assortment of vibrant flowers that Babu, my grandmother, lovingly nurtured. The other half was overflowing with a large vegetable garden containing beans and cucumbers, lettuce and potatoes, carrots and celery, and every imaginable item grown that would be eaten fresh, as well as canned during the harvest. It was their custom and the way they always did it back in the old country. At that period in time, Hamtramck was a predominantly Polish community culturally. Its residents were largely bilingual, many of them having just emigrated from Europe. My grandparents were amongst them and began their family when settling there.
Being the youngest, and my dad always said the cutest of the children, he got away with a lot more than his siblings did in life. When chore time came ‘round, the natural order of things guaranteed he’d be left with the most minuscule of tasks for completion, as my grandmother always assigned responsibilities beginning with the oldest child first, on down to the youngest. “Richie, go sweep the dirt off the back porch”, my grandmother would say when the bulkier tasks requiring completion had already been doled out. “Yes, mama”, my dark-haired, blue-eyed father would reply. He was an obedient child, compliant, and one who matured into a fine young gentleman. He entered the US Army immediately after high school graduation. There he became an amphibious truck driver, which is a military vehicle that is capable of operating on land or in water.
Thanks to his older siblings, my dad had an enormous amount of extra time on his hands while
growing up in the city. As a result, his interest in music raged. He never played a musical instrument, himself, but oh, how he adored the sounds of music and listened to it any time or place and in any form that he could. If there was a concert in the park or a live band performing at a tavern down the street from his house, the sweet melody reaching his ears, that’s where he could be found. The radio, record player, or television set were always alive with the hum of a skippy beat when he was near. It never took him very long to begin snapping his fingers with the rhythm or tapping his toe on the floor, as my dad and whoever the artist-of-the-moment happened to be, dramatically belted out the lyrics together in their deeply masculine voices. Half the time, I don’t believe he was even conscious of his singing, but others noticed, particularly if we were in public. They would merely grin at him, in the same manner in which my dad’s own lips were constantly turned up in delight at the corners. He was always a joyful guy. If we were at home in our living room, up he’d bounce off that hideous gold velvet couch to the middle of the red shag carpet where he’d dance, dance, dance ‘til his heart content. My younger sister and I would glance at each other humorously, raise our hands in front of our mouths with embarrassment, then giggle at him as we watched, the way little girls do when they think their father’s acting like a silly goose.
One time in particular on a dreary, drizzly Saturday afternoon, when my dad was at home babysitting my sister and me, a song was playing on the radio. The drum and guitar sounds exploded in full force, and the song began. It was music by Elvis Presley, his favorite singer, entitled “Blue Suede Shoes. “ His face lit up as he recognized the tune instantly. He cranked up that old radio dial and said, “Kimmy, come stand on daddy’s feet and we’ll boogie to the music!” He held my petite hands within his own while I perched atop his shoes, balancing myself in place, as he danced me around the room like a princess on her throne, spinning and twirling me, hopping, sliding, and bopping across the floor. I never laughed so hard in my life, as did my sister when it was her turn next. I must’ve been about six or seven years of age. Over the years, we shared many dances similar that one until finally, I was deftly capable of dancing on my own two feet to the beat. It’s an understatement to say that I attribute a great deal of my love for music to my father, crediting him for having fostered his own affection for it in my home environment when I was young.
As time drifted on I grew, as children do. My father’s love for song became my own while I sang everywhere in life, church and school choirs, special events, eventually a band, and learned to play the clarinet, as well. I gained a great appreciation and admiration for classical as well as modern music through the head start my dad imparted in my life. As for the dancing, that tradition continued to take place over the years, as well. Music always abounded. Eventually, it was passed on down to my own children through me. My kids enjoyed it every bit as much as I did when I was small, their lithe bodies attempting to balance atop my feet as I’d swing them around the room in sync with the beat. Music makes for happy times.
There is one dramatic thing that changed in my life as a child though. My father became ill shortly after this recollection began. He suffered his first heart attack at the age of 45 and was diagnosed with a congenital heart abnormality. He underwent cardiac bypass surgery and remained somewhat healthy for quite awhile. His name was added to the countless names on the donor list for those in need of a heart transplant. Unfortunately, he didn’t survive until that perfectly matched heart would arrive. His own had simply given out. My mom found him deceased, sitting peacefully in his Lazy Boy chair when she came home from an impromptu shopping excursion one evening 17 years ago. He would’ve been 72 years old this month, had he lived. I miss him dearly every year as the autumn season rolls around and the leaves begin to change their color. It saddens me that my children never had the opportunity of knowing the magnificent man that he was, their grandfather.
Sometimes, while I sit very still beneath the ancient oak tree in my yard, I’d swear I hear his singing still, those melodies carried upon the billowing breeze. “Don’t worry, dad. The music carries on”.
I remember some of my friends idolizing certain music stars like Ted Nugent or Aerosmith when I was growing up. They vowed to pluck away at those skinny little guitar strings until their fingers bled, in their quest to achieve the ultimate ‘Rock Star’ status. In my mind’s eye, I still vividly see them strumming away at this melody or that, amplifiers screaming, their sound resonating off the concrete basement walls during some of the jam sessions I attended.
There were furthermore those friends who aspired to one day become the next best
female figure skater the world would ever know, surpassing the US Olympic Champion at the time, Dorothy Hamill. Ice skates would be donned and laced to the hilt for hour after hour of grueling practice week after week. Gliding across the ice they’d go, poised, hurdling through the air, and dancing on skates until their little legs could barely support their frames any longer.
Personally though, I never had an idol that I looked up to. I never aspired to be “like” anyone. Although I received much pleasure from music, sports, and the Arts every bit as much as the next child, the only person I ever really remember observing and being somewhat awestruck by was my own father.
I’m not certain as to why my dad stands out in my mind as my “hero” of sorts. For sure, he never came to my rescue by slaying a 50-foot fire-breathing dragon that was on my tail and endeavoring to massacre me. Nevertheless, he was my knight in shining armor in the battlefield of life on numerous occasions while I matured. Looking back, I recognize now how his being the warm, devoted, upright person that he was on a daily basis had an enduring affect on me becoming the good person that I would become as an adult, more so than observing any famous person from afar ever could have. Largely because of him, I am who I am.
My father, Richard, was born into a large family in Hamtramck, Michigan in 1936. He was the
youngest of six children, five vivacious boys and one eccentric girl. His family dwelled in a yellowish two-story brick home on Wyandotte street, just off of Joseph Campau. The houses in that neighborhood stood shoulder to shoulder. It was quite the hefty-sized home and occupied much of the city lot wherein it was situated. There was a narrow dirt alleyway running behind the backyard, where the aluminum garbage cans were stored in metal racks. Trash was collected by city workers there. The backyard was like a matchbox, half-filled with an assortment of vibrant flowers that Babu, my grandmother, lovingly nurtured. The other half was overflowing with a large vegetable garden containing beans and cucumbers, lettuce and potatoes, carrots and celery, and every imaginable item grown that would be eaten fresh, as well as canned during the harvest. It was their custom and the way they always did it back in the old country. At that period in time, Hamtramck was a predominantly Polish community culturally. Its residents were largely bilingual, many of them having just emigrated from Europe. My grandparents were amongst them and began their family when settling there.
Being the youngest, and my dad always said the cutest of the children, he got away with a lot more than his siblings did in life. When chore time came ‘round, the natural order of things guaranteed he’d be left with the most minuscule of tasks for completion, as my grandmother always assigned responsibilities beginning with the oldest child first, on down to the youngest. “Richie, go sweep the dirt off the back porch”, my grandmother would say when the bulkier tasks requiring completion had already been doled out. “Yes, mama”, my dark-haired, blue-eyed father would reply. He was an obedient child, compliant, and one who matured into a fine young gentleman. He entered the US Army immediately after high school graduation. There he became an amphibious truck driver, which is a military vehicle that is capable of operating on land or in water.
Thanks to his older siblings, my dad had an enormous amount of extra time on his hands while
growing up in the city. As a result, his interest in music raged. He never played a musical instrument, himself, but oh, how he adored the sounds of music and listened to it any time or place and in any form that he could. If there was a concert in the park or a live band performing at a tavern down the street from his house, the sweet melody reaching his ears, that’s where he could be found. The radio, record player, or television set were always alive with the hum of a skippy beat when he was near. It never took him very long to begin snapping his fingers with the rhythm or tapping his toe on the floor, as my dad and whoever the artist-of-the-moment happened to be, dramatically belted out the lyrics together in their deeply masculine voices. Half the time, I don’t believe he was even conscious of his singing, but others noticed, particularly if we were in public. They would merely grin at him, in the same manner in which my dad’s own lips were constantly turned up in delight at the corners. He was always a joyful guy. If we were at home in our living room, up he’d bounce off that hideous gold velvet couch to the middle of the red shag carpet where he’d dance, dance, dance ‘til his heart content. My younger sister and I would glance at each other humorously, raise our hands in front of our mouths with embarrassment, then giggle at him as we watched, the way little girls do when they think their father’s acting like a silly goose.
One time in particular on a dreary, drizzly Saturday afternoon, when my dad was at home babysitting my sister and me, a song was playing on the radio. The drum and guitar sounds exploded in full force, and the song began. It was music by Elvis Presley, his favorite singer, entitled “Blue Suede Shoes. “ His face lit up as he recognized the tune instantly. He cranked up that old radio dial and said, “Kimmy, come stand on daddy’s feet and we’ll boogie to the music!” He held my petite hands within his own while I perched atop his shoes, balancing myself in place, as he danced me around the room like a princess on her throne, spinning and twirling me, hopping, sliding, and bopping across the floor. I never laughed so hard in my life, as did my sister when it was her turn next. I must’ve been about six or seven years of age. Over the years, we shared many dances similar that one until finally, I was deftly capable of dancing on my own two feet to the beat. It’s an understatement to say that I attribute a great deal of my love for music to my father, crediting him for having fostered his own affection for it in my home environment when I was young.
As time drifted on I grew, as children do. My father’s love for song became my own while I sang everywhere in life, church and school choirs, special events, eventually a band, and learned to play the clarinet, as well. I gained a great appreciation and admiration for classical as well as modern music through the head start my dad imparted in my life. As for the dancing, that tradition continued to take place over the years, as well. Music always abounded. Eventually, it was passed on down to my own children through me. My kids enjoyed it every bit as much as I did when I was small, their lithe bodies attempting to balance atop my feet as I’d swing them around the room in sync with the beat. Music makes for happy times.
