30 April, 2012

{this moment} 49

A Monday ritual. A single image - no words - capturing a moment from the past - sometimes a place with many moments - but somewhere along my life's Journey over which I wish to linger and savor each treasured aspect of the memories it evokes. If you are moved or intrigued by my {this moment}, please leave a comment. On Thursday in a companion ritual called {this memory}, I'll share the story of this moment.
{this moment}
Copyright © 2012 Thomas G. Brown

{this moment} is a ritual copied and adapted from cath's wonderful blog ~just my thoughts. She, in turn, borrowed it from Pamanner's Blog. Check out their blogs, and if you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your {this moment} in the comments for each of us to find and see.
TGB   

29 April, 2012

Head Of Household?


At the end of the age when all the believers were standing in line waiting to get into heaven, God appeared and said, "I want all the men to form two lines."

God continued,"One line will be for the men who were the true heads of their households. The other will be for the men who were dominated by their wives."

God then said, "I want all the women to report to St. Peter."

The women left, and the men formed two lines. The line of men who were dominated by their wives was seemingly unending. The line of men who were the true head of their household had but one man in it.

God said to the first line, "You men ought to be ashamed of yourselves. I appointed you to be the heads of your households, and you were disobedient. You have not fulfilled your purpose. Of all of you, there is only one man who obeyed me. Learn from him."

Then God turned to the lone man and asked, "How did you come to be in this line?"

The man replied, "My wife told me to stand here."
Author Unknown   

28 April, 2012

Tree

Almost every day I photograph this tree near my office window - always from the same angle, the same zoom, and about the same time of day. This is my favorite image from the past week.
TGB   

Copyright © 2012 Thomas G. Brown

To view a video set to music that contains 135 images taken over 12 months, click here.

For the 2010 collection of images, click here.
For the 2011 collection of images, click here.
For the 2012 collection of images, click here.

26 April, 2012

{this memory} 48

This is the story behind last Monday's {this moment}.

You're in Central New York - on my side porch, to be precise.

I painted this rainbow on my porch ceiling when I built this home in 1985. I told my daughters it was for them - that whenever they came home and looked up to see the rainbow, they would know I loved them.

Both of my daughters are grown and with challenging careers. The older one has a child of her own and may one day paint her own rainbow, but the meaning behind this rainbow remains pure - although I may be the one who looks at it the most.

It serves still its purpose - I am reminded of how proud I am of them and how much I love them.

So many wonderful memories - I am a fortunate man.
TGB


25 April, 2012

The Dance

When I am with her, there are moments when our energies mingle, sometimes ebbing, sometimes surging in a spiral of forces quite difficult to describe. It is an encounter as unique as it is powerful, a rendezvous that must be experienced to be fully appreciated. Maybe you have.

"Okay," you have to be wondering, "what is he talking about now?" First, let me be clear that it's entirely professional - although taken out of context those words could describe a lot of things, I suppose. In this case, it's about a physical therapist I have been seeing for almost twenty years. There have been significant gaps in that history, but I always return because it's obvious I am healthier when I am treated, at least once every few weeks.

Secondly, it's about my Neglected Left. Nerves scarred by five courses of radiation therapy, adhesions from multiple surgeries, damage from repeated septicemia. Each did its share of harm, and from my left shoulder to my left hand, all one will notice is major atrophy and occasional swelling from lymphedema.

My sessions are one-on-one, and my therapist is hands on. She is not overseeing several patients at once while they work out on machines. There is touch, human touch, and the treatments are usually focused on my neck and chest rather than my arm. I wouldn't describe it as massage since there is little muscle-specific stroking, but there is pressure, stretching, and stroking - sometimes lightly and superficially, sometimes intensely and deeply. This attention to the scarring and adhesions has also helped with breathing, with lymph flow, and with my skin’s elasticity in the affected areas.

My reactions in these sessions are somewhat transcendent. I usually melt into the table and have to be scraped off - although for most of the session I am off soaring somewhere and need post-session time to become grounded again. Earth to Thom. Fans of eastern medicine would understand.

We have become good friends over the years, and in these sessions there is a special connection between our spirits that I have experienced with only one other. I can't explain it, and I have given up trying. Today I just accept it for the gift that it is.

