Main Blog -Home of dragonflyfilly ~~~~~~~~~~~~ FLAMINGO'S HIDEAWAY

Can't concentrate...so just a nice photo of "Paradise"

2010-03-19T18:31:00.003-07:00

...so read post below...

dreaming of Paradise

2010-03-01T18:17:00.004-08:00

...so now i have to try to refresh my memory...

...We arrived at Kahului Airport (after a long long flight because we had a layover of 4 hours in LA) around 6:00 ish and it was already getting dark...as most of you know it gets dark early in Hawaii...since we only had carry-on luggage we were able to get a shuttle directly to the car-rental place. About 1/2 an hour later we were on our way. Because it had been quite a few years since my last visit i did not recognize the turn-off and were heading towards Kihei when we realized we were on the wrong road. We back tracked and got onto the right road. Entering Lahaina we decided to hit Walgreins (?? - i think it was),for the special sun-screen that my friend wanted, then SafeWay for food supplies. So it was quite late when we finally staggered into the lobby of the beautiful Ka'anapali Shores Beach Resort

(oh, we missed the turnoff there also and ended up in Honokowai before we found a safe place to turn around. We were exhausted when we finally got to our room, but we managed to get the food into the fridge, and unpack our bags. Then we lay down on our beds.
BLISSS, utter heavenly mattresses...I felt like i was sleeping on a cloud (well, as i would imagine a cloud to feel, since i have never actually slept on one, at least in THIS life-time!! Hah hah!)

...to be continued...

ALOHA!

2010-02-23T13:43:00.005-08:00

Self-portrait?

FINALLY, a new post (brief) as i am watching a few of the Olympic entries (Snow Cross, Speed Skating, Luge etc)...and, while i do not support the extragant spending on some of the venues, publicity (own the podium, what rot!), the so-called "free" events (we will be paying for those for years to come), I do appreciate the effort of the olympians themselves...too bad big corporate sharks have to give it such a bad flavour...and that is all the ranting i am going to do...just two photos (for now - more to follow) of my fab Hawaiian Holiday in November...

...under my umbrella beside the pool...

has "Fall" finally arrived?

2009-09-09T17:15:00.005-07:00

With windy days,...and ...
and most of my canning done...

...this little critter is also busy stocking up for winter, and i have to go out and look for some firewood...

not much to blog about...so...

2009-04-15T01:38:00.003-07:00

...i'll just put up a couple of photos i took lately...

my winter project

2008-11-14T14:21:00.009-08:00

...having trouble getting these photos where i want them...but you get the picture, so to speak...

~~ almost done ~~

~~Miss Kitty helping me interpret The Instructions~~

~~bits and pieces;
what goes where!!~~

~~the finished project~~

i had this unassembled chef's table hanging about the place taking up space for about seven or eight years (maybe more, i just don't rightly remember)...anyway, it took me about 4 or 5 EXHAUSTING days to put it all together and then put a coat of varnish on it. But i am really pleased with the result. [photos by pj]

November 11 - "LEST WE FORGET"

2008-11-10T14:45:00.004-08:00

On November 9 at the Tricycle website The karmaqueen@tricycle.com asked: "Are we responsible for the President we’ve got even if we voted against him? Do we bear some karmic burden for the war in Iraq just by virtue of being Americans? Is there some sort of karmic swap we can make so we can continue to drive our SUV’S in good conscience?"

The last question is easy for me to answer as I do not think that karma is negotiable, so no, if you know or think that driving an SUV is somehow not a good thing, then continueing to do so will undoubtedly “put you in the red” as far as what I like to call, your “Karma Account”.

Where Mr. Bush and the Presidency is concerned, this is a little more complicated for me. I have long felt that the history of war-mongering in the United States would one day come back to “bite” the American’s “in the bum”, and so it has.

Unfortunately whether or not you voted for Mr. Bush does not mean that you are “innocent” in the overall scheme of things. “Not all Karmas rebound immediately. Some accumulate and return unexpectedly in this or other births.” [ Satguru Sivaya Subramuniyaswami – Dancing with Siva]

As tragic as it was, I do believe that the devastation of the twin towers on 9/11 was a direct karmic consequence of the years of mindless slaughter of innocent women and children, by the US government and her agents, and in turn, the “terrorists” will themselves accumulate negative karma due to their actions. I compare Mr. Bush to The Stupid Husband, who makes bad decisions and forces his wife and children (the people of the United States) to suffer the consequences. He continues to compound negative karma upon negative karma, and so it goes.

No one is innocent: if we are born onto this planet it is for a reason.

Also I would like to remind some people that Hitler proclaimed that God was on his side when he ordered the mass-murders of millions of people. And so, each megalomaniacal dictator in his time declared that the Almighty has condoned their slaughter. And his armies have marched mindlessly to their deaths, only to be re-born into another minefield of negative karma. The bombs of bloody karma and the shrapnel of stupidity continue to blow to bits the young bodies of “innocent” sons and daughters of helpless mothers.