There is one dramatic thing that changed in my life as a child though. My father became ill shortly after this recollection began. He suffered his first heart attack at the age of 45 and was diagnosed with a congenital heart abnormality. He underwent cardiac bypass surgery and remained somewhat healthy for quite awhile. His name was added to the countless names on the donor list for those in need of a heart transplant. Unfortunately, he didn’t survive until that perfectly matched heart would arrive. His own had simply given out. My mom found him deceased, sitting peacefully in his Lazy Boy chair when she came home from an impromptu shopping excursion one evening 17 years ago. He would’ve been 72 years old this month, had he lived. I miss him dearly every year as the autumn season rolls around and the leaves begin to change their color. It saddens me that my children never had the opportunity of knowing the magnificent man that he was, their grandfather.
Sometimes, while I sit very still beneath the ancient oak tree in my yard, I’d swear I hear his singing still, those melodies carried upon the billowing breeze. “Don’t worry, dad. The music carries on”.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Lost in Space
Okay, not really. Just busy in life! I realize it's been six months since I've been here - I know, I know! I'm so sorry! Truly, I am. I didn't mean to worry anyone with my absence. In my own defense, I told everyone I'd be gone awhile. Six months is a long while, I suppose...
(Kevin, I've seen your messages. Elaine, I've gotten yours, too. Carol, I've gotten yours. Kim, I've received yours as well. You're wonderful people). It was nice of you to think of me and to care enough to write. I have wondered how everyone has been, too, I just wasn't motivated enough to blog and as a result, didn't come in here or check on anybody, either.
A lot has happened in six months. I really will fill whoever is still around in, when I get the time to write a serious blog and not just a message update, so y'all will stop your worrying about me.
Do you know what I did today? I deleted my MyBlogLog and Blog Catalog accounts that were linked to this blog. Yes, the accounts that led you all to me. Why? Because I had literally thousands of messages waiting for me since I last checked my pages in both places (it's been six months, people) and as usual, when I'm overwhelmed I tend to draw up inside myself like a turtle inside its shell in hopes of escaping the hyperstimulus upon my life. Even now, though I'm here, I have said absolutely nothing to anyone of any importance. I'm just occupying space and time, and that's the real reason why I haven't blogged. I've had nothing I've felt led to say.
At least I didn't delete my blog page, right?
So, I said all that to say this... I don't know when I'll be in here to blog. I know it's difficult to understand, but I truly am busy and having a tough time juggling all my responsibilities right now. Blogging (writing) was always my recreational thing, my spare-time fun... and I simply don't have time for that in my life right now. I hope you understand.
See everyone on the flip side. It'll be sporadic, at best. Please take care. And BTW, Happy Thanksgiving to everyone!! Though times are tough for the whole country right now from an economic standpoint, I think if we each take a few moments to look inside our hearts, we can come up with one thing (at least) to be thankful for in our lives! Things can ALWAYS be worse.
(Kevin, I've seen your messages. Elaine, I've gotten yours, too. Carol, I've gotten yours. Kim, I've received yours as well. You're wonderful people). It was nice of you to think of me and to care enough to write. I have wondered how everyone has been, too, I just wasn't motivated enough to blog and as a result, didn't come in here or check on anybody, either.
A lot has happened in six months. I really will fill whoever is still around in, when I get the time to write a serious blog and not just a message update, so y'all will stop your worrying about me.
Do you know what I did today? I deleted my MyBlogLog and Blog Catalog accounts that were linked to this blog. Yes, the accounts that led you all to me. Why? Because I had literally thousands of messages waiting for me since I last checked my pages in both places (it's been six months, people) and as usual, when I'm overwhelmed I tend to draw up inside myself like a turtle inside its shell in hopes of escaping the hyperstimulus upon my life. Even now, though I'm here, I have said absolutely nothing to anyone of any importance. I'm just occupying space and time, and that's the real reason why I haven't blogged. I've had nothing I've felt led to say.
At least I didn't delete my blog page, right?
So, I said all that to say this... I don't know when I'll be in here to blog. I know it's difficult to understand, but I truly am busy and having a tough time juggling all my responsibilities right now. Blogging (writing) was always my recreational thing, my spare-time fun... and I simply don't have time for that in my life right now. I hope you understand.
See everyone on the flip side. It'll be sporadic, at best. Please take care. And BTW, Happy Thanksgiving to everyone!! Though times are tough for the whole country right now from an economic standpoint, I think if we each take a few moments to look inside our hearts, we can come up with one thing (at least) to be thankful for in our lives! Things can ALWAYS be worse.
Monday, May 19, 2008
And so it begins...
Warm sunshine streaming down
Azure skies with occasional puffy, white clouds
Children’s laughter
Bonfires by night
Insect repellant
The scent of fresh cut grass lingering in the breeze
S’mores
Weeding the garden
Fresh grown sweet corn, beans, and tomatoes
Juicy, sweet watermelon
Volleyball on the beach
The penny candy store
Fetch with the dogs
Flashlight tag
Swinging at the park
Tourists
Green growth, life, and flowers galore
A game of baseball
Barbecue chicken, ribs, steak. . . everything!
Hot rods, cruises, car shows
Sandy beaches and gentle waves
Animals at the zoo
Lots of laughter
Family, friends, and good times
Swimming, floating, sun bathing
Rest and relaxation
Fireworks
Music under the stars
A good book
Going up north to the cabin
Get-togethers
My birthday!
And so it begins... summer, that is. This is Memorial Day weekend coming up - the official start to the summer season. Being the summer baby that I was born to be, it's no surprise that I live for summer weather. That said, this will be my farewell blog for the season. I realize my presence has become more and more scarce online over the past couple months as the spring arrived, but now it's time for a break altogether. I would like to thank each and every one of you for reading, for commenting, for being there. I appreciate you all very much and hope to see you again when the autumn descends upon my great state and I return indoors once again for a long, cold winter. Your friendship and your readership is greatly valued!
Yes, I'll still pop in every now and then to say "hello", but won't be doing much blogging, myself. So, enjoy yourselves this summer! Spend some time with your loved ones and friends! Best wishes for much happiness, peace, and all the GOOD things in life!
HUGS!
Azure skies with occasional puffy, white clouds
Children’s laughter
Bonfires by night
Insect repellant
The scent of fresh cut grass lingering in the breeze
S’mores
Weeding the garden
Fresh grown sweet corn, beans, and tomatoes
Juicy, sweet watermelon
Volleyball on the beach
The penny candy store
Fetch with the dogs
Flashlight tag
Swinging at the park
Tourists
Green growth, life, and flowers galore
A game of baseball
Barbecue chicken, ribs, steak. . . everything!
Hot rods, cruises, car shows
Sandy beaches and gentle waves
Animals at the zoo
Lots of laughter
Family, friends, and good times
Swimming, floating, sun bathing
Rest and relaxation
Fireworks
Music under the stars
A good book
Going up north to the cabin
Get-togethers
My birthday!
And so it begins... summer, that is. This is Memorial Day weekend coming up - the official start to the summer season. Being the summer baby that I was born to be, it's no surprise that I live for summer weather. That said, this will be my farewell blog for the season. I realize my presence has become more and more scarce online over the past couple months as the spring arrived, but now it's time for a break altogether. I would like to thank each and every one of you for reading, for commenting, for being there. I appreciate you all very much and hope to see you again when the autumn descends upon my great state and I return indoors once again for a long, cold winter. Your friendship and your readership is greatly valued!
Yes, I'll still pop in every now and then to say "hello", but won't be doing much blogging, myself. So, enjoy yourselves this summer! Spend some time with your loved ones and friends! Best wishes for much happiness, peace, and all the GOOD things in life!
HUGS!
Saturday, May 17, 2008
The Love Boat...promises something for everyone
My husband is an exciting man. In fact, his nickname amongst the guys at work is “Ed-venture”, because he is fearless and creative. He has a unique ability to turn even the most mundane of tasks into an adventure for his work crew, and oftentimes elicits much laughter in the process (which makes their long work days seem not-so-long at all). He is admired by many, and really is the “life of the party”.
That said, you won’t be surprised to hear that those same characteristics ring true in our private lives at home, too. Though I’m oftentimes up for his wacky antics, occasionally I have to draw the line due to my own fears. “What fears, Kim? You are invincible!” Ha! How I wish that were true. I will let you in on a little secret. . . two secrets, actually:
1. I fear deep water.
2. I am somewhat claustrophobic.
(Ahhhh, now you understand?!)
Well then, it should come as no surprise to you to hear me say that I was slightly ambivalent when my husband arrived home from work yesterday with a “brilliant” idea for our next big vacation together – a 12-day Mediterranean cruise. Trapped aboard a boat. A big boat. With thousands of other people. Like a can of sardines. And a small stateroom. Unable to leave at-will. In the middle of a vast, deep, dark ocean. Full of sharks. Out to sea, like sitting ducks at the mercy of the waves and the weather. For days and days and days. Like the Titanic.
Gulp. Breathe.
I realize that to many, a Mediterranean cruise seems like a beautiful, exciting, romantic , fantasy-type of vacation. Sharing good food and fun and lots of laughter with the one you love. A different port-of-call every morning; Venice, Florence, Rome, Dubrovnik, Santorini, Athens, Barcelona. A dream come true, really. Except for the part about being stuck on a boat with thousands of people. In the midst of deep, dark water. For days on end. That thought alone makes my heart race and my throat go dry.
My husband has tried to convince me that the boat is so huge (a “floating city” is what he called it, I believe) that I won’t feel “trapped” on it. I'm not convinced. He encourages me that I won’t get seasick and end up spending every day in the confines of our cabin puking my guts out - because the boat is a LARGE, heavy ship that cuts through the water producing little motion at all, and will not be tossed about by every wave. Unless there's a hurricane. He reminds me how much I love people in general, and especially meeting new friends in the relaxed environment of a vacation where there is music, dancing, and entertainment. Yes, that's true. He entices me with my own lifelong dreams of traveling to different lands experiencing different foods, cultures. And it all sounds SO WONDERFUL – except for the boat. And the deep, dark water.
So, I figured I’d ask for a little advice from you all in hopes of diminishing some of my anxieties over the prospect of a cruise. Has anybody ever been on one before? If so, would you please be so kind (and honest) as to share your experience with me? Did you like it? What were the pros and cons? Are there any little tidbits of advice you could offer a first-timer to ensure a pleasurable experience? Did you get seasick? Do you feel motion at all?