I am a doctorally-trained neuroscientist, but in spite of a left brain screaming scientific aphorisms that echo about my neurocranium, I cannot deny the reality of these experiences just because they are difficult to explain from a Western medicine perspective. If life has taught me anything, it is that there are multiple paths to truth, and we should be open to all of them.

My physical therapist calls it “the Dance” – this intermingling of energies. It's a perfect metaphor. I can use more of this medicinal music.
TGB   

24 April, 2012

Seriously?!

I was recently asked to speak to a group of 150 or so students who had been accepted to my college for next year and their parents. I guess about 90% of these students ultimately show up in the fall, but we like to put our best foot forward so ensure that. What follows is a somewhat edited version of my remarks. It borrows 'liberally' from other sources.

I’ve been asked to speak to you about the liberal arts and why they are important.

I don’t really want to; it's a much too gorgeous day out there. Early afternoon, clear sky, and 80˚F. Higher education has been built around the liberal arts for the better part a thousand years. There are many more 'current' things we could discuss, but they want me to tell you why you should care about the liberal arts.

If you're wondering what they are, there were originally seven – three that were thought to be basic and foundational and then four more advanced ones.

In the first group, there was grammar which dealt with the structure of language, logic dealing with the structure of thought, and rhetoric which was concerned with the use of language and/or thought to inform or persuade others. With those skills in hand, you were then presumed ready to study the four more complex fields of geometry, arithmetic, astronomy, and music.

In fact, the simpler first three were known as the Trivium which gives us our word 'trivial' – originally meaning 'something simpler.' Today they have come to mean 'something less important,' an unfortunate lexical evolution. The Trivium is anything but trivial.

As colleges and universities matured, more and more disciplines were added. For example, by the 1400s languages other than Latin were being taught, and by the 1500s 'natural magic' was introduced - the experimental sciences like chemistry and physics.

We have taken this study of the liberal arts seriously at UC, as have most colleges, and probably a third of your coursework for a bachelor’s degree will be focused in the liberal arts and sciences.

The curriculum here offers a distinctive blend of liberal arts and professional studies. It's one that we think gives our students great preparation both to secure good jobs after graduation, to advance in their chosen fields, and to be adaptive enough to switch careers, if they should decide to.

Our students are graduated with the ability to write and to speak effectively. We stress it here because - whether it’s fair or not - people will be judged all their lives by their ability to communicate.

Our students also graduate with the ability to analyze ideas from several points of view. Aristotle wrote that it is a mark of the educated mind to be able entertain a thought without accepting it. I agree. You don’t have to embrace an idea to explore its value, but you need to be willing to do so and have the skills that allow you to do so.

So ultimately a liberally educated individual can think critically, write well, speak well, have a skeptical attitude so they can separate fact from fiction, understand diverse perspectives, and arrive at creative solutions to complex problems.

And wouldn't you know it - these are just the skills employers say are most important to them.

Equally important, I think, is that such people become self-educating so they never stop learning. Most people change employers at some point. Today there are very few like me; I’m an anachronism – one employer for 37 years. Most folks change employers several times, and many change even their whole career focus.

A good liberal education is what gives you the requisite skills and confidence that allows you to do that. So are they still important after a millennium? Of course.

I never quite sure how long to go on about this. There is the 50 minute version of this, and I even have a 75 minute version. Perhaps I'll save those for another day.

At UC and most schools students get to evaluate their professors at the end of a course, and I once read a story of two colleagues discussing their results. I'm sure it's apocryphal.

One professor shared a comment from his that read, “If I had only 20 minutes left to live, I would want to spend it in the presence of Dr. Proctor.” The other colleague thought that was wonderful and said so. Dr. Proctor said, “Wait, you didn’t let me finish."

He went on, “If I had only 20 minutes left to live, I would want to spend it in the presence of Dr. Proctor - because in his class, every minute seems like an hour.”

So … just in case - today – with this weather - I'm thinking shorter is better. After all, we'll have four years to explore more fully Western history and philosophy. Maybe more.
TGB   

23 April, 2012

{this moment} 48

A Monday ritual. A single image - no words - capturing a moment from the past - sometimes a place with many moments - but somewhere along my life's Journey over which I wish to linger and savor each treasured aspect of the memories it evokes. If you are moved or intrigued by my {this moment}, please leave a comment. On Thursday in a companion ritual called {this memory}, I'll share the story of this moment.
{this moment}
Copyright © 2012 Thomas G. Brown

{this moment} is a ritual copied and adapted from cath's wonderful blog ~just my thoughts. She, in turn, borrowed it from Pamanner's Blog. Check out their blogs, and if you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your {this moment} in the comments for each of us to find and see.
TGB   

22 April, 2012

Preacher's Dying Wish


An old preacher was dying. He sent a message for his banker and his lawyer, both church members, to come to his home.