We forgot that we are the government. We control the protectors of our state by our votes. We control corporate America and Canada by our willingness to buy the products that they produce. If only we could understand that we do control our destinies, just as we control our appetites for material possessions and “creature comforts”, and our desire for numbing pleasures.

Not until everyone understands the nature of Karma, and its irrevocable influence, not until then will there be Peace on Earth. Even a little new born Child knows that.

NOW, today, November 10, there is a new Star on the Rise...a New Man for a New Era...and we are optimistic...yet we cannot be complacent...while we forgive, we must not forget.

~~ nameste

now maybe i can change my tune

2008-11-05T01:30:00.005-08:00

CONGRATULATIONS America!! - maybe now I can "change my tune" from "...I'm afraid of Americans" to....well, i don't know right now, i am so excited and pleased and releaved all at once...but anyway, maybe it IS finally really the dawning of the age of Aquarius or something just as great!!! all i can say right now is YIPPEE! - i am so happy that America voted for the Right President!

...and remember the Covenant...and the Promise?...so here's to new beginnings, great new beginnings symbolized by the majesty of the Rainbow....

[photo by pj - copyright protected, contact me before you reproduce it]

cheers all,
love and light,
pj

"our" summer reading

2008-07-30T13:39:00.004-07:00

Just started this book, and already it makes so much sence, but i am a slow reader, and I have so many other things to do this month.....here is just a small sample from the Introduction.

"Considering others when pursuing our own happiness leads us to what I call "wise self-interest," which hopefully will transform itself into "compromised self-interest" or better still, "mutual interest." Some people think that cultivating compassion is good for others but not necessarily for themselves, but this is wrong. You are the one who benefits most directly since compassion immediately instills in you a sense of calm (nowadays medical researchers have shown in scientitic studies that a calm mind is essential for good health), inner strength, and a deep conficence and satisfaction, whereas it is not certain that the object of your feeling of compassion will benefit. Love and compassion open our own inner life, reducing stress, distrust, and loneliness. I quite agree with a Western doctor who recently told me that those people who often use the words I, my, and me are at greater risk of having a heart attack. When, because of self-centeredness, your view is narrowed to yourself, even a small problem will seem unbearable.

Although increasing interdependence among nations might be expected to generate more cooperation, it is difficult to achieve a spirit of genuine cooperation as long as people remain indifferent to the feelings and happiness of others. When people are motivated mostly by greed and jealousy, it is not possible for them to live in harmony. A spiritual approach may not provide an overnight solution to all the political problems caused by our present self-centered approach, but in the long run it will address the very basis of the problms that we face today, removing them at the root.

The world is becoming smaller now, to the degree that all parts of the world are obviously part of yourself. Thus, destruction of your enemy is destruction of yourself. The very concept of war is outdated. If the twentieth century was the century of bloodshed, the twenty-first has to be the century of dialogue.

If humankind continues to approach its problems from the perspective of temporary expediency, future generations will face tremendous difficulties. Global population is increasing, and our resources are being rapidly depleted. Consider the ruinous effects of massive deforestation on the climate, the soil, and the global ecology as a whole. We are facing calamity because, guided by expediency and selfish interests, and not thinking of the entire family of living beings, we are not taking into account the earth and the long-term needs of life itself. If we do not think about these issues now, future generations may not be able to cope with them."

- His Holiness the Dalai Lama 2006

Remembering Karen ~ 1858 - 2006

2008-06-19T11:56:00.003-07:00

I woke up this morning thinking about my friend Karen; I could not remember the date of her death, so came to Blogspot and checked my post's index, because I felt like republishing it.

So, Karen, this is for you my friend; you are in my thoughts today.

APRIL 8TH, 2006
My Lone Memorial to Karen (1958 – 2006)

I shed a tear or two for my dear lost lost friend, who died on April 2nd . Cause of death “lifestyle choices”. Karen, sweet, highly intelligent, talented, energetic, funny and charming, witty and wild, strong but weak, determined but scattered….what was the demon that led her to her self-distruction…I may never know…she never could tell me…i'm having trouble crying because her life was so miserable...but...
Karen, I could not love you enough to save you from yourself.

When I first met you it felt like you were a long lost sister, or a child I had never had, the connection was instant and strong. We bonded in the very first second of our meeting. I imagined that you were my twin, separated from me at birth (oh my god, my body shudders at the memory, and I wonder if you are part of my soul group , and if I am going to die in a few days, or weeks, months, as members of the same soul groups do);…and I weep…oh god oh god oh god…I can feel your spirit hovering over me…and I understand the strange dreams of the past few days…and my unwillingness to record them…

Karen, You compelled me to do crazy things , self- distructive things…I was helpless - mesmorized by the spell that you cast over me …I still cannot fathom it…and so we had to part…while I could not be with you in physical time, I always carried you in my heart!

“It’s just three miles to the river that would carry me away… two miles to the dusty street that I saw you on today , four miles to my lonely room where I will hide my face, and half a mile to the downtown bar that I ran from in disgrace…. Lord, how long am I going to keep on running? 7 hours 7 days or 7 years?...All I know is, since you’ve been gone I’ve been drowing, drowning, feel like I’m drowning in a river of tears.