That said, you won’t be surprised to hear that those same characteristics ring true in our private lives at home, too. Though I’m oftentimes up for his wacky antics, occasionally I have to draw the line due to my own fears. “What fears, Kim? You are invincible!” Ha! How I wish that were true. I will let you in on a little secret. . . two secrets, actually:
1. I fear deep water.
2. I am somewhat claustrophobic.
(Ahhhh, now you understand?!)
Well then, it should come as no surprise to you to hear me say that I was slightly ambivalent when my husband arrived home from work yesterday with a “brilliant” idea for our next big vacation together – a 12-day Mediterranean cruise. Trapped aboard a boat. A big boat. With thousands of other people. Like a can of sardines. And a small stateroom. Unable to leave at-will. In the middle of a vast, deep, dark ocean. Full of sharks. Out to sea, like sitting ducks at the mercy of the waves and the weather. For days and days and days. Like the Titanic.
Gulp. Breathe.
I realize that to many, a Mediterranean cruise seems like a beautiful, exciting, romantic , fantasy-type of vacation. Sharing good food and fun and lots of laughter with the one you love. A different port-of-call every morning; Venice, Florence, Rome, Dubrovnik, Santorini, Athens, Barcelona. A dream come true, really. Except for the part about being stuck on a boat with thousands of people. In the midst of deep, dark water. For days on end. That thought alone makes my heart race and my throat go dry.
My husband has tried to convince me that the boat is so huge (a “floating city” is what he called it, I believe) that I won’t feel “trapped” on it. I'm not convinced. He encourages me that I won’t get seasick and end up spending every day in the confines of our cabin puking my guts out - because the boat is a LARGE, heavy ship that cuts through the water producing little motion at all, and will not be tossed about by every wave. Unless there's a hurricane. He reminds me how much I love people in general, and especially meeting new friends in the relaxed environment of a vacation where there is music, dancing, and entertainment. Yes, that's true. He entices me with my own lifelong dreams of traveling to different lands experiencing different foods, cultures. And it all sounds SO WONDERFUL – except for the boat. And the deep, dark water.
So, I figured I’d ask for a little advice from you all in hopes of diminishing some of my anxieties over the prospect of a cruise. Has anybody ever been on one before? If so, would you please be so kind (and honest) as to share your experience with me? Did you like it? What were the pros and cons? Are there any little tidbits of advice you could offer a first-timer to ensure a pleasurable experience? Did you get seasick? Do you feel motion at all?
Thursday, May 15, 2008
HOPE FOR HUMANITY - ACTION FOR HUMAN RIGHTS
To guarantee the human rights of children is to invest in the future. Children's rights are the building blocks for a solid human rights culture, the basis for securing human rights for future generations. As human beings, children are entitled to all the rights guaranteed by the Universal Declaration on Human Rights and the various covenants that have developed from it. But children also need special protection and care. They must be able to depend on the adult world to take care of them, to defend their rights, and to help them to develop and realize their potential. Governments pay almost universal lip service to this ideal, yet have signally failed to ensure that the rights of children are respected.
Children suffer many of the same human rights abuses as adults, but may also be targeted simply because they are dependent and vulnerable. Many times in many nations, children are tortured and mistreated by state officials; they are arbitrarily or lawfully detained, often in appalling conditions. In some countries, they are subjected to the death penalty. Countless thousands are killed or maimed in armed conflicts. Many more have fled their homes to become refugees. Children forced by poverty or abuse to live on the streets are sometimes detained, attacked, and even killed in the name of social cleansing. Many millions of children work at exploitative or hazardous jobs, or are the victims of child trafficking and forced prostitution. Because children are "easy targets", they are sometimes threatened, beaten, or raped in order to punish family members who are not so accessible.
The spectrum of abuses faced by children in the family and community ranges from ill-treatment in institutions to violence within the family, from child trafficking to child bonded labor. The vulnerability of children to such abuses often depends on other aspects of their identity such as gender, ethnicity, or economic status. This is a powerful reminder of the indivisibility of human rights. The denial of one set of rights leads to the abuse of others. Children denied an education because they are girls or because they are poor and forced to work are condemned to a cycle of marginalization, poverty, and powerlessness that involves further violations of their civil, political, economic, social, and cultural rights.
Stand up for the basic human rights of children – the right to life, the right to be with family and community, the right to health, the right to development of personality, and the right to be nurtured and protected – since the children are too small to stand up for themselves.
Humankind owes the child the best it has to give!
Use your space to make the world a better place! Blogging for Hope!
Amnesty International: www.amnesty.org
Women Trafficking & Child Labor Eradication: www.wotclef.org
Children suffer many of the same human rights abuses as adults, but may also be targeted simply because they are dependent and vulnerable. Many times in many nations, children are tortured and mistreated by state officials; they are arbitrarily or lawfully detained, often in appalling conditions. In some countries, they are subjected to the death penalty. Countless thousands are killed or maimed in armed conflicts. Many more have fled their homes to become refugees. Children forced by poverty or abuse to live on the streets are sometimes detained, attacked, and even killed in the name of social cleansing. Many millions of children work at exploitative or hazardous jobs, or are the victims of child trafficking and forced prostitution. Because children are "easy targets", they are sometimes threatened, beaten, or raped in order to punish family members who are not so accessible.
The spectrum of abuses faced by children in the family and community ranges from ill-treatment in institutions to violence within the family, from child trafficking to child bonded labor. The vulnerability of children to such abuses often depends on other aspects of their identity such as gender, ethnicity, or economic status. This is a powerful reminder of the indivisibility of human rights. The denial of one set of rights leads to the abuse of others. Children denied an education because they are girls or because they are poor and forced to work are condemned to a cycle of marginalization, poverty, and powerlessness that involves further violations of their civil, political, economic, social, and cultural rights.
Stand up for the basic human rights of children – the right to life, the right to be with family and community, the right to health, the right to development of personality, and the right to be nurtured and protected – since the children are too small to stand up for themselves.
Humankind owes the child the best it has to give!
Use your space to make the world a better place! Blogging for Hope!
Women Trafficking & Child Labor Eradication: www.wotclef.org
Thursday, May 8, 2008
How Swede It Is!
HEY, HEY HOCKEYTOWN!
I feel the need - the need for Swede!
RED HOT - FIRE ON ICE!
Catch the Red Wave!
WATCH FOR FALLING STARS TONIGHT!
Are You In?
LET'S GO RED WINGS!
Hockey-blog / Photo-blog today - obviously. OOPS! Except for the last pic - that's my hubby. But being the typical testosterone-type male that he is, he needs his ego stroked from time-to-time, and I didn't want to exclude him, so I'm letting him be with the BIG BOYS today (Better, honey? =) who have my attention for the 2008 Stanley Cup Playoffs Round 3 Game 1 tonight! Ooooo-la-la, especially that Zetterberg! Yikes!
I feel the need - the need for Swede!
RED HOT - FIRE ON ICE!
Catch the Red Wave!
WATCH FOR FALLING STARS TONIGHT!
Are You In?
LET'S GO RED WINGS!
Hockey-blog / Photo-blog today - obviously. OOPS! Except for the last pic - that's my hubby. But being the typical testosterone-type male that he is, he needs his ego stroked from time-to-time, and I didn't want to exclude him, so I'm letting him be with the BIG BOYS today (Better, honey? =) who have my attention for the 2008 Stanley Cup Playoffs Round 3 Game 1 tonight! Ooooo-la-la, especially that Zetterberg! Yikes!
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Feeling Thankful
We have our annual fund raiser coming up at the dojo this Saturday. Every year we have a kick-a-thon in which all the students (approximately 300) training at the dojo donate their time for two hours, throwing as many kicks as possible into the bags. Of the funds we receive from those who sponsor us, 100% is donated back to a local organization called “The Rainbow Connection”. It’s very similar to the Make-a-Wish Foundation in that their primary focus is to fulfill dreams for Michigan children with life threatening or terminal illnesses. Depending on the amount of money collected, sometimes we’re able to grant the wishes of more than one local child; which is a blessing.
Though it’s always wonderful to receive a gift from someone, for those who haven’t yet discovered – there is nothing more fulfilling in life than giving a gift to another, especially if it involves giving from the heart for the benefit of an innocent child who is seriously ill. Being a parent, myself, I cannot fathom how difficult it must be for those parents to endure the agony of watching their own child suffering long term; not to mention the hardships that the children themselves must bear. It’s a good feeling to know that the small token of our time that we volunteer is poured back into the lives of others who are less fortunate, where it helps to brighten their outlook and hopefully makes them smile; if only for awhile.
In light of that, it makes me appreciate even greater how truly fortunate I am to have healthy, happy teenagers / young adults in my life. I feel very blessed and thankful, and will try to remember just how grateful I am for their health, their wholeness, the next time they’re aggravating me immensely – instead of stressing over what (to some) would seem like such petty issues in the broader spectrum of life.
So. . . hug your children today! Tell them how much you love them, and how precious they are in your eyes! Let them know they are special. I know I will.
I love my babies - no matter how big they get!
Though it’s always wonderful to receive a gift from someone, for those who haven’t yet discovered – there is nothing more fulfilling in life than giving a gift to another, especially if it involves giving from the heart for the benefit of an innocent child who is seriously ill. Being a parent, myself, I cannot fathom how difficult it must be for those parents to endure the agony of watching their own child suffering long term; not to mention the hardships that the children themselves must bear. It’s a good feeling to know that the small token of our time that we volunteer is poured back into the lives of others who are less fortunate, where it helps to brighten their outlook and hopefully makes them smile; if only for awhile.
In light of that, it makes me appreciate even greater how truly fortunate I am to have healthy, happy teenagers / young adults in my life. I feel very blessed and thankful, and will try to remember just how grateful I am for their health, their wholeness, the next time they’re aggravating me immensely – instead of stressing over what (to some) would seem like such petty issues in the broader spectrum of life.
So. . . hug your children today! Tell them how much you love them, and how precious they are in your eyes! Let them know they are special. I know I will.
I love my babies - no matter how big they get!
Saturday, April 26, 2008
My guilty pleasure for the day
My daughter arrived home from college yesterday. The semester is over and she’s back home for four months. When she arrived home with the six (you heard me right – SIX) 30-gallon garbage bags full of dirty laundry (including a few articles of young-men’s clothing that didn’t belong to her – and I’m not asking about) I just sort of sighed and thought. . . where in the world did I go wrong?. . . But then, this morning (OK, more like noon) when she finally woke up and turned on the music, all was WELL AGAIN in my household! (Low, Low, Low, Low, Low, Low, Low, Low!) She is such a joy to have around. I’ve missed her innate ability to brighten up a room just with her presence and smile. She managed to have me smiling and singing right along with her within moments of arising from her sleep. She also informed me that she and I are going dancing and karaoke-ing this evening. Sweet. =)
So anyway, here’s my own “guilty pleasure” for the day (Shhh – don’t tell anyone, K?) =P
(P.S. – Sorry I’m not very sociable with anyone lately. I guess I just haven’t had much to say. Just have a lot going on and a lot on my mind right now. Think of everyone often though).