When they arrived, they were ushered up to his bedroom. As they entered the room, the preacher held out his hands and motioned for them to sit on each side of the bed. The preacher grasped their hands, sighed contentedly, smiled, and stared at the ceiling.

For a time, no one said anything. Both the banker and lawyer were touched and flattered that the preacher would ask them to be with him during his final moments.

They were also puzzled; the preacher had never given them any indication that he particularly liked either of them. They both remembered his many long, uncomfortable sermons about greed, covetousness, and avaricious behavior that made them squirm in their seats.

Finally, the banker said, "Preacher, why did you ask us to come?"

The old preacher mustered up his strength and then said weakly, "Jesus died between two thieves, and that's how I want to go."
Author Unknown

21 April, 2012

Tree

Almost every day I photograph this tree near my office window - always from the same angle, the same zoom, and about the same time of day. This is my favorite image from the past week.
TGB   

Copyright © 2012 Thomas G. Brown

To view a video set to music that contains 135 images taken over 12 months, click here.

For the 2010 collection of images, click here.
For the 2011 collection of images, click here.
For the 2012 collection of images, click here.

20 April, 2012

{poetically plagiarized} 3: Cummings

O, gentle readers, so many forms genius doth take - sometimes simple, sometimes sublime!
TGB   

it is at moments after I have dreamed

it is at moments after i have dreamed
of the rare entertainment of your eyes,
when(being fool to fancy)i have deemed

with your peculiar mouth my heart made wise;
at moments when the glassy darkness holds

the genuine apparition of your smile
(it was through tears always)and silence moulds
such strangeness as was mine a little while;

moments when my once more illustrious arms
are filled with fascination,when my breast
wears the intolerant brightness of your charms:

one pierced moment whiter than the rest

-turning from the tremendous lie of sleep
i watch the roses of the day grow deep.

E.E.Cummings, 1922
(his preferred punctuation)  

19 April, 2012

{this memory} 47

This is the story behind last Monday's {this moment}.

You're in North Carolina - on the Outer Banks, to be precise. You're in Nags Head. I was there on a day trip with my wife and daughters, driving down from Virginia Beach where I grew up and where we were staying with my mother.

In the photo is my younger daughter. We were exploring the largest natural sand dune on the east coast - Jockey's Ridge. It's about 100 feet tall on an island that averages only a few feet in elevation. The encroaching shadow in the bottom right is cast by my wife. The other daughter is up on top taking a hang gliding lesson, very popular here.

The day also included an upscale lunch up north in Duck and a visit to Currituck Beach Lighthouse in Corolla (still further north on the Outer Banks). I'm guessing there was probably some shopping in there somewhere too, if I know my ladies.

So many wonderful memories - I am a fortunate man. Blessed.
TGB

18 April, 2012

Bring Them Home

Gentle Readers, please forgive me for again repeating a post - the third time for this one. There are reasons: (1) there are new readers, (2) my "creative" energies were needed for preparing my tax return, and most importantly, (3) the message needs iteration and reiteration until it's heard. I wish only that I were louder.

I’m thinking about peace and what it might feel like. It must surely be a remarkable thing because we seem to be willing to do a lot of damage to create it.

Like most Americans, I don’t think I have ever felt truly threatened, but I don’t think I have ever experienced peace either - as in the absence of war, as in knowing that none of my fellow citizens are in harm’s way because of their decision the serve in the military. I suppose the first few years of my life were peaceful, but I would have been far too young, however, to appreciate that others were in danger on my behalf.

I was born barely three years after Japan surrendered to end World War II, and for almost the full span of my lifetime we have had soldiers in harm’s way somewhere in this world. There has always been some situation in which we felt it was necessary to load our weapons and aim them at others.