…Three more days ‘till I leave this town and disappear without a trace. A year from now maybe settle down where no one knows my face, I wish that I could hold you one more time to ease the pain but my time’s run out and I”ve got to go, got to run away again.

…Still I catch myself thinking one day I’ll find my way back here and you’ll save me from drowning, drowning in a river of tears. Oh how long must it go on?...” – as i was typing, Eric Clapton’s Drowning in a River of Tears started playing, and NOW the enormity of all this strikes me, and my body is wracked with grief...i cry and cry and cry...until i am worn out, my head is sore and my eyes are red and puffy...ugh! I DO miss you, Karen, my friend, but I could not save you….and no words can express how much pain that gives me.

“…hidden in secret heart are soul-deep scars
That cry out for heaven’s stars.” (from a poem written for me in 1974

The Canadian Problem: Restructing the Relationship Between the Indigenous People and Non-Indigenous People of Canada

2008-03-25T17:57:00.007-07:00

First Published in 1997 (by pj)

INTRODUCTION
1997 - Fifteen years ago a Commission of Inquiry into Aboriginal Rights and the Constitution of Canada was established by the Ontario Metis and Non-Status Indian Association and a newly appointed Provincial Secretary for Resource Development, Mr. R.H. Ramsay, pledged his support at the Grand Assembly held that March. In 1996 the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples published their report, but still, after all this time, while the courts continue to grapple with the interpretive difficulties of the treaties, children are being born into sub-standard living conditions, and valuable resources are increasingly exploited. As Langara College students loudly protest inhumane conditions in third world countries, Canada’s Indigenous people are still fighting against discriminatory practices that exclude them from enjoying a fair share of the wealth of this country.

The following report is a cursory look at how the policies of representatives of the Canadian government have contributed to what is perceived as the “Indian Problem”. The writer of this report will also attempt to come to some understanding of why some Canadians perceive First Nations people as “a problem”.

The question is, in what ways has the Federal Government’s policies for the First Nations People in Canada contributed to racism against Aboriginal people. The hypothesis of this report is that racism is at the heart of the Land Claims Issues, and is a diversionary tactic used to prevent the revitalization of treaties and land claims.

DEFINING THE “INDIAN PROBLEM”
What is the “Indian problem”, and how did it come to be? Frideres, in Canada’s Indians: Contemporary Conflicts says: “The situation is usually defined as an Indian problem and, generally is couched in an individualistic framework. Solutions offered are based on this perspective. In my view, it can be a white problem” (1974, p.xvii).

The way in which the “Indian problem” started out was in “the problem of controlling Indians” (Frideres, 1974, p.4), and even though “the French were attempting to ‘exploit’ the land and continue the ‘pseudo-colonization’ of North America” (p.5), they did not intend to settle in Canada. “The initial relationship of the French to the Indians can best be described as one of total dependency, but this soon changed to a ‘symbiotic’ one” (Frideres, p5), when war broke out between the English and the French. What has started out as a system of bartering (maintaining a favourable balance of trade was important to France), eventually evolved into one of dominance and exploitation. In fact,

“In general, the policy toward native people by the
dominant groups has been two-sided. It publicly proclaimed
‘respect for native people’s rights’, while privately denying them any rights, such as to vote and choose their ‘reserve’. (1974, p.5); as cited in Anderson and Wright, 1971; and Washburn,
(1965)

Claims to land is at the heart of the so-called “Indian problem”. Certainly the way in which they have been handled in the past, and continue to be handled, can only be seen as racist. The attitude toward the Indigenous people (of North America as a whole and Canada in particular) has deeply ingrained historical origins, as reflected in the following quote by Frideres. He writes: “…when Indians[sic] attacked a white village or fort and won, it was called a massacre, while if whites[sic] attacked an Indian village and won, it was described as a victory” (1974, xv). It is important to elaborate by expanding this quote:

“In the past, empowered groups have been able to define
history and provide an explanation of the present. A good
example is the portrayal of wars between Indians[sic] by
Canadian historians. Part of this bias in the recording of
events is because Western civilization is based upon an
‘enemy concept’…Since the dominant group is able to make
these interpretations and definitions, they are also able to keep
others from initiating alternative explanations and definitions. (Frideres, 1974, xv)

The understanding of how deeply rooted this “white” concept of aboriginal people is in the Canadian psyche is important because this bias has caused the perpetuation of the notion of all the negative attributes that aboriginal people have had to endure. In addition, in the preface of his book Canada’s Indians: Contemporary Conflicts, Frideres writes:

“To feel that they are self-sufficient is a healthy attitude, but
to reject out of hand any help by any outside group is foolish
and will result in continued subjugation…Indians[sic] are not
in a position to reject all outside help”. (1974, xii)

Now, while this researcher feels that Frideres is well intentioned, indeed he states in his introduction that “The economic and social status of the Canadian Indian[sic] is one of abject poverty” (1974,xiii), he adds that the assistance that has been provided to them by the “empowered groups has (1) an explicit “warship” orientation, and (2) has been so minimal that it has been completely negligible, and that “both factors have been based on a single ideology – racism” (Frideres, 1974, p.xiii). But having said this, he still maintains that Canada’s Indigenous people are not in a position to reject outside help. Frideres, even in his attempt to do the “right thing”, still has the remnants of chauvinism. But, all this aside, obviously his words have gone unheeded. It is ironic to read now, with the knowledge of the burgeoning numbers of homeless people, and long line-ups at half-empty Food Banks, what he wrote so long ago. This is what he says: “People in Canada should not be allowed to go hungry, or be uneducated. We are a nation of plenty – but only those who support the empowered groups will benefit in the harvest” (1974, xv).