So anyway, here’s my own “guilty pleasure” for the day (Shhh – don’t tell anyone, K?) =P
(P.S. – Sorry I’m not very sociable with anyone lately. I guess I just haven’t had much to say. Just have a lot going on and a lot on my mind right now. Think of everyone often though).
Thursday, April 24, 2008
If Everyone Cared
Did you ever wake up with a song playing over and over and over again inside your head, like a broken record? That's how I awoke this morning - Chad Kroeger's gravelly voice lulling me into wakefulness with this song... mellow, contemplative, serene. Enjoy.
(Comment on YouTube if you liked her vid.)
From underneath the trees, we watch the sky
Confusing stars for satellites
I never dreamed that you'd be mine
But here we are, we're here tonight
Singing Amen I, I'm alive
Singing Amen I, I'm alive
[CHORUS]
If everyone cared and nobody cried,
If everyone loved and nobody lied,
If everyone shared and swallowed their pride,
We'd see the day, when nobody died
And I'm singing
Amen I, Amen I, I'm alive
Amen I, Amen I, Amen I, I'm alive
And in the air the fireflies
Our only light in paradise
We'll show the world they were wrong
And teach them all to sing along
Singing Amen I, I'm alive
Singing Amen I, I'm alive
[CHORUS (X2)]
And as we lie beneath the stars,
We realize how small we are,
If they could love like you and me,
Imagine what the world could be
[CHORUS (X2)]
We'd see the day, we'd see the day
When nobody died
We'd see the day, we'd see the day
When nobody died
We'd see the day when nobody died
(Comment on YouTube if you liked her vid.)
From underneath the trees, we watch the sky
Confusing stars for satellites
I never dreamed that you'd be mine
But here we are, we're here tonight
Singing Amen I, I'm alive
Singing Amen I, I'm alive
[CHORUS]
If everyone cared and nobody cried,
If everyone loved and nobody lied,
If everyone shared and swallowed their pride,
We'd see the day, when nobody died
And I'm singing
Amen I, Amen I, I'm alive
Amen I, Amen I, Amen I, I'm alive
And in the air the fireflies
Our only light in paradise
We'll show the world they were wrong
And teach them all to sing along
Singing Amen I, I'm alive
Singing Amen I, I'm alive
[CHORUS (X2)]
And as we lie beneath the stars,
We realize how small we are,
If they could love like you and me,
Imagine what the world could be
[CHORUS (X2)]
We'd see the day, we'd see the day
When nobody died
We'd see the day, we'd see the day
When nobody died
We'd see the day when nobody died
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Another "Familiar Fragments"
Once again, a scary glimpse into my thought fragments. . .
I was bummed out the other day when I realized after the fact that the Dalai Lama was in Michigan at U- M giving lectures, and I had missed them. I remember when he was here 15 years ago. I sat in on some of his talks. I was very impressed with his peaceful character, his ideals. I wish I could’ve gone back to see him and hear him speak again. I didn’t know he was going to be here until it was too late. Figures.
The wilderness. . . shall blossom abundantly. Isaiah 35:1, 2 (Holy Bible)
I have a headache on the right side of my temple. It’s trying to throb and is bordering migraine. It must be stress-related. Give me drugs, please. I haven’t had a headache since before leaving for vacation. I feel a huge knot of tension in the middle of my upper back, too, right in the center of my scapula, as well as my cervical spine area. New line of work required. Anybody need a crazy blond on staff?
Hey, I have a great idea! How ‘bout you come do dirty laundry for me! Please? I want to go out and play, instead!
Got KC and the Sunshine Band on the brain again. I know, I’m a throwback to the 70’s music era sometimes – roller-skates, disco ball, and the whole funky thing. But what can I say? How ‘bout – “DO A LITTLE DANCE- MAKE A LITTLE LOVE – GET DOWN TONIGHT! – GET DOWN TONIGHT! WHOO!” (Currently shaking my groove thang)! Can ya feel it, I ask?! My youngest daughter is shaking her head at me and saying, “Mother, puh-lease! You’re scaring me!” LOL (But if my older daughter were home from college, she’d be saying, “Yeah mom – shake it, girl - Go momma! Go momma! Go momma!”) Hmm. . . . what’s wrong with this picture?! Funny, how they can all be so individually different from each other.
I feel the need. . . the need for speed! Zoom-zoom-zoom! T-tops are comin’ off today! Warm sun. Fresh air. Need a hat, or I’ll have a tangled mess. Stay off the roads if you’re smart! I stop for nothing!
Today is my son’s birthday. My baby. My youngest child. No longer a baby. Now a teenager going through puberty, himself. Awww. My days filled with the simplest aspects of motherhood are over. I now can only endure the teenage years and young adulthood with my children – which are okay, I suppose. But I want a new baby to snuggle and hold and love and take care of. Too bad my hubby had snip-snipping done. He turns deathly pale when I suggest medical reversal of his vasectomy - then does an about-face and runs away. Hey bubba – where you goin’?! Come back here and gimme some of that!
Remember: Do not mix up the cilia with the celiac. Vast difference, both. Thank you.
I hate it when I’m sitting in a restaurant and somebody continuously has a thick, productive, hacking cough. It makes me lose my appetite. Sounds like they’re hocking up a chunk of lung or something. Yuck! Hungry no more.
It’s my Sunday to lead. I pray that lives will be changed through the ministry that music can bring. Leading Praise and Worship is so much more to me than just another “performance”. When I take the platform, I want to cease to exist as an individual, and only be seen as the vessel that is used to usher the congregation into the very presence of God, the throne of grace. So please don’t look to me – look to Him. Don’t see “me” – but only the one who was called to lead you there. I am merely human – I will fall. He will not.
Did you ever see a blue frog? I have one! Here, in my pond. Look-see, I’ll show you.
Why is it that my health insurance company can never accurately manage my account? Why must I watch every stinking penny? I’m tired of their repeat “errors”. They should be covering certain aspects of my family’s health care in full; yet, have neglected to do so, thereby claiming I’m responsible for specific payment amounts. NO, I’m not! Check my policy guidelines. YOU are supposed to cover that completely! Sheesh. Must I do everybody’s job for them? Get with the program, people!
Those of you who don’t actually “know” me in real life would have a hard time believing I’m a very serious professional who works in the medicolegal field, huh? But you know, it’s just so BORING, and you gotta do what you gotta do to liven things up a bit. If you want to know the absolute truth, only wacky people can endure in the field of medicine – it takes a rather unique sense of humor to be able to find beauty in the cleansed colon or irritable bowels. Just thought you should know. Keep that in mind the next time you go for a surgical procedure, ok? LOL
Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy. Sunshine in my eyes can make me cry. Sunshine on the water looks so lovely. Sunshine almost all the time makes me high.
I’m supposed to be working, but I’m distracted today. ADD mode has kicked in with my return to work – funny, that. I’m having mischievous thoughts, too – don’t ask. You DON’T want to know, trust me. Focus, Kim. Focus. Back. To. Work. Focus. (Come on baby, and rescue me!) My mind is useless today. Devoid of even the remotest of intelligence. Up in the clouds. Far, far away. Sigh.
I love stumbling across blogs that inspire me. Hats-off to the inspirational-ists!
I was bummed out the other day when I realized after the fact that the Dalai Lama was in Michigan at U- M giving lectures, and I had missed them. I remember when he was here 15 years ago. I sat in on some of his talks. I was very impressed with his peaceful character, his ideals. I wish I could’ve gone back to see him and hear him speak again. I didn’t know he was going to be here until it was too late. Figures.
The wilderness. . . shall blossom abundantly. Isaiah 35:1, 2 (Holy Bible)
I have a headache on the right side of my temple. It’s trying to throb and is bordering migraine. It must be stress-related. Give me drugs, please. I haven’t had a headache since before leaving for vacation. I feel a huge knot of tension in the middle of my upper back, too, right in the center of my scapula, as well as my cervical spine area. New line of work required. Anybody need a crazy blond on staff?
Hey, I have a great idea! How ‘bout you come do dirty laundry for me! Please? I want to go out and play, instead!
Got KC and the Sunshine Band on the brain again. I know, I’m a throwback to the 70’s music era sometimes – roller-skates, disco ball, and the whole funky thing. But what can I say? How ‘bout – “DO A LITTLE DANCE- MAKE A LITTLE LOVE – GET DOWN TONIGHT! – GET DOWN TONIGHT! WHOO!” (Currently shaking my groove thang)! Can ya feel it, I ask?! My youngest daughter is shaking her head at me and saying, “Mother, puh-lease! You’re scaring me!” LOL (But if my older daughter were home from college, she’d be saying, “Yeah mom – shake it, girl - Go momma! Go momma! Go momma!”) Hmm. . . . what’s wrong with this picture?! Funny, how they can all be so individually different from each other.
I feel the need. . . the need for speed! Zoom-zoom-zoom! T-tops are comin’ off today! Warm sun. Fresh air. Need a hat, or I’ll have a tangled mess. Stay off the roads if you’re smart! I stop for nothing!
Today is my son’s birthday. My baby. My youngest child. No longer a baby. Now a teenager going through puberty, himself. Awww. My days filled with the simplest aspects of motherhood are over. I now can only endure the teenage years and young adulthood with my children – which are okay, I suppose. But I want a new baby to snuggle and hold and love and take care of. Too bad my hubby had snip-snipping done. He turns deathly pale when I suggest medical reversal of his vasectomy - then does an about-face and runs away. Hey bubba – where you goin’?! Come back here and gimme some of that!
Remember: Do not mix up the cilia with the celiac. Vast difference, both. Thank you.
I hate it when I’m sitting in a restaurant and somebody continuously has a thick, productive, hacking cough. It makes me lose my appetite. Sounds like they’re hocking up a chunk of lung or something. Yuck! Hungry no more.
It’s my Sunday to lead. I pray that lives will be changed through the ministry that music can bring. Leading Praise and Worship is so much more to me than just another “performance”. When I take the platform, I want to cease to exist as an individual, and only be seen as the vessel that is used to usher the congregation into the very presence of God, the throne of grace. So please don’t look to me – look to Him. Don’t see “me” – but only the one who was called to lead you there. I am merely human – I will fall. He will not.