From 1947 until 1991 we were in a Cold War with the Soviet Union. Although there were no generally acknowledged shots fired (hence, the "cold"), we fought proxy wars and aimed our weapons at each other - weapons capable of destroying our beautiful planet many times over. There was nothing to worry about though; in grade school I was carefully taught what to do in case of an atomic blast. Sure. And this is why I continue to subscribe to a hardcopy newspaper even though the ones I actually read for information are online.


Aside from the Berlin Airlift (1948-1949), there was no significant confrontation until the Korean Conflict (1950-1953), but we’ve sure been on a roll since then. Viet Nam (1960-1975). Bay of Pigs Proxy Invasion of Cuba (1961). Cuban Missile Crisis (1962). USS Pueblo Incident (1968). Mayaguez Incident (1975). Gulf of Sidra Incident I (1981). Invasion of Grenada (1983). Gulf of Sidra Incident II (1986). Invasion of Panama (1989). Gulf of Sidra Incident III (1989). Persian Gulf War (1990-1991). Battle of Mogadishu (1993). Bosnia (1995-1996). Missile strikes in Afghanistan and Sudan (1998). Kosovo (1999). Afghanistan (2001-Present). Iraq (2003-2011).

Holy phasers on stun! My point isn’t about whether our actions were justified or not. It's not about whether they were necessary or not. It’s just that I’m tired. I grew up being told if we didn’t stop “them” in Asia, California would be next. The Domino Theory. I might have bought it then, but I’m not buying it today. I have lived through all or parts of eight decades now, and we have experienced hostilities in every one of them. I have lost friends in these hostilities. I’m tired of it and am no longer convinced it has to be. Let the rest of the world worry about the rest of the world. We can protect ourselves here if need be and probably better and far more inexpensively.

I think of the cost. I think of the lost opportunity. I think of our children. In terms of childhood mortality it’s a short walk from the White House to the Middle Ages – with similar nightmares in many cities. Among developed countries, only Poland ranks lower than the U.S. in terms of infant mortality. Our educational systems are in decline. Our infrastructure is in decay. What might we have accomplished had we set our priorities differently? Maybe it’s not too late to find out.
TGB   
Bring them home.
Now.

17 April, 2012

Slow Down, You Move Too Fast

"Slow down. You move too fast.
You got to make the morning last."

I again find myself preoccupied with the present - living in the present, that is. It isn't easy to achieve consistently, at least for me. It's on my mind this week because of the post of a fellow blogger from Australia. See: There is more to life than increasing its speed by Janine Ripper. I find her thoughts about the world to be much like my own.

In this case though, I don't often get overwhelmed by the pace of things, but I do struggle to stay centered in the present. It isn't the past to which I return; I'm good at laying that to rest. I do, however, tend to look ahead, usually with hope that something will happen, but unfortunately that anticipation takes me out of the present.

I've been told on occasion to ride with the tide or to go with the flow. It's pop psychology when expressed that way, but it is also ancient wisdom. Living for the present moment is sometimes known as going with the Tao, and learning to live or to be in complete harmony with the Universe should mean enjoying a genuinely peaceful life.

It is an interesting challenge, this living in the present. This Being. This Being At One with the Universe. In spite of my best efforts I have discovered only a few moments during which I have been able to simply BE, and when those perfect moments did emerge, they seemed exceedingly brief. I fear the unfortunate but probable reality is that this pattern will continue - making it difficult to envision just how what should be could, in fact, ever become fully realized. Occasionally, yes. Constantly, far less likely. I'm left to wonder if frequently would be an acceptable path.

Nevertheless, my desire for such moments sometimes presses me to look forward to a future in which they might exist in greater abundance, and therein lies the rub. To look forward moves me out of the present and destroys that which I was hoping to achieve.

Although I am quick to banish such thoughts and return to the present, there is always one thought that persists. It is the recognition that just the effort of trying to stay present-centered may be sufficient to undo my oneness with the Tao. The path, after all, is simply to be. There can be no try. Just being. It is there we find balance and calm. Harmony. Being At One with the Universe.
TGB   

16 April, 2012

{this moment} 47

A Monday ritual. A single image - no words - capturing a moment from the past - sometimes a place with many moments - but somewhere along my life's Journey over which I wish to linger and savor each treasured aspect of the memories it evokes. If you are moved or intrigued by my {this moment}, please leave a comment. On Thursday in a companion ritual called {this memory}, I'll share the story of this moment.
{this moment}
Copyright © 2012 Thomas G. Brown

{this moment} is a ritual copied and adapted from cath's wonderful blog ~just my thoughts. She, in turn, borrowed it from Pamanner's Blog. Check out their blogs, and if you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your {this moment} in the comments for each of us to find and see.
TGB   

15 April, 2012

Where Did We Come From?