Again his intentions are good, but unfortunately his perception is skewed. He claims that his aim is to give the student a new perspective, and that rather than viewing the problem as an Indian[sic] problem, perhaps it should be viewed as a white problem. As previously quoted in this report he writes: “The situation is usually defined as an Indian[sic] problem...In my view it can be a white problem (although that does not exclude Indians[sic] from some “house cleaning”). To view Indian-white relations from an individualistic perspective will not provide solutions, for example, to integrating Native people into the larger society” (Frideres, 1974, xvii).

I cannot begin to imagine why Frideres thinks the "indians" are responsible for this “house cleaning” [or in fact, in 1974 - the time of Frideres book, how they were capable of so doing!]

It seems presumptuous to assume that all Indigenous people want to be, or even need to be, integrated into the larger society. In fact, in a report on the impact of residential schools on Native people as a whole, Hodgson relates a story from the Maoris in New Zealand. It tells about a shark and a mackerel and assimilation. The story is about the shark who was swimming through the new ocean he had discovered, and he meets dinner, the mackerel, and

“Just before he was going to swallow the mackerel, the shark said,
‘Let’s assimilate!’ Now whose perception do we look at? Do we look
at it from the shark’s or the mackerel’s perception? Of course the
shark thinks he is doing the mackerel a favour because he will provide
him with a nice warm stomach to swim around in and certainly things will
be better for him in there. From the mackerel’s perception he will think
if it is at all possible I do not want to end up as part of that shark, I am a
mackerel and free…I intend on remaining free." (Hodgson, 1991, p.2)

The point of relating this story is that integration has not only failed, in its failure it has damaged a major portion of the Canadian population. Integration has failed because it was foisted upon the aboriginal people, and when addressing the issue of integration, Hodgson says:

“It’s our choice. Some native people make the same choice when
They choose to see the treaties and the residential schools as good
experiences and empowering ones. Or do we look at those policies
from the perception of the people who experienced abuse in residential
schools?” (1991, p.2)

The residential schools were clearly an attempt to assimilate Native people into the larger society for one reason only, and that was to lay claim to the land and its resources. Yet there is more than one way to look at these issues. Freedom and choice are things that most Canadians not only take for granted, but that we demand and are entitled to. Yet freedom and choice do not seem to be ideals that have been extended to Canada’s Indigenous people. No one would disagree with Frideres when he says as previously quoted on page 4 of this report that people in Canada should not be allowed to go hungry, or be uneducated, yet statistics show that Native people have been conspicuously neglected in this area.

EDUCATION
The data from Statistics Canada (1961) illustrates that fewer than one percent of Aboriginal children attended university at that time and that “nearly 90 percent of natives have not matriculated” (Frideres, 1974, p.42). Although in “1970, 432 students were enrolled at university…chances of finishing university are still quite small” (p.47) because discrimination, along with language differences, put Native people at a disadvantage to white students (p.47). Native people have generally been portrayed negatively in school text books, and “a recent study on grades 1-8 social studies texts revealed that native people were generally portrayed (if even acknowledged) as savages, evil or non-entities” (Vander-Burgh, 1968). This has a serious impact on the Indians’[sic] personal development” (p.47).

GUTTING THE FISH: GETTING TO THE HEART OF THE LAND CLAIMS ISSUE

In addition, people who do not want to see a change in the status quo intentionally put forward the argument that the way in which aboriginal people say they view land ownership and land use is false.

Brian Crowley, President of the Atlantic Institute for Market Studies, a Halifax-based economic and social policy think tank, maintains that property rights are not an “alien imposition”, as “naïve” supporters of Native rights would have us believe, but that the notion of communal resources is greatly romanticized (1995, pp.58-59). A major point that Crowley overlooks is the distinction between land ownership and land use, as well as property. Land ownership is different from land use, just as property is different from land. Land refers to real estate whereas property refers to movable objects. The distinctions are important. The remainder of this report will touch briefly on some of them.