Did you ever see a blue frog? I have one! Here, in my pond. Look-see, I’ll show you.
Why is it that my health insurance company can never accurately manage my account? Why must I watch every stinking penny? I’m tired of their repeat “errors”. They should be covering certain aspects of my family’s health care in full; yet, have neglected to do so, thereby claiming I’m responsible for specific payment amounts. NO, I’m not! Check my policy guidelines. YOU are supposed to cover that completely! Sheesh. Must I do everybody’s job for them? Get with the program, people!
Those of you who don’t actually “know” me in real life would have a hard time believing I’m a very serious professional who works in the medicolegal field, huh? But you know, it’s just so BORING, and you gotta do what you gotta do to liven things up a bit. If you want to know the absolute truth, only wacky people can endure in the field of medicine – it takes a rather unique sense of humor to be able to find beauty in the cleansed colon or irritable bowels. Just thought you should know. Keep that in mind the next time you go for a surgical procedure, ok? LOL
Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy. Sunshine in my eyes can make me cry. Sunshine on the water looks so lovely. Sunshine almost all the time makes me high.
I’m supposed to be working, but I’m distracted today. ADD mode has kicked in with my return to work – funny, that. I’m having mischievous thoughts, too – don’t ask. You DON’T want to know, trust me. Focus, Kim. Focus. Back. To. Work. Focus. (Come on baby, and rescue me!) My mind is useless today. Devoid of even the remotest of intelligence. Up in the clouds. Far, far away. Sigh.
I love stumbling across blogs that inspire me. Hats-off to the inspirational-ists!
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Don't Mess With Me, Mo-Fo!
Yesterday evening at dusk (about 8:30 p.m.), as I was walking out of the Port Huron Meijer’s store with my daughter, Kayla, a most unusual thing occurred. We were proceeding through the parking lot toward my car with a couple bags of groceries when we suddenly heard a woman’s scream. It was just one scream, but filled with angst and tears, I could tell. And it was slightly muffled, as if someone were trying to stifle it. My daughter and I glanced at each other then looked around as we approached my vehicle, trying to discern from which direction it had come. We saw nothing. We heard nothing. As we got into my car, I suddenly had the oddest feeling strike me. As a result, I decided at that moment not to leave directly, but to quickly drive up and down a few rows of cars just to take a peek.
As I neared the end of the row we had been parked in, I suddenly saw it – a man struggling with a woman, attempting to get her into a mini-van. She had her feet firmly planted on the asphalt pavement and her arms spread wide, holding on for dear life to each side of the sliding door while he was trying to dislodge her grip and shove her inside, covering her mouth with one hand. She was terrified. He was pissed.
Shocked and furious, barely thinking - I stopped my car abruptly and shouted to my daughter, “lay on the car horn, and don’t let up”. I got out and ran toward the man, screaming, “Hey mother fucker, let her go!”, then BOOM! - slammed a wicked front kick right into his face as he turned his head my direction, having been startled by both my screaming approach as well as my car horn blaring.
Well, thank God it was enough!
Enough to draw the attention of other passersby, who decently stopped to see what the ruckus was all about and help out. Enough of a distraction for the poor lady to break free from her struggle. Enough to have put an abrupt end to what was about to become a very violent crime that would likely have changed the life of the victim forever. Enough.
Of course, some of the men in the parking lot subdued the would-be attacker until the police arrived. I believe they even landed a few of their own blows at his face and gut in the process. Good for them. And I did my very best to hug and comfort the poor woman, who was absolutely terrified afterwards.
Ladies, do yourselves a favor. Stay alert. Be prepared. Always. Take a self defense class. Keep in shape. Don’t shop alone. Carry pepper spray or mace...something. Be proactive in not becoming the victim in today’s backwards society. There are bad people in the world. I live in a very GOOD area, and this still happened. I am NOT a big person (5’7”, 118 lbs.) and under certain circumstances I may not have been effective in helping this woman – but I am a martial artist. And for the first time in my life, I was very thankful for the past three years of time and grueling dedication that I’ve put into training, as it allowed me to react instinctively in a dangerous situation without fear. (Although, I was pretty shaken up afterwards, when the adrenaline rush wore off).
But...it proved useful to aid in helping another. It was worth it.
The choices we make today affect the quality of life we have tomorrow. Choose wisely.
As I neared the end of the row we had been parked in, I suddenly saw it – a man struggling with a woman, attempting to get her into a mini-van. She had her feet firmly planted on the asphalt pavement and her arms spread wide, holding on for dear life to each side of the sliding door while he was trying to dislodge her grip and shove her inside, covering her mouth with one hand. She was terrified. He was pissed.
Shocked and furious, barely thinking - I stopped my car abruptly and shouted to my daughter, “lay on the car horn, and don’t let up”. I got out and ran toward the man, screaming, “Hey mother fucker, let her go!”, then BOOM! - slammed a wicked front kick right into his face as he turned his head my direction, having been startled by both my screaming approach as well as my car horn blaring.
Well, thank God it was enough!
Enough to draw the attention of other passersby, who decently stopped to see what the ruckus was all about and help out. Enough of a distraction for the poor lady to break free from her struggle. Enough to have put an abrupt end to what was about to become a very violent crime that would likely have changed the life of the victim forever. Enough.
Of course, some of the men in the parking lot subdued the would-be attacker until the police arrived. I believe they even landed a few of their own blows at his face and gut in the process. Good for them. And I did my very best to hug and comfort the poor woman, who was absolutely terrified afterwards.
Ladies, do yourselves a favor. Stay alert. Be prepared. Always. Take a self defense class. Keep in shape. Don’t shop alone. Carry pepper spray or mace...something. Be proactive in not becoming the victim in today’s backwards society. There are bad people in the world. I live in a very GOOD area, and this still happened. I am NOT a big person (5’7”, 118 lbs.) and under certain circumstances I may not have been effective in helping this woman – but I am a martial artist. And for the first time in my life, I was very thankful for the past three years of time and grueling dedication that I’ve put into training, as it allowed me to react instinctively in a dangerous situation without fear. (Although, I was pretty shaken up afterwards, when the adrenaline rush wore off).
But...it proved useful to aid in helping another. It was worth it.
The choices we make today affect the quality of life we have tomorrow. Choose wisely.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
My Love Affair With Kokomo...
Steamy... Sultry... Sexy... Sweet... KOKOMO! (eat your hearts out!)
SOUPY - be very, very jealous!
(Not the greatest slideshow/vid, but all I could find quick-like. Use sound for full experience!)
Aruba, Jamaica ooo I wanna take you
Bermuda, Bahama come on pretty mama
Key Largo, Montego baby why don't we go
Jamaica
Off The Florida Keys
There's a place called Kokomo
That's where you wanna go to get away from it all
Bodies in the sand
Tropical drink melting in your hand
We'll be falling in love
To the rhythm of a steel drum band
Down in Kokomo
Aruba, Jamaica ooo I wanna take you
To Bermuda, Bahama come on pretty mama
Key Largo, Montego baby why don't we go
Ooo I wanna take you down to Kokomo
We'll get there fast
And then we'll take it slow
That's where we wanna go
Way down to Kokomo
To Martinique, that Montserrat Mystique
We'll put out to sea
And we'll perfect our chemistry
By and by we'll defy a little bit of gravity
Afternoon delight
Cocktails and moonlit nights
That dreamy look in your eye
Give me a tropical contact high
Way down in Kokomo
Aruba, Jamaica ooo I wanna take you
To Bermuda, Bahama come on pretty mama
Key Largo, Montego baby why don't we go
Ooo I wanna take you down to Kokomo
We'll get there fast
And then we'll take it slow
That's where we wanna go
Way down to Kokomo
Port Au Prince I wanna catch a glimpse
Everybody knows
A little place like Kokomo
Now if you wanna go
And get away from it all
Go down to Kokomo
Aruba, Jamaica ooo I wanna take ya to
Bermuda, Bahama come on pretty mama
Key Largo, Montego baby why don't we go
Ooo I wanna take you down to Kokomo
We'll get there fast
And then we'll take it slow
That's where we wanna go
Way down to Kokomo
Ooo I wanna take you down to Kokomo
SOUPY - be very, very jealous!
(Not the greatest slideshow/vid, but all I could find quick-like. Use sound for full experience!)
Aruba, Jamaica ooo I wanna take you
Bermuda, Bahama come on pretty mama
Key Largo, Montego baby why don't we go
Jamaica
Off The Florida Keys
There's a place called Kokomo
That's where you wanna go to get away from it all
Bodies in the sand
Tropical drink melting in your hand
We'll be falling in love
To the rhythm of a steel drum band
Down in Kokomo
Aruba, Jamaica ooo I wanna take you
To Bermuda, Bahama come on pretty mama
Key Largo, Montego baby why don't we go
Ooo I wanna take you down to Kokomo
We'll get there fast
And then we'll take it slow
That's where we wanna go
Way down to Kokomo
To Martinique, that Montserrat Mystique
We'll put out to sea
And we'll perfect our chemistry
By and by we'll defy a little bit of gravity
Afternoon delight
Cocktails and moonlit nights
That dreamy look in your eye
Give me a tropical contact high
Way down in Kokomo
Aruba, Jamaica ooo I wanna take you
To Bermuda, Bahama come on pretty mama
Key Largo, Montego baby why don't we go
Ooo I wanna take you down to Kokomo
We'll get there fast
And then we'll take it slow
That's where we wanna go
Way down to Kokomo
Port Au Prince I wanna catch a glimpse
Everybody knows
A little place like Kokomo
Now if you wanna go
And get away from it all
Go down to Kokomo
Aruba, Jamaica ooo I wanna take ya to
Bermuda, Bahama come on pretty mama
Key Largo, Montego baby why don't we go
Ooo I wanna take you down to Kokomo
We'll get there fast
And then we'll take it slow
That's where we wanna go
Way down to Kokomo
Ooo I wanna take you down to Kokomo
"Leavin', on a jet plane...
... don't know when I'll be back again..."
Does anybody remember that song? I know a few of you do (wink). An oldie, but a goodie!
Anyway- I realize I haven't been the best correspondent of late; shame on me - time just goes by way too fast and before I know it, one day is ending and a new one has begun! (My plate is rather full these days, so-to-speak). But you'll be happy to know that I have NOTHING important to say, anyway, so you haven't missed much! =)
I do have some wonderful news to share though...