A little girl asked her mother, "How did the human race appear?" The mother answered, "First, God made Adam and Eve. Then they had children, and that's how all mankind was made."

Two days later the girl asked her father the same question.

The father answered, "Many years ago there were monkeys, and the human race evolved from them."

The confused girl returned to her mother and said, "Mom, how is it possible that you told me the human race was created by God and Dad said they developed from monkeys?"

The mother answered, "Well, dear, it is very simple. I told you about my side of the family, and your father told you about his."
Author Unknown   

14 April, 2012

Tree

Almost every day I photograph this tree near my office window - always from the same angle, the same zoom, and about the same time of day. This is my favorite image from the past week.
TGB   

Copyright © 2012 Thomas G. Brown

To view a video set to music that contains 135 images taken over 12 months, click here.

For the 2010 collection of images, click here.
For the 2011 collection of images, click here.
For the 2012 collection of images, click here.

13 April, 2012

{poetically plagiarized} 2: Dickinson

There Is Another Sky

there is another sky
ever serene and fair,
and there is another sunshine,
tho' it be darkness there -
never mind faded forests, Austin,
never mind silent fields -
here is a little forest
whose leaf is ever green -
here is a brighter garden -
where not a frost has been,
in its unfading flowers
I hear the bright bee hum,
prithee, my Brother,
into my garden come!

Emily Dickinson, 1850

This was only the second poem she wrote; she was about 20. Although most discover in it references to a heaven and life after death (perhaps Newton's) or note the mention of her brother, I see other meaning. I find themes of hope and optimism, that no matter how bleak, things will get better. Be of good cheer and receptive to the future.
TGB

12 April, 2012

{this memory} 46

This is the story behind last Monday's {this moment}.

You're in Italy - near Florence, to be precise. You're in Trattoria Omero, a wonderful restaurant in Arcetri deep in the Florence suburbs. Eccezionale!

My older daughter and I lingered there over a nearly three hour lunch, not 10 meters from Galileo's villa across the street. The drop dead gorgeous view of the Tuscan hillside was out the window beside our table. Wow!

Galileo was the real reason I was there, but I never let a bit of work be all work. We had arrived by train from Paris and would soon be off again heading north. When I recommended the place to an old high school friend who lived in Florence for a few years, she confessed to eating there on several occasions - although she was forced to share the restaurant with Pavarotti once. Tough duty.

So many wonderful memories - I am a fortunate man.
TGB

11 April, 2012

My Lady Wears White

I love my car. It's a 1990 Miata "A" package powered by a massive 98 cubic inch Japanese dual overhead cam inline 4 cylinder engine with muti-port electronic fuel injection and generating a whopping 116 horses.

Okay - not so much muscle, but it does go zoom. 0-60 in 9.4 seconds and a top speed of 119 mph. And that gas tank - wow! She holds every ounce of 11.9 gallons which she sips at the rate of about 30 miles per gallon on the highway. Even if you did manage to run out of gas, she's so light that you can just pick the car up and carry it. Pure green muscle, what there is of it!!!

My gal and I are about to have an anniversary - our 19th. I bought her on Mr. Jefferson's birthday in 1993. She was already four years old. So far, she's amassed a bit over 40,000 miles - not bad for a 23 year old car (a 1990 model but built in 1989).

Everyone should have one, but I have an number of colleagues who have purchased Prius models instead. Gold. Green. Black. I think I saw a blue one too. La-dee-dah. La-dee-dah. Let's compare. How does my white "Princess Leia" Miata compare with, say, the evil black "Luke, I am your father" Prius I see in the Faculty Center parking lot? Very well, it seems - although we'll have to ignore that electric motor stuff.


Okay - your wheels are larger: Miata 14" - Prius 15" but you're heavy: Miata a tad over 2100 pounds - Prius over 3000 pounds. The Miata has more legroom 42.7" vs. 42.5 in the Prius. Headroom? The Prius has 38.6" and Miata 37.1". Oh, wait, ... headroom in a convertible is infinite, isn't it? I forgot.

