Advice for Life
June 15, 2008
Filed under Children, Fatherhood, Life, Mab's Mentor, News, Politics, Reading, Writing, blogging, family, gifts, health and wellness, history, poetry, quotations, reporting
Tags: Add new tag, advice, Children, Father's Day, legacy, live, love, Meet the press, NBC, News, Tim Russert, words, words of wisdom
Priceless and something to pass on to my daughter! Tim has inspired me to write to my daughter but I’ll quote him often as his advice to his son, Luke, was sheer poetry.
Happy Father’s Day
Q
In Honor of Tim Russert
June 13, 2008 
I am so sad to hear of Tim Russert’s death! What a shock and loss of a “clear” (Brokah) true voice in the news industry. I looked forward to hearing Tim’s opinion on the political world confident that his words were not spin but real and honestly researched facts and positions.
When Russert spoke, I listened because what he had to say made sense and he offered original viewpoints that exuded indepth understanding of the subject matter and his distinct intelligence. His integrity and character showed in his obvious respect for people he interviewed giving everyone an opportunity to speak but allowing no one off the hook when discussing difficult topics. In politics, everything is difficult.
My condolences to his family, colleagues, and friends. We have lost a truly monumental newsman - there is no one like Tim Russert. God Bless you Tim!
“Count Your Blessings”
Dormant Muse No More
March 29, 2008
Filed under Business, Home Business, Life, Maine, Writing, blogging, family, gifts, health and wellness, women
It has been a while since I last wrote as Q on the muse but then I’ve been keeping my new website and blog going – dancestones.org and dancestones.wordpress.com – where stones of comfort have consumed my energy and attention. Since visiting Queen Mab’s Muse last many Maine stones have been sent around the country giving comfort to those struggling with loss or illness, those reaching out to friends, and others simply wishing to send their heart felt love to people they care deeply for…
I’ve changed my header to send a message of concern to all who visit my blog…in searching for a sign that what I was doing truly offered the help and support I wished to give I came across this large stone in a sideways cross position as if Jesus had left it that way signifying the ultimate sacrifice of love. Whether or not it was my “message” it made me feel my prayers were being spoken to and besides it makes a great story.
To all those searching to live their passion, don’t give up! Happy End of March, 2008!
Fleeting Beauty Discovered
Stepping into the kitchen late last night I discovered a wonderous sight, a male Luna Moth was clinging to our screen door and seemed to glow lit only by the back porch light. The luminesence of his bright green color, irmen fur coat surrounding his body, mauve legs, and delicate wings decorated with intricately designed eyespots took my breath away. I’m a bit of a nature ”luna – tic” anyway since I will get up in the wee hours of the morning (3:00am) and stare out at full moons, slivers of moon shimmering in winter forests, and clear warm nights of millions of stars regularly from my bathroom window. The Luna Moth was a new and unexpected sight for me leaving me in awe again and counting my blessings yet again for making this difficult trek east for a family life adventure.
Maine (Life) Discovery Continued
June 11, 2007
Filed under Life, Maine, Writing, blogging, environment, family, health and wellness, women
The morning is just stunning. Sun streaming through the windows, a light breeze feathering through the trees lush branches of green leaves, the early summer air clear and smelling of that green, a new day, new world, another chance to begin and live.
Buzz told me spring in Maine is spectacular and was made even more so after the barren winter. I couldn’t believe of such an impact because I thought winter in Maine was “stunning” and also a reawkening to what life could hold. But then came spring and all God’s glory is visible and renewed daily. A different bloom pops up week to week keeping the beauty constantly at the oohing and ahhing stage. I’ve been reduced to childlike responses and vocabulary because the gratitude I feel and joy is gutfelt euphoria.
I love Maine, my new life, my family and all those that inspired me to reach down, take control of who I was to be in the second half of my existence. When fifty comes in two years, who I have become will reflect the tough beauty that is this enigma, Maine.
“To thine ownself be true.” William Shakespeare
Thank you Buzz.
It’s so true…
May 21, 2007
Filed under Life, Motherhood, Reading, Writing, blogging, poetry, quotations
May 21, 2007
 Laughter and tears are both responses to frustration and exhaustion. I myself prefer to laugh, since there is less cleaning up to do afterward. 
— Kurt Vonnegut |
“The opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference.”
I am so disgusted I had to blog my feelings. Everyone is talking about the beating of a 91 year old gentleman and, of course, sensationalizing the video clip by showing it over and over again. But my disgust was gut felt when I realized a whole group of people watched and didn’t even lift a finger to call for help, let alone intervene. What would it take to be a human or show a glimmer of intelligence? These individuals displayed a whole new level of low life. It’s off the charts scummy. There is no question this man is in desperate need so not wanting to get involved, or even more deplorable, not caring is evil. As Elie Wiesel said,
“Of course, indifference can be tempting — more than that, seductive. It is so much easier to look away from victims. It is so much easier to avoid such rude interruptions to our work, our dreams, our hopes. It is, after all, awkward, troublesome, to be involved in another person’s pain and despair. Yet, for the person who is indifferent, his or her neighbor are of no consequence. And, therefore, their lives are meaningless. Their hidden or even visible anguish is of no interest. Indifference reduces the other to an abstraction.”… ”The opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it’s indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it’s indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it’s indifference.
To all of the people responding to the video with racial slurs – you have merely placed yourself next to those who are indifferent by using such a hideous crime to vent your narrow minds equipped singularly with ignorance. This situation is about people…if you hold such great hate that race defines your life’s confines, you are a lost soul and need to search your own heart to find the strength to realize your dreams and desires. No one is to blame for your situation in life but you.
Poetry to think on…
May 3, 2007
Filed under Life, Motherhood, Reading, Writing, blogging, family, poetry, quotations, women
in honor of Mother Poem A Day: from Poets.org
I found the poem to at first turn me off, not what I expected to something truly thought provoking and intriguing. I love the last stanza especially.Mother
by Herman de Coninck
translated by Kurt Brown & Laure-Anne Bosselaar
What you do with time
is what a grandmother clock
does with it: strike twelve
and take its time doing it.
You’re the clock: time passes,
you remain. And wait.
Waiting is what happens to
a snow-covered garden,
a trunk under moss,
hope for better times
in the nineteenth century,
or words in a poem.
For poetry is about letting things
grow moldy together, like grapes
turning into wine, reality into preserves,
and hoarding words
in the cellar of yourself.
A Moment of Brilliance…
April 28, 2007
Filed under Life, Murder and Suspense, Mystery, Reading, Writing, blogging, poetry, quotations
…as I was reading John Connolly’s, Dark Hollow:
“An Old Man walks through the lush August grass with wood in his arms, brushing away loose bark with a gloved hand; an old man, tall unbowed, with a halo of white hair like an ancient angel, a dog stepping slowly beside him, older, in its way, than the man himself, its grey-beard muzzle flecked with foam, its tongue lolling, its tail swinging gently through the warm evening air. The first patches of red are showing in the trees, and the clamor of the insects has begun to subside. The ash trees, the last to unfurl their leaves in spring, are now the first to let them fall to the ground. Pine needles decay on the forest floor and the black berries are ripe and dense as the old man passes by , at one with the rhythms of the world around him…”
The next paragraph describing the ax in his hands, splitting wood, and I was there wishing for when that rhythm will resonate with us as people from away learning to be of Maine.