That song that I began my post with? Well, it happens to be true. I AM leaving! In fact, later today. And thank God for that -I totally need a vacation! Have been swamped at work lately and have felt like pulling my hair out on more than one occasion, I might add. Of course, I'd never do that because I'd be one ugly lioness bald. (scary thought)
So, until next time - ciao!
Does anybody remember that song? I know a few of you do (wink). An oldie, but a goodie!
Anyway- I realize I haven't been the best correspondent of late; shame on me - time just goes by way too fast and before I know it, one day is ending and a new one has begun! (My plate is rather full these days, so-to-speak). But you'll be happy to know that I have NOTHING important to say, anyway, so you haven't missed much! =)
I do have some wonderful news to share though...
That song that I began my post with? Well, it happens to be true. I AM leaving! In fact, later today. And thank God for that -I totally need a vacation! Have been swamped at work lately and have felt like pulling my hair out on more than one occasion, I might add. Of course, I'd never do that because I'd be one ugly lioness bald. (scary thought)
So, until next time - ciao!
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Growing Slowly Wise
Earth's wisest sages this impart:
The tongue's great storehouse is the heart.
- Folk Proverb
The tongue's great storehouse is the heart.
- Folk Proverb
There are many things in life that will catch your eye, but only a few that will capture your heart... pursue those.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Never Alone
This morning I awoke to steel grey, drizzly skies. The air was chill and damp and I snuggled deeply into my robe while gazing out at our pond, beyond the trees. Among the many deer grazing upon fresh spring grass hopped the rabbits, their white tails bouncing behind. They, too, were enjoying their tender young greens. Gliding along so gracefully in the pond was a lone duck of black-and-white colored plume. I retrieved the binoculars so as to look for his mate, who surely accompanied him. Alas, she was nowhere to be found. Despite his singular beauty, it made me sad to see him there... all alone in the cold, dark rain. It made me grateful that my journey through life is not alone.
P.S. - Does anybody know why all my blog posts are ending up dated with April 1, 2008 instead of the actual posting date?
P.S. - Does anybody know why all my blog posts are ending up dated with April 1, 2008 instead of the actual posting date?
Stilletto Heels and Fishnet Stockings
Nevada is only one of two states in which some prostitution is legal (in brothels); Rhode Island is the other (brothels).
Do you think that Prostitution should be legalized? Why or why not? Under what circumstances? Street solicitation? Brothels?
(I wonder if anybody will actually state that they DO think it should be legalized... are you brave enough?) Free thinkers welcome.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
"Plaaaay Ball!"
"Baseball, hot dogs, apple pie, and Chevrolet..."
"Take me out to the ballgame..."
Outside of hockey, baseball is my most favorite sport. It's definitely my favorite summer sport, both to watch as well as play. My youngest son is a HUGE baseball fan, and a decent player, too. It's a sure sign of Spring in Michigan when the professional baseball season begins.
Today is Opening Day for the Detroit Tigers, and I'm a huge fan of theirs. I only wish I had tickets to the game, so I could head down to the city to beautiful Comerica Park to support "my guys" with all the other rowdy fans instead of going to work. It's great to watch the game on TV, or listen on radio (something my dad and I always did when I was a kid and we couldn't get down to the old Tiger Stadium to see a game) but nothing, NOTHING compares with being there in person, part of the energy of another Opening Day in Detroit!
The weather forecast is a bit "iffy" in regards to off and on rain showers, but nobody will care (it's better than snow) come 1 p.m. when the first pitch is thrown.
Hottie Justin Verlander will be on the mound pitching to start the season off for the Tigers. It looks to be a promising season - hear them roaaar!
Let's Go Tigers!
Words of Wisdom...
Seek peace, and pursue it.
Live an honest life and walk uprightly.
In all things, give thanks.
Be swift to hear, slow to speak, and slow to wrath.
If a man thinks himself to be something, when he is nothing, he deceives himself.
Don't be weary in well doing.
Where there is no vision, people perish.
Love is patient and kind.
Wisdom is far more valuable than precious jewels.
Be hospitable to one another, without complaint.
Love keeps no record of wrongs.
Whatever you do, do it heartily.
Study to be quiet, and to do your own business.
It's not good to have zeal without knowledge, nor to be hasty and miss the way.
Amend your ways, and your deeds.
Be watchful.
Be devoted to one another in brotherly love.
Honor one another above yourselves.
In your patience are your souls possessed.
Encourage one another, and build each other up.
Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, and faithful in prayer.
Love never ends...
Live an honest life and walk uprightly.
In all things, give thanks.
Be swift to hear, slow to speak, and slow to wrath.
If a man thinks himself to be something, when he is nothing, he deceives himself.
Don't be weary in well doing.
Where there is no vision, people perish.
Love is patient and kind.
Wisdom is far more valuable than precious jewels.
Be hospitable to one another, without complaint.
Love keeps no record of wrongs.
Whatever you do, do it heartily.
Study to be quiet, and to do your own business.
It's not good to have zeal without knowledge, nor to be hasty and miss the way.
Amend your ways, and your deeds.
Be watchful.
Be devoted to one another in brotherly love.
Honor one another above yourselves.
In your patience are your souls possessed.
Encourage one another, and build each other up.
Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, and faithful in prayer.
Love never ends...
The Name of the Day is ... "McBean"
Have you ever paid much attention to other people’s names before? I happen to find language itself very interesting, and names are no different.
Today’s ‘Name of the Day’ (which simply means that I LIKE a specific name) is sponsored by none other than the name: (Ta-da )- “McBean”. Why? I’m not sure. I guess for a few reasons. First, it stumbled across my desk this morning and caught my eye. Second, I like the way it sounds when spoken. Go ahead, say it out loud now – you KNOW you want to! “McBean”. Doesn’t that sound distinguished!? Next, it makes me wonder what it means. Yes, I know I could simply Google the name and find out, but that’s too easy; besides, I prefer my own little game of imagination instead. The name itself reminds me of... BEANS! (No surprise there, right?) When thinking upon it and speaking it aloud, I see images of the descendents of the name “McBean” flocking to Ellis Island from the Scottish lowlands around the year 1900. Their knees are exposed, because they’re wearing these short little plaids of green, brown, yellow, and white while coming abroad from their homeland – BEAN colored plaids, they are! When speaking, they have this nice little lilt to their voices that is smooth and comforting. I wonder if there was such a thing as bean farmers over there. What kinds of beans did they grow? Green beans, string beans, wax beans? Finally, the name “McBean” reminds me of McDonald’s coffee. So I think I’m going to go get some now!
Have a GREAT day. . .it’s BEAN fun (not been, bet ‘bean’ - Get it?! Sheesh, laugh a little, already)!!! As a matter of fact, all this McBean talk has made me hungry. I think I’ll get a McChicken sandwich, too, while I’m at it!
This is actually a PICTURE of the real McBean (Pinto McBean!) in Alberta, Canada. How cool is that?!
Simple minds. Simple pleasures. What can I say?!
Today’s ‘Name of the Day’ (which simply means that I LIKE a specific name) is sponsored by none other than the name: (Ta-da )- “McBean”. Why? I’m not sure. I guess for a few reasons. First, it stumbled across my desk this morning and caught my eye. Second, I like the way it sounds when spoken. Go ahead, say it out loud now – you KNOW you want to! “McBean”. Doesn’t that sound distinguished!? Next, it makes me wonder what it means. Yes, I know I could simply Google the name and find out, but that’s too easy; besides, I prefer my own little game of imagination instead. The name itself reminds me of... BEANS! (No surprise there, right?) When thinking upon it and speaking it aloud, I see images of the descendents of the name “McBean” flocking to Ellis Island from the Scottish lowlands around the year 1900. Their knees are exposed, because they’re wearing these short little plaids of green, brown, yellow, and white while coming abroad from their homeland – BEAN colored plaids, they are! When speaking, they have this nice little lilt to their voices that is smooth and comforting. I wonder if there was such a thing as bean farmers over there. What kinds of beans did they grow? Green beans, string beans, wax beans? Finally, the name “McBean” reminds me of McDonald’s coffee. So I think I’m going to go get some now!
Have a GREAT day. . .it’s BEAN fun (not been, bet ‘bean’ - Get it?! Sheesh, laugh a little, already)!!! As a matter of fact, all this McBean talk has made me hungry. I think I’ll get a McChicken sandwich, too, while I’m at it!
Simple minds. Simple pleasures. What can I say?!
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
The good-old-U-S-of-A
I come from a long line of United States Military family members. At one time, I even considered joining, myself. For reasons that are irrelevant to this blog, I never did enlist. Despite that, I was raised in what would be considered your typical middle-class-working American household under the watchful eye and loving hand of an Army dad who later became a restaurant owner/operator, and a part-time grocery store clerk mom who focused the majority of her attention on us three kids while at home, but who also believed in contributing to the family income via working outside of the home in her spare time. Our family was by no means "perfect", and we were far from "rich" monetarily, but through it all there was much love that abounded, and there was an even greater commitment to the bettering of our family lives, home, community, and the country in which we lived. We were taught that as our family was so richly blessed in many ways, it was not only our responsibility and our duty to reach out and bless others in kind - to give back, but our PRIVILEGE to have the OPPORTUNITY and FREEDOM to be able to do so.
A very large part of my upbringing submersed me in not only the concept of Christian morals, values, and beliefs, but also very patriotic ideations. I was taught that the United States of America was the GREATEST country in the world; that she represented GREAT principles that were attained at the loss of many, many lives over the years throughout several wars - all for the sake of MY continued freedom (in one capacity or another), and that of my future children. I was taught the personal values and appreciation for all those who had gone before me, sacrificing their civilian independence for a military lifestyle to insure that this GREAT nation would not only survive, but thrive. Freedom of speech. Freedom to think. Freedom to choose. Freedom how to live. Freedom of religion. More freedoms than any other nation in this world. And they did it all for me... and for you. Today is no different.
So, no matter what your own personal beliefs may be at this very difficult moment in time in our nation - whether you're for the war or against the war in Iraq; whether you're for President Bush or against President Bush; whether you're for foreign policy or against foreign policy; whether you agree or disagree with many issues involving this nation at this present time - I would humbly ask that you would learn to honor and respect all those service men and women who have served over the years (and who continue to serve daily) of their own free will and volition for the sake of this nation's future freedom and liberties. Don't make what all those who have gone before us, for the benefit OF US, to have been done in vain.