Crowley puts forward many arguments that attempt to justify why Native land claims should not be taken seriously. Here is a sample of one of them:

“The notion of theft, for example, is inextricably tied to
the notion of property: one cannot steal something that
is not owned…The maker of a birch canoe or buckskin
jacket would have fought to prevent someone’s arbitrarily
appropriating it without his consent…One owns one’s labour
because one owns one’s body and having property in these,
one has property in those things to which one turns one’s
hands. “(1995, p.62)

Ironically, Crowley’s argument works in favour of Indigenous people because on the basis “that one owns that to which one turns one’s hand”, one would have to agree that native people own all the land and all the rivers because those are areas where they have indeed “turned their hands” (p.62). In fact, there is a very strong precedent to support this claim, as Schwindt states: “In the past, Indians[sic] depended heavily on the salmon resource and that dependence was recognized by early policymakers, who guaranteed continued Indian access to the fish” (1995, p.99). And, as far as the idea of theft is concerned, on the basis of Crowley’s argument Aboriginal people can claim that the land was stolen from them, in that “white” settlers robbed them of their ability to use the land. This is where it is important to understand the distinction between land ownership and land use.

Crowley goes into a lengthy explanation of various aspects of traditional Aboriginal cultural values, yet the tone in which he expresses his opinion is unmistakable ethnocentric. Unfortunately for his argument he gives a brief and incomplete description of “West Coast Indian potlatch ceremony”. First of all, it would not be referred to as a “potlatch ceremony”, but simply a potlatch. Secondly, he quotes Campbell (1988, 1910), (1995, p.63), who most certainly would be observing this gathering from a European’s (and possibly Imperialistic) point of view, without benefit of knowledge of the overall significance of such an important function. {see Footnote}

Crowley is way off track when he says “the historical, cultural, and especially economic difference between aboriginals and non-aboriginals on the question of property are much exaggerated” (1995, p.59).

OVERCOMING CULTURAL DIFFERENCES
Most Canadians will need to undergo a re-adjustment in attitude in regard to the way in which Indigenous people are perceived, and were traditionally perceived. For instance Aboriginal fishermen

“…were using fish traps, weirs, night lights and spears long
before the arrival of Europeans on this continent. If the
primary goal is to obtain food with the least amount of effort,
then these are all sensible practices…though they remain
offensive to recreational anglers for whom the thrill of the
catch is part of the sport. There have been various attempts
to reconcile these views…cultural differences are coupled with
another difficulty: the long-standing ethos in resource manage-
ment that perpetuates distinctions between users and managers.
These distinctions become particularly problematic when the
users are Aboriginal and the managers predominantly non-
Aboriginal” (RCAP,1996, P.651)

People fishing for sport will have to realize that their pleasure is secondary to the cultural needs of the Indigenous people of Canada.

When Crowley states that differences between Aboriginal people and non-aboriginal are “much exaggerated” he is wrong. In October 1992, Josephine Sandy of the Ojibwa Tribal Family Services in Kenora wrote:

“Our people have always understood that we must be able to
continue to live our lives in accordance with our culture and
spirituality. Our elders have taught us that this spirit and
intent of our treaty relationships must last as long as the rivers
flow and the sun shines. We must wait however long it takes
for non-Aboriginal people to understand and respect our way
of life. This will be the respect that the treaty relationship
between us calls for.” (RCAP, 1996.p.36)

RESTRUCTURING THE RELATIONSHIP
It is this very spirit and demonstration of goodwill that Crowley, and others like him, need to understand. All Canadians, Aboriginal people and non-Aboriginal people alike, must agree that the renewal process is imperative because when the original treaties were drawn up they were done when Native people did not generally have legal representation (RCAP, 1996, P.51). However, keep in mind that

“Making a treaty does not require the parties to set aside all
their political and legal differences, much less to adopt each
other’s world view. A treaty is a mutual recognition of a common
set of interests by nations that regard themselves as separate
in some fundamental way. Treaty relationships will evolve
organically, but there must be no expectation that one world
view will disappear in the process.” (RCAP, 1996, P.54)

As previously stated, in a country as rich as Canada, no one needs to go hungry or live without adequate shelter, yet is it obvious that this is the case for large numbers of Canada’s Indigenous people because, as far as land and resources are concerned,

“In short, there is no certainty for Aboriginal people in the
current relationship. They are forced to rely on the grace
and favour of government and industry for development
benefits, and governments can create new third-party
interests both before and during negotiations. This is a
fundamental weakness of their submissions to the
Commission.” (RCAP, 1996, p.683)

But perhaps before any restructuring can take place we need to come to a better understanding of just what the problem is. Richards (1995) makes an interesting distinction between contemporary racism and past racism, and states: “past decisions of governments and past attitudes among non-aboriginals have bequeathed a serious legacy of bitterness among many aboriginals toward ‘white’ society. If not racism, what does explain the severity of aboriginal social problems?” (Richards, 1995 p.153).

SUMMARY
I agree with Richards, who writes: “At some point, the arguments of those worried about the extent to which aboriginals receive income via transfers, as opposed to employment, become valid” (p.160). He believes that transfer programs have become part of the explanation, not the solution for “aboriginal poverty”. He further notes that

“Whether they be aboriginals or not, the psychological effect
on people from long-term dependence on transfer income is
damaging…Among men, particularly, long-term welfare induces
a loss of self-respect, increased rates of depression, and a
tendency toward self-destructive activities (such as substance
abuse and family violence)”. (1995, p.161)

He also says that “restoring aboriginal in-river fishing rights could both generate traditional native employment and improve the efficiency of the fishery” (p.154). So why has this not been done?

