Salon.com – Global cooling on the brain It’s cold outside! Must mean manmade climate change is a crock. Right? By Andrew Leonard

“It is alarming how many smart people do little more than look at the weather outside and then make a decision on whether global warming is real or not.” – Andrew Leonard

A site dedicated to quotes taken in context is realclimate.com…good place to get the facts.

Advertisements

“Count Your Blessings”

A Josh Groban medley of lyrics made into a “found” poem written to reflect the fear and anxiety about loosing our home – of course it helps if you love Josh!  “Count your blessings” was the last advice my grandfather gave me our last night together before he died of lymphoma.  If he could count his blessings fighting cancer, I can count mine no matter what is happening in my life.
 
“Count Your Blessings…”
 
My forever Love 
Weeping
Fly me up to where you are beyond the distant star
A Secret Place
Don’t Give Up
Because you want to be heard
A Splendor in the light,
The sun on your skin, (my child)
Rest your wings my butterfly
Everybody wants to be understood
Everybody wants to be loved
I feel you all around me
Believe
It’s Now or Never
Somewhere Over the Rainbow
We were Dreamers not so long ago
Magic slipped away
Believe in what your heart is telling
Isn’t Faith believing all power can’t be seen?
Somedays we forget to look around us
Somedays we can’t see the joy that surrounds us
For tonight we pray for what we know can be –
It’s up to us to be the change
There’s so much to be thankful for
Each of us must find our truth
 
“Count you blessings”
Compiled by Mel

All the $ and Beauty in the World…

…won’t fix my father’s health.  How ironic that a man dedicated to daily workouts, cuisine lean and devoid of sugar or fat, and rigorous activity should be aflicted with an intestinal blockage.  His recovery from the colon surgery, of course, was phenomenal because of his outstanding physical condition however the problem was more than a constricted bowel .  Despite all the “clean” living and obsessive exercise, my dad was diagnosed with cancer.  Had he followed Katie Couric’s advice and had a regular colonoscopy, the cancer might have been detected much earlier preventing its spread to his liver.  His invincible spirit instantly felled with his physical health.  Dad’s greatest fear is that he won’t be able to work and to participate in life with clarity and energy.

Suddenly all that seemed important before is put into perspective. 

Poetry to think on…

in honor of Mother  Poem A Day: from Poets.org

Academy of American Poets <poetnews@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.

With Spring and Sun comes…

…the need for fewer clothes covering the body.  Having already begun the cleaving of pounds process, I needed to address my body image.  Most of the time I hide in large sizes thinking I look better than exposing my curves to the general public.  Wrong…I watch the shows that give women makeovers, the Oprah shows on looking your best no matter what your size, etc.  I now only own one or two black outfits and have fallen in love with scarves, 3/4 sleeves (oldie but a goody), and bright colors in flattering solids or “non-expanding” designs.  I’m willing to stop wearing tents but polka dots and horizontal lines are for more slender people, they do nothing but make me look larger.  Jackets, jean or otherwise, with curve appeal – not boxy and square but slightly fitted, are my saving grace.  I can wear something sleeveless but don’t feel undressed or exposed and my lumps are covered but my curves are accentuated.

To top it all off, I started my own Arbonne business.  A few weeks ago I blogged about my friend’s business and how wonderful the Arbonne skin care system felt.  It was so good I had to join her team and spread the word.  Since it is more beneficial than any product I  ever tried in my life, and that’s a lot, I felt a desire to be a part of the company.  In a sense the Arbonne opportunity was presented to me at a time when it was actually an answer to my prayers.  How lucky I am to not only begin getting younger looking skin but to be making money helping others do the same as well!

There are baby/children and mens products that I have just begun to use from Arbonne as well as a weight loss system that I thought I’d try with a before and after picture of myself.

 If you’d like a sample and want more information, check out suissebeaute.myarbonne.com

Email – SwissSkye@myarbonne.com

Consider the Hands..

…begins the poem Consider the Hands that Write This Letter
by Aracelis Girmay (poetnews@poets.org)

Which leads to all sorts of stories.  I always liked the country song about Daddy’s hands because it made me think of my grandfather’s big gnarled hands that so gently held my hand, taught me to drive the tractor, and made such beautiful pieces of furniture.  Arthritis had made them nearly immobile in many ways but it never stopped him from participating in life to the fullest.  He taught me to always count my blessings and I do as I consider his hands…

Carpe Diem – Make Your Life Extraordinary

…is my motto and I have signed it on many eighth grade student’s year books.  Here’s another by an author of great wisdom, Mark Twain.
“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”  – Mark Twain