You may not agree with what's taking place in the world around you whatsoever, but is it too much to ask - to EXPECT -that you have the maturity and decency to still honor your President, honor your flag, and honor your nation at large, even though you disagree with policy? What has happened to the civil citizens that once this nation had? Do you no longer believe in what this great land stands for? Freedom. Liberty. Justice. For ALL.
In the midst of a troubled nation where it's citizens behavior can oftentimes be viewed as treasonous, I will STILL proudly stand in the midst of you all - alone if need be - as one of the remaining few who proclaim, "I love my country. I love my flag and all that it proudly stands for as it waves in the breeze. I will honor my President, even when I don't agree with him. I will pray for those who serve for my freedom, and that of my children's. I will never give up on finding solutions to our problems through proactive, positive measures. I was born an American, and I will live my life conveying to its fullest all that the word 'American' should mean to the world today: Righteous. Honest. Sincere. Hard working. Compassionate. Free. Proud... until the day I die. This IS the land of the free and the home of the brave. This IS the greatest nation is the world. I vow to do MY part in insuring that what my forefathers gave their lives for will not be lost in either my generation, or the next." America, I salute you!
Yes, you have the right to speak freely about your concerns and disputes over current events and policies - and be very thankful that you do, because if you were in most any other nation in the world, you would NOT! But next time, before you automatically lash out about American issues that you are in disagreement over, maybe it would be a good idea if you think before you speak - because I really don't believe that negativity and destructive attitudes, like pointing the finger at any one person or thing in blame, is conducive to actually SOLVING any of America's problems today. Do you? Stop focusing on just the problems exclusively, and learn to work TOGETHER again for solutions.
Monday, March 17, 2008
"Champagne Wishes and Caviar Dreams..."
One day, when I'm rich and famous... (or at least once my kids are grown and gone!) I have dreams of travelling to Europe. Being that I still have romantic notions about princes of might and valor, pretty princesses, and knights in shining armor, I would love to visit some of the great castles of Europe. One of the very first I would see when venturing to Ireland would be Ashford Castle in Cong, Co Mayo; about 30 miles away from the city of Galway.
It was founded about eight centuries ago (around 1228) by the Anglo-Norman de Burgo family following the defeat of the native O'Connors of Connaught. It served as a mighty fortress for many years to come, and it's ownership changed hands numerous times over the centuries.
As you can clearly see, it's set amidst the backdrop of spectacular forests, lakes, and mountains, and has an almost magical, ethereal quality to it's physical characteristics that stirs up little-girl fantasies of fire breathing dragons and jousting knights attempting to win the hand of a fair maiden.
Although it has undergone many changes over the years, it appears to still retain the beauty of it's former glory. It's actually a hotel/castle now, so people can STAY in it during vacations!
As with most luxury hotels, this has the typical spa treatments and exercise rooms available for its patrons to frequent, but what this particular one has that all the others do NOT is... a school of Falconry! Yes, I'm serious! Isn't that unique? I would definitely have a visit with the school (and the Falconer's not bad, himself, either I might add)!
Around 1985, a group of Irish-American investors actually purchased Ashford Castle and restored it to the luxurious castle that appears before us, today. (In fact, it's certain to be BETTER than ever, because castles were typically not built as places of luxury in their origin, but of necessity). There are hundreds of beautiful acres to the estate where visitors can relax while picnicing, fishing, hiking, etc. in addition to exploring the grand castle itself, gardens, and grounds.
Many rich and famous Americans have stayed within the castle walls (Jack Nicholson, The Reagans, Molly Ringwald, Johnny Cash, Harry Belafonte, John Travolta, and more) and I can't wait until MY name is added to the list of guests! (I better start saving my money NOW, I'm sure!)
So tell me... where do YOU dream of going?!
It was founded about eight centuries ago (around 1228) by the Anglo-Norman de Burgo family following the defeat of the native O'Connors of Connaught. It served as a mighty fortress for many years to come, and it's ownership changed hands numerous times over the centuries.
As you can clearly see, it's set amidst the backdrop of spectacular forests, lakes, and mountains, and has an almost magical, ethereal quality to it's physical characteristics that stirs up little-girl fantasies of fire breathing dragons and jousting knights attempting to win the hand of a fair maiden.
Although it has undergone many changes over the years, it appears to still retain the beauty of it's former glory. It's actually a hotel/castle now, so people can STAY in it during vacations!
As with most luxury hotels, this has the typical spa treatments and exercise rooms available for its patrons to frequent, but what this particular one has that all the others do NOT is... a school of Falconry! Yes, I'm serious! Isn't that unique? I would definitely have a visit with the school (and the Falconer's not bad, himself, either I might add)!
Around 1985, a group of Irish-American investors actually purchased Ashford Castle and restored it to the luxurious castle that appears before us, today. (In fact, it's certain to be BETTER than ever, because castles were typically not built as places of luxury in their origin, but of necessity). There are hundreds of beautiful acres to the estate where visitors can relax while picnicing, fishing, hiking, etc. in addition to exploring the grand castle itself, gardens, and grounds.
Many rich and famous Americans have stayed within the castle walls (Jack Nicholson, The Reagans, Molly Ringwald, Johnny Cash, Harry Belafonte, John Travolta, and more) and I can't wait until MY name is added to the list of guests! (I better start saving my money NOW, I'm sure!)
So tell me... where do YOU dream of going?!
Friday, March 14, 2008
Top o’ the mornin’ to ye! Come on in and listen to me bunch o’ blarney!
A chairde, Cead Mile failte (Translated: Dear friends, a thousand welcomes to ye!),
Being that it’s St. Patrick’s Day weekend, I thought I’d share with ye a bit o’ the Irish superstition and folklore that’s been handed down from generation to generation. In fact, some Irish stories have been in written form since the 8th century, but most originated over 2,000 years ago when the druids passed stories on orally.
The most famous of these legends (or infamous, if ye prefer to refer to them in that manner), is the Irish fairy more popular than them all – otherwise known as the Leprechaun! Standing only about two-feet-tall, these little old shoemakers with rosy cheeks and twinkling eyes look friendly, but they're actually quite the tricksters. Being aloof and unfriendly little fairy souls, leprechauns aren't easy to spot. No, indeed. They spend all their time busily making shoes, and stashing away all the money their craft brings them in a hidden pot o’ gold at the end of the rainbow. Everyone's heard o’ the legendary pot o’ gold, and the only way to track one is to follow the sound of a leprechaun hammering the shoes. They say if ye catch one, he'll promise to take ye to his pot o’ gold, if ye can just keep him in yer sights! But these tricky little fellows know just how to get ye to look away. Once ye do, they've disappeared and yer chance of riches is gone, gone, gone! Keep in mind that they’re given to excess, so if ye hear one a’ hammerin’ shoes this weekend, ye need only bring out the bottle o’ whiskey, pipe tobacco, snuff, and Guinness to capture his attention!
Then there’s the trefoil, or Shamrock. It was at one time called the “Seamroy”, and it symbolizes the cross and blessed trinity. The legend of the Shamrock is directly connected to none other than yer old friend, St. Patrick, and his teachings. When preaching in the open air on the doctrine of the trinity, he is said to have illustrated the existence of the ‘Three In One’ by plucking a Shamrock from the grass growing at his feet and showing it to his congregation. Before the Christian era though, the Shamrock was a sacred plant of the Druids because its leaves formed a triad. (Personally though, I prefer the four-leaf clover; but that's another story!)
Finally, another well known legend is that of King Lir, his children, and the swans. It is said that King Lir’s wife (the children’s jealous stepmother) had all four of his children turned into swans for 400 years! The sentence is now long passed and the four died as ancient humans, but to this day it is illegal to kill swans in Ireland! (Although, I fail to see WHY anybody would WANT to kill swans, anyway. They’re beautiful!)
And now, for yer grand finale – a poem about me favorite little green fella o’ the weekend – written by Sheri Amon.
The Legend of the Leprechaun
by Sheri Amon
Oh, the leprechaun, a mysterious fellow,
An Irish fairy he be.
An unfriendly sort who keeps to himself,
A miserly fellow is he.
Making shoes for his living, not a bit does he spend,
Instead stores it all in a pot.
At the end of the rainbow his hiding place is,
And to find it will bring you good luck.
If you happen to hear a shoemaker's hammer,
tis the sound that a leprechaun makes.
Find him and corner him, he'll tell you his secret,
If a stare you can maintain.
Look not away for this fairy is tricky,
He'll attempt to sway your glance.
Gone will he be, look away for a moment,
And you'll lose your one only chance.
So then, have ye some corned beef and cabbage and green beer this weekend! And do yerself a favor if ye catch that leprechaun, kick up yer heels and dance ye a little jig over his pot o’ gold!
Go mea dai Diatha! Slan go foil. (Translated: May God prosper you! Bye for now!)
Being that it’s St. Patrick’s Day weekend, I thought I’d share with ye a bit o’ the Irish superstition and folklore that’s been handed down from generation to generation. In fact, some Irish stories have been in written form since the 8th century, but most originated over 2,000 years ago when the druids passed stories on orally.
The most famous of these legends (or infamous, if ye prefer to refer to them in that manner), is the Irish fairy more popular than them all – otherwise known as the Leprechaun! Standing only about two-feet-tall, these little old shoemakers with rosy cheeks and twinkling eyes look friendly, but they're actually quite the tricksters. Being aloof and unfriendly little fairy souls, leprechauns aren't easy to spot. No, indeed. They spend all their time busily making shoes, and stashing away all the money their craft brings them in a hidden pot o’ gold at the end of the rainbow. Everyone's heard o’ the legendary pot o’ gold, and the only way to track one is to follow the sound of a leprechaun hammering the shoes. They say if ye catch one, he'll promise to take ye to his pot o’ gold, if ye can just keep him in yer sights! But these tricky little fellows know just how to get ye to look away. Once ye do, they've disappeared and yer chance of riches is gone, gone, gone! Keep in mind that they’re given to excess, so if ye hear one a’ hammerin’ shoes this weekend, ye need only bring out the bottle o’ whiskey, pipe tobacco, snuff, and Guinness to capture his attention!
Then there’s the trefoil, or Shamrock. It was at one time called the “Seamroy”, and it symbolizes the cross and blessed trinity. The legend of the Shamrock is directly connected to none other than yer old friend, St. Patrick, and his teachings. When preaching in the open air on the doctrine of the trinity, he is said to have illustrated the existence of the ‘Three In One’ by plucking a Shamrock from the grass growing at his feet and showing it to his congregation. Before the Christian era though, the Shamrock was a sacred plant of the Druids because its leaves formed a triad. (Personally though, I prefer the four-leaf clover; but that's another story!)