Miata 3.6 cu.ft. in trunk, Prius 21.6 cu.ft. That's a real difference, but the Miata is a convertible. Do I repeat myself? Prius seats 5. The Miata seats 2, but - oh yeah - it's a convertible.

With a 1.8 L. displacement, the Prius engine is larger than the Miata's 1.6 L. engine. Other than that they're very similar - except the Miata cranks out 116 horses. The Prius? 98. And given the weight difference ... that's why Miata goes zoom.

Gas tanks are the same at 11.9 gallons - so the Prius will go further at 50 mpg than the Miata at 30 mpg. But ... the Miata goes zoom. AND it's a convertible. With a longer wheelbase and greater width and length overall, the Prius needs a larger parking space than the Miata, but it would be better off-road since its ground clearance is 0.9 in. greater. Um, who would go off-road in a Prius?! Prissy starts with Pri ... too.

Of course, a new Prius costs twice as much as my Miata did when it was new, and the Prius is everywhere. They produced only 45,000 units of my Miata. The latest Prius production run will be ten times that many cars.

Give me my Miata, please. It's not evil. And it goes zoom. AND it's a convertible.
TGB   

10 April, 2012

Celtic Blessings

A few weeks ago one of my daughters emailed this to me which she described as a "nice Celtic blessing from our chaplain this week." I liked it, but it struck me more as Native American than Celtic.

          May the Peace of the Running Water be with you.
          May the Peace of the Deep Forest be with you.
          May the Peace of the Flowers be with you.
          May the Peace of the Child’s Laughter be with you.
          May the Peace of the Open Fire be with you.
          May the Peace of the Deep Silence be with you.


Since she was in Colorado, my suspicion was even stronger. I read it again recently though, and ever more curious about possible sources, I began to exercise my Googleability. Searching for Celtic prayers, I came across these two - either of which could be a forerunner of what my daughter had heard and then sent me.

Deep Peace to You

          Deep peace of the running wave to you.
          Deep peace of the flowing air to you.
          Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.
          Deep peace of the shining stars to you.
          Deep peace of the infinite peace to you.

                        - Adapted from ancient Gaelic runes

Deep Peace to You 
(Healing Version)
Healing Blessing

Alan Dall, the blind poet, put upon the Amadan this eolas of healing,
touching the brow and the heart as he said "here" and "here" in Lines 2 and 3.

          Deep peace I breathe into you,
              O weariness, here:
              O ache, here!
          Deep peace, a soft white dove to you;
          Deep peace, a quiet rain to you;
          Deep peace, an ebbing wave to you!
          Deep peace, red wind of the east from you;
          Deep peace, grey wind of the west to you;
          Deep peace, dark wind of the north from you;
          Deep peace, blue wind of the south to you!
          Deep peace, pure red of the flame to you;
          Deep peace, pure white of the moon to you;
          Deep peace, pure green of the grass to you;
          Deep peace, pure brown of the earth to you;
          Deep peace, pure grey of the dew to you,
          Deep peace, pure blue of the sky to you!
          Deep peace of the running wave to you,
          Deep peace of the flowing air to you,
          Deep peace of the quiet earth to you,
          Deep peace of the sleeping stones to you!
          Deep peace of the Yellow Shepherd to you,
          Deep peace of the Wandering Shepherdess to you,
          Deep peace of the Flock of Stars to you,
          Deep peace of the Son of Peace to you,
          Deep peace of the heart of Mary to you.


So ... your choice. You can't go wrong - each is a wonderful sentiment, and I bid you such peace. But especially, may the peace of the child’s laughter be with you.
TGB  

09 April, 2012

{this moment} 46

A Monday ritual. A single image - no words - capturing a moment from the past - sometimes a place with many moments - but somewhere along my life's Journey over which I wish to linger and savor each treasured aspect of the memories it evokes. If you are moved or intrigued by my {this moment}, please leave a comment. On Thursday in a companion ritual called {this memory}, I'll share the story of this moment.
{this moment}
Copyright © 2012 Thomas G. Brown

{this moment} is a ritual copied and adapted from cath's wonderful blog ~just my thoughts. She, in turn, borrowed it from Pamanner's Blog. Check out their blogs, and if you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your {this moment} in the comments for each of us to find and see.
TGB   

08 April, 2012

In Ireland


In a Convent in Ireland the 98-year-old Mother Superior lay dying. The nuns gathered around her bed, trying to make her last journey comfortable.

