Wednesday, December 24, 2008
This holiday season has been such a treat for us, both literally, and figuratively. We received homemade cookies and jam from five of our wonderful neighbors. As what has now become a holiday tradition, we made a ton of rice krispy treats (my dessert range is not very wide) to give out as well. Whether in the receiving, or even more so in the giving, there is nothing tastier than homemade desserts, especially from those who are a part of your community and everyday life. Love thy neighbor as thyself. Pretty simple instructions.
Each night we are picking out different combinations of the cookies. Tonight we get to check out the penny sized gingerbread that Emily made with her daughter, Ella, and Cindy's pecan fudge. Last night we had Jerry's shortbread cookies in the shape of candy canes, laced like challah (well, it is Hanukkah as well!), and Elizabeth's chocolate chip dollops.
Due to the snowbound roads, we haven't yet partaken of Jane's without equal "Stockwell Sisters" shortbread cookies. They melt in your mouth, "like buttah." Yo, Jane, the weather is clearing. You know where to find us!
One can never stress enough the importance of making, and eating, food with love. It is the fundamental ingredient. And, of course, we all know that food made with love has no calories. It is one of those laws of energy of which we are particularly grateful.
I received this adorable photo in an email yesterday, part of a longer one with several photos. But this one just made me stop and smile. Thank you to whoever took this, and for your humor. Your dog is teaching you well.
Monday, December 22, 2008
trans·par·ent (trāns-pâr'ənt, -pār'-) Pronunciation Key
1. Capable of transmitting light so that objects or images can be seen as if there were no intervening material.
2. Permeable to electromagnetic radiation of specified frequencies, as to visible light or radio waves.
3. So fine in texture that it can be seen through; sheer.
4.Easily seen through or detected; obvious: transparent lies.
5. Obsolete: Shining through; luminous.
[Middle English, from Old French, from Medieval Latin trānspārēns, trānspārent-, present participle of trānspārēre, to show through : Latin trāns-, trans- + Latin pārēre, to show.]
The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition
I find it amusing that some people think it is a bad thing to be transparent, as when they say, snidely, "You're so transparent. I can see right through you."
When did guilelessness go out of fashion? If only more people came from their truth, we would have fewer miscommunications, and fewer tangled weaves. It's also easier to maintain ones story when it never strays from the truth.
That's why I love dogs so much. They never lie. Like the fifth definition listed above, which is now considered obsolete (guess over time humans didn't rise enough to the occasion to warrant its continuance), dogs never stray from a constant state of luminosity. They are beacons for those who appreciate divine love on a daily basis.
Take today, for example. It has not stopped snowing all week, and the piles are getting high. Sadie is starting to get really tired of having to do her business with the snow right up her butt. She is not one to hide her displeasure.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Just A Dog
From time to time, people tell me, "lighten up, it's just a dog,"
or, "that's a lot of money for just a dog."
They don't understand the distance traveled, the time spent, or the costs involved for "just a dog."
Some of my proudest moments have come about with "just a dog."
Many hours have passed and my only company was "just a dog,"
but I did not once feel slighted.
Some of my saddest moments have been brought about by "just a dog,"
and in those days of darkness, the gentle touch of "just a dog" gave me comfort and reason to overcome the day.
If you, too, think it's "just a dog," then you will probably understand
phrases like "just a friend," "just a sunrise," or "just a promise."
"Just a dog" brings into my life the very essence of friendship, trust,
and pure unbridled joy.
"Just a dog" brings out the compassion and patience that make me a better person.
Because of "just a dog", I will rise early, take long walks and look longingly to the future.
So for me and folks like me, it's not "just a dog" but an embodiment of all the hopes and dreams of the future, the fond memories of the past, and the pure joy of the moment.
"Just a dog" brings out what's good in me and diverts my thoughts away
from myself and the worries of the day.
I hope that someday they can understand that it's not "just a dog",
but the thing that gives me humanity and keeps me from being "just a person."
So the next time you hear the phrase "just a dog"
because they "just don't understand."
by Richard Biby
Thank you Cindy for sending the poem, and especially for "getting" it. And, thank you Jane, for the harassing voice mails for my lack of entries this week. I am still debating whether that will cost you a Hail Mary, or two.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
The mother of a close friend of mine passed away this morning. Her mother had a stroke a few months back, and her three daughters have stayed at her bedside, watching over her and taking care of her, night and day. It has been a long and painful journey for all, especially my gentle friend, who has a big heart. She has been a nurse for the elderly for many years, but nothing prepares you for the death of your own mother. Her heart is aching heavily and her grief has been overwhelming at times through this journey. I promised her that while her mom deals with the paperwork (the debriefing for the transition out of the pain that was held in her present body), her energy will always be around her. My mother died almost six years ago and yet her comforting energy is with me in every breath I take. She is around me in a grove of trees. She is with me in the loving fur ball that is Sadie, our sweet lab. A mother's love never leaves her children. Like the infinite sequence of the Fibonacci numbers that eventually progress toward the golden mean, children are energy spirals within the spiral of the unconditional love that is the mother. It is just one of those universal laws of energy.
Jane had a co-worker, Krystine, send me this picture of her with her baby girl, Nellie. Look how happy Krystine is in the embrace of unconditional love. The Divine Mother (God, the Goddess, the Source) knew what she was doing when she created dogs. She knew one day all daughters will go through the grieving process of losing their mothers. Dogs carry on the divine love of the Mother, all mothers. Good call, Jane.
Monday, December 8, 2008
This is another picture taken by the Hubble Telescope (your tax dollars actually creating something beneficial, as they were intended). It has been labeled, The Eye of God. True perfection looking down on true perfection looking back up at true perfection, in a never ending cycle. That is what love looks like as energy. Pretty cool. Enjoy its beauty. Enjoy its truth.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Saw this quote online today. Don't know who wrote it. Might have been Sadie.
"If you can start the day without caffeine or pep pills,
If you can be cheerful, ignoring aches and pains,
If you can resist complaining and boring people with your troubles,
If you can eat the same food everyday and be grateful for it,
If you can understand when loved ones are too busy to give you time,
If you can overlook when people take things out on you when,
through no fault of yours, something goes wrong,
If you can take criticism and blame without resentment,
If you can face the world without lies and deceit,
If you can conquer tension without medical help,
If you can relax without liquor,
If you can sleep without the aid of drugs,
If you can do all these things,
Then you are probably the family dog."