Finally, another well known legend is that of King Lir, his children, and the swans. It is said that King Lir’s wife (the children’s jealous stepmother) had all four of his children turned into swans for 400 years! The sentence is now long passed and the four died as ancient humans, but to this day it is illegal to kill swans in Ireland! (Although, I fail to see WHY anybody would WANT to kill swans, anyway. They’re beautiful!)
And now, for yer grand finale – a poem about me favorite little green fella o’ the weekend – written by Sheri Amon.
The Legend of the Leprechaun
by Sheri Amon
Oh, the leprechaun, a mysterious fellow,
An Irish fairy he be.
An unfriendly sort who keeps to himself,
A miserly fellow is he.
Making shoes for his living, not a bit does he spend,
Instead stores it all in a pot.
At the end of the rainbow his hiding place is,
And to find it will bring you good luck.
If you happen to hear a shoemaker's hammer,
tis the sound that a leprechaun makes.
Find him and corner him, he'll tell you his secret,
If a stare you can maintain.
Look not away for this fairy is tricky,
He'll attempt to sway your glance.
Gone will he be, look away for a moment,
And you'll lose your one only chance.
So then, have ye some corned beef and cabbage and green beer this weekend! And do yerself a favor if ye catch that leprechaun, kick up yer heels and dance ye a little jig over his pot o’ gold!
Go mea dai Diatha! Slan go foil. (Translated: May God prosper you! Bye for now!)
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
You're a naughty, naughty boy!
Psst. . . How well do you REALLY know your spouse?!
What is this, “The Year of the Intern”?! Every time I turn on the TV lately, the headlines are plastered with news of saucy political sex scandals taking place amongst America’s politicians.
It all takes me on a journey back in time to the days of “Slick Willie” (AKA President Bill Clinton) and the good ol’ Monica Lewinsky political sex scandal.
Reporter: “Mr. President, have you at any time in the past engaged in sex acts with intern, Monica Lewinsky?”
Slick Willie: “No, sir. Absolutely not. I swear that I have NEVER had sexual relations with that woman”.
www.cnn.com/ALLPOLITICS/1998/resources/lewinsky/timeline/
Yeah. Right. We believe you. (Currently winking).
More recently than Slick’s incident, has been the Sex, Texts, and Lies scandal that recently rocked the community of Detroit with their Mayor, Kwame Kilpatrick, having had a long term sexual affair with his Chief of Staff, Christine Beatty. The circumstances of this particular scandal evolved out of a Whistleblower’s lawsuit which involved the unjust firing of two former Detroit police officers, and the Mayor perjuring himself under oath (lying on the witness stand ) pertaining to that case. Apparently, unbeknownst to the Detroit City Council, he (the mayor) made a secret deal to cover up those facts, which cost the taxpayers in the city of Detroit only a measly. . . $9,000,000.00. . . http://thedetroitreport.com/
Is that all?! (Currently shrugging).
Yeah. Right. Somehow, I’m quite certain the citizens have better things to do with their money during a recession than throw it away on a gangster mayor who is getting caught up in his own lies.
(This story is still in progress, but it appears highly likely that the mayor will be criminally charged by the prosecuting attorney, end up disbarred - he is an attorney, himself -, and could spend up to 15 years in prison for the coverup).
Today, I click on the television only to be greeted by the caption that the New York Governor, Eliot Spitzer has resigned after getting caught in a call-girl scandal that has basically made a mockery of his “straight arrow” image. He also will be faced with the prospect of criminal charges being filed against him, as well as possible disbarment (hmm. . . another lawyer).
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080312/ap_on_re_us/spitzer_prostitution
In his situation, apparently Federal law enforcement officials placed a wire tap on the 48-year-old father of three’s phone line, thereby catching him off-guard in the act of repeatedly spending thousands of dollars on a call-girl at a fancy Washington Hotel.
Yeah. Right. (Currently scratching head with index finger).
Is it just me, or does anybody else seem to think that real life politics nowadays has begun to mimic the latest episode of the “Sex and the City” television drama series? I find myself thinking, “Jeez, I can hardly wait to see next week’s episode (not!)”.
When I was watching footage of the consequences of the latest political sex scandal erupt earlier today, I noted that the Governor’s wife was up there with him, publicly. Thinking back, I realized that’s exactly the place where I saw the Mayor of Detroit’s wife when his “shit hit the fan”, and further still, that’s exactly where we found Hillary when Billy Boy came clean.
I mentally asked myself WHY in the world these women were standing beside their men under such embarrassing, pathetic, criminal circumstances. Don’t get me wrong – I love my husband, too. But on the same note, I think if he were ever in the position of these men, where he was a prominent political figure, community leader, and role model for youth and citizens alike, the ONLY reason I’d ever be by his side under similar circumstances (on a stage publicly after incidents of sexual promiscuity and alleged felonies had taken place) would be so that I could have the perfect setup to haul off and blast him across the face with my slap where everyone could see - if for no other reason than the simple fact of the embarrassment he would have caused his family to suffer (as well as that of his supporters). I could NOT have just stood there like a puppet-on-a-string by his side acting like everything was alright. I’m just not "fake" enough to do that, and I honestly think I would buckle under the stress emotionally, and not be able to control my arm from arising all on its own . . . WHACK! (No, I do not have impulse control problems! I’d just be extremely pissed! What’s he gonna do – press charges for assault?! Yeah. Right. My husband, the filthy, lying, political criminal? Not likely. )
Thinking along these lines though got me wondering. . . how well do we really know our spouses or significant others?!?!?!?!?! I mean, we think we do. We believe we do. But I’m sure these women all thought they knew their spouses, too, and didn’t. . . not really.
What do you think???
What is this, “The Year of the Intern”?! Every time I turn on the TV lately, the headlines are plastered with news of saucy political sex scandals taking place amongst America’s politicians.
It all takes me on a journey back in time to the days of “Slick Willie” (AKA President Bill Clinton) and the good ol’ Monica Lewinsky political sex scandal.
Reporter: “Mr. President, have you at any time in the past engaged in sex acts with intern, Monica Lewinsky?”
Slick Willie: “No, sir. Absolutely not. I swear that I have NEVER had sexual relations with that woman”.
www.cnn.com/ALLPOLITICS/1998/resources/lewinsky/timeline/
Yeah. Right. We believe you. (Currently winking).
More recently than Slick’s incident, has been the Sex, Texts, and Lies scandal that recently rocked the community of Detroit with their Mayor, Kwame Kilpatrick, having had a long term sexual affair with his Chief of Staff, Christine Beatty. The circumstances of this particular scandal evolved out of a Whistleblower’s lawsuit which involved the unjust firing of two former Detroit police officers, and the Mayor perjuring himself under oath (lying on the witness stand ) pertaining to that case. Apparently, unbeknownst to the Detroit City Council, he (the mayor) made a secret deal to cover up those facts, which cost the taxpayers in the city of Detroit only a measly. . . $9,000,000.00. . . http://thedetroitreport.com/
Is that all?! (Currently shrugging).
Yeah. Right. Somehow, I’m quite certain the citizens have better things to do with their money during a recession than throw it away on a gangster mayor who is getting caught up in his own lies.
(This story is still in progress, but it appears highly likely that the mayor will be criminally charged by the prosecuting attorney, end up disbarred - he is an attorney, himself -, and could spend up to 15 years in prison for the coverup).
Today, I click on the television only to be greeted by the caption that the New York Governor, Eliot Spitzer has resigned after getting caught in a call-girl scandal that has basically made a mockery of his “straight arrow” image. He also will be faced with the prospect of criminal charges being filed against him, as well as possible disbarment (hmm. . . another lawyer).
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080312/ap_on_re_us/spitzer_prostitution
In his situation, apparently Federal law enforcement officials placed a wire tap on the 48-year-old father of three’s phone line, thereby catching him off-guard in the act of repeatedly spending thousands of dollars on a call-girl at a fancy Washington Hotel.
Yeah. Right. (Currently scratching head with index finger).
Is it just me, or does anybody else seem to think that real life politics nowadays has begun to mimic the latest episode of the “Sex and the City” television drama series? I find myself thinking, “Jeez, I can hardly wait to see next week’s episode (not!)”.
When I was watching footage of the consequences of the latest political sex scandal erupt earlier today, I noted that the Governor’s wife was up there with him, publicly. Thinking back, I realized that’s exactly the place where I saw the Mayor of Detroit’s wife when his “shit hit the fan”, and further still, that’s exactly where we found Hillary when Billy Boy came clean.
I mentally asked myself WHY in the world these women were standing beside their men under such embarrassing, pathetic, criminal circumstances. Don’t get me wrong – I love my husband, too. But on the same note, I think if he were ever in the position of these men, where he was a prominent political figure, community leader, and role model for youth and citizens alike, the ONLY reason I’d ever be by his side under similar circumstances (on a stage publicly after incidents of sexual promiscuity and alleged felonies had taken place) would be so that I could have the perfect setup to haul off and blast him across the face with my slap where everyone could see - if for no other reason than the simple fact of the embarrassment he would have caused his family to suffer (as well as that of his supporters). I could NOT have just stood there like a puppet-on-a-string by his side acting like everything was alright. I’m just not "fake" enough to do that, and I honestly think I would buckle under the stress emotionally, and not be able to control my arm from arising all on its own . . . WHACK! (No, I do not have impulse control problems! I’d just be extremely pissed! What’s he gonna do – press charges for assault?! Yeah. Right. My husband, the filthy, lying, political criminal? Not likely. )
Thinking along these lines though got me wondering. . . how well do we really know our spouses or significant others?!?!?!?!?! I mean, we think we do. We believe we do. But I’m sure these women all thought they knew their spouses, too, and didn’t. . . not really.
What do you think???
Friday, March 7, 2008
Collage-style Art
I find collage-style artforms very interesting to view. I enjoy the busy-ness of the art, the color variations, subjects, textures, depths, and framings. I oftentimes find myself thinking, "Is there a moral to this picture? What is the message the artist is trying to convey?" while viewing it. "Do I agree with the artist's perspective? Have they utilized good skill in arranging the collage?" , etc. I believe it's a rather unique form of creativity that captures my attention in a dramatic way.
Below I've posted a few variations that I find quite good. Please feel free to leave me your comments as to whether or not you like them. If so / if not, why / why not?
Below I've posted a few variations that I find quite good. Please feel free to leave me your comments as to whether or not you like them. If so / if not, why / why not?
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