They tried giving her warm milk to drink, but she refused it. One of the nuns took the glass back to the kitchen.

Then, remembering a bottle of Irish Whiskey that had been received as a gift the previous Christmas, she opened it and poured a generous amount into the warm milk.

Back at Mother Superior's bed, they held the glass to her lips. The frail nun drank a little, then a little more and before they knew it, she had finished the whole glass down to the last drop.

As her eyes brightened, the nuns thought it would be a good opportunity to have one last talk with their spiritual leader. "Mother," the nuns asked earnestly, "Please give us some of your wisdom before you leave us."

She raised herself up in bed on one elbow, looked at them and said, "Don't sell that cow!"
Author Unknown   

07 April, 2012

Tree

Almost every day I photograph this tree near my office window - always from the same angle, the same zoom, and about the same time of day. This is my favorite image from the past week.
TGB   

Copyright © 2012 Thomas G. Brown

To view a video set to music that contains 135 images taken over 12 months, click here.

For the 2010 collection of images, click here.
For the 2011 collection of images, click here.
For the 2012 collection of images, click here.

06 April, 2012

Poetically Growing

On Day 20 the poetry challenge continued. I was to write a poem that included three related objects (e.g. water, steam, ice) or actions (e.g. walking, jogging, running). I wanted also to try my hand at a specific poetic form and selected haiku. With the Mighty Finn in mind, this is what emerged.

          The child, once sitting,
          Eager to reach by standing,
          Like wind, now runs free.


It doesn't feel right to me. I want to add a few syllables, but that would take it out of the haiku form, perhaps. When I revisit it in the future, I'll revise it with a mind toward free verse. I do like the concept that is developing.
TGB   

05 April, 2012

{this memory} 45

This is the story behind last Monday's {this moment}.

You're in New York - Oneida, to be precise. You're in the kitchen of an old farmhouse I owned from the mid-70s to the mid-80s. The young lady in the picture is my older daughter, and she's about three months old. She's a mom herself now - as my readers know - the mother of the Mighty Finn who is not yet two months old.

Also in the picture is a gingerbread house I made for Christmas that year. It's a little bare - just the gingerbread glued with royal icing. The shingles are Keebler's Deluxe Grahams dusted with powdered sugar. Pretty basic - but it is all hand-made, and I did illuminate it from inside.

I still love Christmas - though it has been a while since my last gingerbread house. This year I think I'll need to go all out. The Mighty Finn will expect no less, I'm sure. He's certain to bring out the best in me.

So many wonderful memories - I am a fortunate man.
TGB

04 April, 2012

Jazz Hands - Mighty Finn Style

More about my grandson, the Mighty Finn. Get used to it, I guess.


Okay - let's start with the disclaimers. First, he's swinging so most of these are a bit blurry. I could have used the flash, but he doesn't like it.


Second, he sometimes accidentally scratches himself so he has on some little mittens. It's not a dance costume.


And third, he doesn't really know what he's doing. He likes music and his arms are flailing, but there's not much connection between the two. It's pretty random. Maybe it should be jazz arms rather than jazz hands.


As soon as he knows what he's doing, I'm teaching him to do Y-M-C-A. He's a natural and already has the Y.
TGB   

03 April, 2012

Beatitudes For Those With Disability

This photo and story have been making the rounds on facebook of late. It reminded me of my post from about a year ago, which I repeat below the story.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I don't normally vent on here but I have to say something about how Alex was treated at his chorus concert tonight. First of all for those of you that don't know Alex has Cerebral Palsy and is in a wheel chair. I try to make sure that he is included in activities at school like chorus, and he love's it and gets so excited when he gets to go to special events. Tonight we go to a special event including several other schools where the kids all sing with their class's. So first we get there and their is no access for him to sit with his class mates because it is in the old gym and their is no wheel chair access. Then they call his school up to sing so Alex wheels his self up to the portable risers and waits on the side for Mr Graffstead to come and position him with the rest of the class...Well he never does!!! Next thing I know is the class starts singing and Alex is all by him self on the side of the risers like a spectator! The teacher has not even acknowledged him as part of the chorus...at this point I am soo mad that I can't see straight, if I thought that Alex wouldn't have been embarrassed I would have taken matters into my own hands.. But being the mother I am I don't want him to feel any different than the other kids...HA!!! SO they get finished and the teacher rises his hands and motions to the other children like here is the chorus and thank you...all the while Alex is by him self not even treated like he belongs!! I am soo mad at how the teacher didn't even think of Alex. As the teacher walks over my anger finally overtakes me and I walk up to Mr Grafstead and tell him that I have a big problem in the way he conducted the chorus and that he and the school will be hearing from me. I am attaching a photo so everyone can see just how isolated he was from the others... This is truly a travesty for the school system , I thought that my child was being treated equally all this time and he was not. Please think of all the kids and adults out there that deal with this kind of indifference. My heart is broken up over this and i hope I never have to witness this kind of neglect again!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I have tried to learn something about the author to whom these are attributed but have been unsuccessful. Nor I have been able to find where they were originally published. If any of you know, dear Readers, please let me know.