It is my opinion that honouring the treaties is fundamental when it comes to demonstrating that the Canadian government is not discriminating against the Indigenous people of Canada. Unfortunately, to bring about justice and equality there will have to be losses on one side to bring about gains on the other (but the gains will far outweigh the losses), and if the Canadian people can exercise as much goodwill and integrity as people like Josephine Sandy, then perhaps we will see a peaceful conclusion to these issues.

REFERENCES
*Benedict, R.(1959). The Northwest coast of America. In Patterns of Culture (pp.173-277).Boston, MASS: Houghton Mifflin Company
*CANADA. Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples. RCAP (1996) Report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples Vols.2, Part One, pp.10-104, and Part Two, pp.422-719). Ottawa: Minister of Supply and Services.
*Crowley, B.L. (1995). Property, culture, and Aboriginal self-government. In Market Solutions for Native poverty (pp. 58-97. Toronto, ON: C.D.Howe Institute
*Frideres, J.S. (1974).(pp.xii-58). In Canada’s Indians: Contemporary conflicts.
Scarborough, ON: Prentice-Hall of Canada Ltd.
*Hodgson, M. (1991). Impact of Residential Schools and Other Root Causes of Poor Mental Health. (Special Report). Edmonton, AL: Nechi Institute On Alcohol and Drug Education.
*Richards,J. (1995). A comment. In Drost, H., Crowley, B.L., & Schwindt’s, R. Market solutions for Native poverty (pp.153-165). Toronto, ON: C.D. Howe Institute.

Footnote: There are many reasons for a chief to have a potlatch (not simply to display his wealth as suggested by Crowley). Marriage, the birth of a first child, coming-of-age of a child, or “an inter-tribal challenge to a rival chief” (Benedict, 1959, p.185) were some good reasons for a potlatch. The significance of the destruction of property is grossly misunderstood by some “whites”. As Benedict points out “these actions were necessary ‘cultural checks’ upon too despotic an interpretation of a chief’s role. He was not free to destroy property to the utter impoverishment of his people or to engage in contests which were ruinous to them” (p.195). Potlatches were not only important to the cultural life of Indigenous people but were an integral feature in the redistribution of wealth.

The Medicine Wheel, "Uniting Human Spirituality"Artwork by Ti:lelem Spath, printed with his permission and gifted to all who attended a series of anti-racism workshops. "Blue symbolizes the sky and waters of our planet, green the forests. Red, yellow, white and black represent the four races"

Pele, Goddess of Hawaii's Volcanoes

2008-03-10T13:15:00.006-07:00

[Lithograph from the original oil painting by Hawaiian artist Herb Kawainui Kane]

Burning Times

In the cool of the evening they used to gather
'Neath the stars in the meadow, circle round an old oak tree
At the times appointed by the seasons of the earth
And the phases of the moon.

In the centre often stood a woman, equal with the others and respected for her worth one of the many they call the witches.

The healers and the teachers of the wisdom of the earth.

And the people grew in the knowledge she gave them
Come to heal their bodies and to make their spirits whole.
Hear them chanting, healing incantations, calling for the wise one celebrating in dance and song

There were those who came to power through domination
They were bonded in their worship of a dead man on a cross.

They sought control of the common people
By demanding allegiance through the church of Rome.

And the pope declared the inquisition
It was a war against the women whose powers they feared.

In this Haulacaust against the Nature People nine million European women died.

But the tale is told though by the hundreds holding together chose their deaths in the sea while chanting the praises of the

Mother Goddess

A refusal of betrayal, women were dieing to be free.

The earth is a witch, and the men still burn her!

Stripping her down with their mining and the Poisons Of Their Wars.

Still to us the earth is a healer, a teacher, a mother,
A weaver of the Web of Life that keeps us all alive.

She gives us the vision to see through the chaos
She gives us the courage, it is our will to survive.

- Authour unknown

Here I am at Stonehenge before they put up the barriers.

"she's baaaaack" - feeling better; got my gruntles back

2008-03-01T15:34:00.009-08:00

God Help Us!
Another Fake Mesiah is on the Rise

Just when you think it's safe to come out of your house we have yet another self-appointed Guru selling us his notion of "enlightenment"... don't these guys know that you cannot achieve englightenment by reading a couple of self-help books, or attending a $350 weekend seminar?

Apparently not.

Now Oprah (bless her billion dollar soul) is endorsing this weirdo named Tolle. I saw her show where she encouraged everyone to sign on and get ready for his internet seminars starting in March. Feeling a bit suspicious because of his first name I checked out his website. I was not impressed/convinced. Then about a week later a friend phoned me, all exited, and asked if I had heard of this fellow. I said I had and that it sounded too much like Landmark/EST for MY comfort, and encouraged her to check out the rickross "cult-buster" site before she got involved. I told her that we detach from our ego at our peril, that we need a certain amount of ego attachment to survive in this complex world...but I don't think she "gets it"... and she has not phoned me since then, so i surmise that she was not impressed with rickross. Well, her money, her problem, whatcha gonna do if the "sheep" want to be led to the slaughter?