I suspect the first six represent Chappell's original work since they use "you" as the object and the sixth is a summation. The remainder are attributed to her, but I think they may have another author. The next six use "those" as the object and have a slightly different construction. The thirteenth resembles none of the first twelve. You decide.

Regardless of authorship, each of these characterizes the way the world ought to be but usually isn't. I've added two more that I came across in my search, but I'm not sure they are as well done as the earlier ones.
TGB   

Blessed are you that never bids us "hurry up" and more blessed are you that do not snatch our tasks from our hands to do them for us, for often we need time rather than help.

Blessed are you who take time to listen to defective speech, for you help us to know that if we persevere, we can be understood.

Blessed are you who walk with us in public places and ignore the stares of strangers, for in your companionship we find havens of relaxation.

Blessed are you who stand beside us as we enter new ventures, for our failures will be outweighed by the times we surprise ourselves and you.

Blessed are you who ask for our help, for our greatest need is to be needed.

Blessed are you when by all these things, you assure us that the thing that makes us individuals is not our peculiar muscles, nor our wounded nervous system, but is the God-given self that no infirmity can confine.

Blessed are those who realize that I am human and don't expect me to be saintly just because I am disabled.

Blessed are those who pick things up without being asked.

Blessed are those who understand that sometimes I am weak and not just lazy.

Blessed are those who forget my disability of the body and see the shape of my soul.

Blessed are those who see me as a whole person, unique and complete, and not as a "half" and one of God's mistakes.

Blessed are those who love me just as I am without wondering what I might have been like.

Blessed are my friends on whom I depend, for they are the substance and joy of my life.

Marjorie Chappell        

Blessed are those who resist the need to tell me I'm not saintly, for I'm well aware of that.

Blessed are those who compliment me honestly, for they neither pity me nor feel the need to stroke my ego pointlessly.

Anonymous        

02 April, 2012

{this moment} 45

A Monday ritual. A single image - no words - capturing a moment from the past - sometimes a place with many moments - but somewhere along my life's Journey over which I wish to linger and savor each treasured aspect of the memories it evokes. If you are moved or intrigued by my {this moment}, please leave a comment. On Thursday in a companion ritual called {this memory}, I'll share the story of this moment.
{this moment}
Copyright © 2012 Thomas G. Brown

{this moment} is a ritual copied and adapted from cath's wonderful blog ~just my thoughts. She, in turn, borrowed it from Pamanner's Blog. Check out their blogs, and if you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your {this moment} in the comments for each of us to find and see.
TGB   

01 April, 2012

The Stray Dog

Reverend Rorie was walking down the street when he came upon a group of about a dozen boys, all of them between 10 and 12 years of age. The group had surrounded a dog.

Concerned that the boys were hurting the dog, he went over and asked, "What are you young fellows doing with that poor dog?"

One of the boys replied, "This dog is just an old neighborhood stray. We all want him, but only one of us can take him home. So we've decided that whichever one of us can tell the biggest lie will get to keep the dog."

Of course, the reverend was taken aback. "You boys shouldn't be having a contest telling lies!" he exclaimed. He then launched into a ten minute sermon against lying, beginning with "Don't you boys know it's a sin to lie," and ending with "Why, when I was your age, I never told a lie."

There was dead silence for about a minute, and then, just as the reverend was beginning to think he'd gotten through to them, the smallest boy gave a deep sigh and said, "Oh, all right, give him the dog."
Author Unknown