Highway sign warning of sheep on roads in Canada!

Pitt Polder

2008-02-26T11:38:00.007-08:00

lots of weird dreams last night...this morning i figured out that my discontent is boredom! I am just plain bored with everything...except...birds, sky, clouds, ocean, mountains, trees...well, nature as a whole I guess. I have lost interest in most things unless they pertain to nature...and I am not happy unless I am out in nature...so...i have a difficult time ahead of me as I start to sort through all my "junk" to get ready for my impending move....*sigh* - wish me luck please!
[photo by pj - Pitt Polder-circa 1987]

funny mood - imminent springtime?

2008-02-25T11:19:00.006-08:00

I'm in a funny mood today, lots to do, want to Post something new but cannot think of anything interesting....so....this is what you get...

My practicums went well (i think)...i learnt a lot, about Dental Reception and about myself. I know more than I thought I knew, also less than I thought I knew...all in all it was successful for me. I was very nervous on my first day, but people were very generous and patient.

Now I have a long list of "tasks" I have to attend to during the coming months, as I prepare to embark on another phase of my life....

The sun is shining and it is a fairly warm day...but I am wondering if anyone else saw the eclipse of the moon?

cheers for now,
pj

Just felt like adding these...after watching The View

2008-02-07T13:36:00.000-08:00

BEFORE

AFTER [circa 1976]
"every picture tells a story"

don't really know what to "blog" about...

2008-02-01T13:36:00.000-08:00

Just need a new post, but I am so preoccupied with my upcoming (stupid)7 hour exam on the 9th that I really can't concentrate on creating an interesting new post, so I am just going to post some of my favourite photos.

Guess who?

me and you know who!! [really old photo]Believe it or not, but my really creative young 'un made herself a little ear-ring using a little figure of, darn, i can't remember the name of it...anyone, tell me if you know, one of those weird trolls with shaggy psycadelic coloured hair???

my mom's place (note deer on lawn)

photo i took of red dragonfly when i visited my mom in summer

HAPPY NEW YEAR, y'all

2008-01-06T12:36:00.000-08:00

Just a quick note to wish everyone Happy New Year...have tons to do today, back to school tomorrow; will be keeping my head down for awhile, then hopefully, pass my 7 hour exam [yes, SEVEN hours, can you believe it, for a position as a Receptionish? -Sheeesh!]

anyhoooo.... Kitty says Happy New Year too...

Merry Christmas All

2007-12-22T07:43:00.000-08:00

I awoke this morning (6:30 a.m) to the muffled sound of tires on a slushy road, and I thought: "Ah hah, it IS snowing". It was very cold yesterday and I was saying to random strangers: "Brrrr, it feels like snow"... So I got out of bed and drew back the curtains, and sure enough, the ground and trees and house tops are covered in the proverbial blanket of white.....so Merry Christmas everyone, I guess I will be taking a slow walk to the Mall today to pick up that last box of Purdy's Chocolates (why do I always leave the box of chocolate covered cinger for my mom 'til the last minute?)

Now, my absolute favourite things about Christmas are the Lights, and Christmas Carols...what are your's?...so, as mon Kapitano would say - "over to you".

FINALLY!!!!!

2007-11-11T16:14:00.000-08:00

As you can see we had a Celebrity Guest: "Zza Zza Ga Bear"

the weather was beautiful and we all had loads of fun...

ted's NEW NAME

2007-10-13T10:50:00.000-07:00

AND THE Teddy-Bears' Picnic

By unanimous consent the new name for pink bear is
[drumroll please].....tah da da dah!

"OSCAR"

- and the prize goes to
Meow....

sorry but I have not had time to download the photos from the picnic...how hard can that be?

Well, if you are me, very hard.
That is why it has taken me so long to make this announcement.
The teddy bears' picnic was the second week of September, and after a few organizational glitches we ended up having it on Saturday, instead of the Sunday as announced. This was just as well, because as it turned out Saturday was warm and Sunny, then the rains arrived on Sunday...

well, here is a photo of the "venue" of the picnic, and when I have time I will post a photo of the "prize" which I will be sending off to "Meow" soon (I might give her a choice of prizes), as well as some photos of the actual picnic.

cheers for now

and the winner is......

2007-09-18T16:08:00.000-07:00

stay tuned for the exciting update on the "name Teddy" contest!!!!

taking a brief respite!

2007-08-26T13:24:00.001-07:00

Just to let everyone know that I am taking a "brief respite", so don't worry, i'm OK, just a little worn out...

But I just want to leave you with this adorable photo.

see you all soon,
pj

If it quacks like a duck, then it must be a duck!

2007-08-11T13:41:00.000-07:00

Is it a good looking girl? Is it a charming young man? NO! It's a Landmark Shark dressed up as a charming young man -- "swim" for your life!

Landmark “Education” Corporation is not a non-profit society; it is not a benevolent organization; it is a Multi-million Dollar Business using questionable business practices, and practicing group-therapy without a medical license. Landmark “Education” Corporation cannot be referred to a cult because it claims no religious affiliation. It is worse than a cult.

Landmark “Education” Corporation practices the same mind-control techniques that were used during the Korean War when American POWs defected or denounced their country in large numbers. The brainwashing process would begin when the Chinese Communists persuaded POWs to write down a mild criticism of their country, such as “America is not perfect.” Once that stone had been laid, and enough psychological pressure exerted, it was often only a matter of time before the prisoners were making harsher statements.
This, say the experts on cults, is exactly how many of today’s human potential groups begin their programs – with strict observation of seemingly petty rules, such as needing permission to go to the bathroom, or having to be seated by the time the music stops playing. The group leaders really don’t care if you’re sitting or not, only that you’ve followed orders.

And once you say yes to something small, it is that much easier to say yes to something big – even if that means revealing your innermost traumas to a hundred strangers.

Landmark “Education” Corporation uses techniques that can seem innocuous, at first. Some of them – guided imagery, for instance – may actually be familiar from a relaxation class or self-help audiocassette. In the wrong hands, however, these techniques can do an astonishing amount of harm.

Take a few days without proper rest, add a regimen of closed-eye exercises, and anyone can become vulnerable to suggestion. You’re simply flooded with emotion. The trainers usually get you to think of all your most powerful memories, under the guise of somehow conquering your past. After several days of being “dragged down into the pits”, says someone who has had the Landmark ‘experience’… “the final day of exercises is usually designed to pump you up. By this time, customers usually just sort of drool and follow the leader. A false sense of community and camaraderie has developed. By now, they do everything they can to give you the ‘warm fuzzies,’ so that you’ll sign up for the next course.”

By the time Landmark is finished with you, your bank account will be empty and the only people who will want to be friends with you are other “Landmark Junkies”.

At some point of our lives we all feel unhappy. Even the smartest and most intelligent person will be emotionally vulnerable at some point in our lives, and the Landmark “Education” Corporation preys on us at these times. The programming starts the minute you walk into a meeting – before you have even put on your name tag – it is that insidious and subtle. In the first 15 minutes you will be instructed to look into the eyes of the Landmark “graduate” (often a son/daughter or spouse – i.e. someone you trust) at that point you have unknowingly taken the first step in the process of group hypnosis.
If you are someone who is syseptable to hypnosis it will only be a matter of minutes or an hour before you sign up for your first course. And then you are hooked!

For more information check out www.culteducation.com; www.rickross.com, or Google “neurolinguistic programming”

A Brief Respite

2007-08-01T09:58:00.000-07:00

Hi All,

I will be away for a couple of days. So i will not be here to reply to your comments.

While i am gone, i thought it might be fun to solicit some help from Blog Visitors.
I would like to know what are some of my better Posts. So please feel free to go into the archives and let me know. I think maybe we should limit the list to 3 or 4 each, but of course if you want to leave more that would be fine too. I'll start with one of my favourites.

Actuall, it is a Post in two Parts:

Vedder River Run - Part 1, posted on August 29, 2006
and
Vedder River Run - Part 2 - posted on September 4, 2006

Oh, and if you like, you can also state the reason why it is your favourite. When i return i will be leaving my replies to your Comments, as usual. Thanks all!

So now, as Capt. Picard would say: "over to you"

Time To Move On.....

2007-07-27T15:32:00.001-07:00

Well, yesterday, i met with my new friend. She surprised me with the book

the art of the sari

from the Surrey Art Gallery, in which one of her poems is published. I sure she won't mind if i share her lovely poem with you.

Sari by vb

I am a Sari
I am an East Indian Women's identity
I come in all colours -
I am a friend in grief and in happiness

In red colour I become a bride
In white a widow
In orange a saint
In yellow i look like the mustard flowers blooming in a field -
I bring new hope for all
I am a long piece of cloth about 5 1/2 meters long
I am draped over a long skirt that clings to the beautiful waist of a
woman
A blouse is worn on the upper part of the body called choli.
The moment I fling my pallu over my shoulder everyone gazes at me -
I am not just a piece of cloth to cover the body.
I am a living painting, a piece of Art.
I am a Poet's Dream
I am a Security Blanket for a child
I am the heart throb of lovers
I am a subject of conversation. Your Sari is gorgeous!
Where did you buy it? Munbai, Delhi or Surrey?

I am all decked up with beautiful pearls, beads -
gold and silver thread embroidery looks so stunning on me -At
party or in temple i look graceful -

Every Sari has a story of its own.
The vision of a designer springs up on me and unfolds the story.

I come in many forms

In order to improve each form

I created jobs for many

Each province in India has its own style -

In Gujrat & Rajastan I became famous by the name:

Bundhani & Kotadona

Lucknow is known for chikan work
In Bernares as Banarsi Sari
Tamil Nadu has Kachniparam
In Mysore silk & cotton rules
In Bangladesh Jamdani, Pabna is my name.

I have been around for centuries
In every decade I became more beautiful -

First my grandmother wore me
Then her daughter
Then her daughter's daughter
I may come in different versions
But
I always maintained my Name Sari

As I kept on improving myself many followed me

Jewelry, purse, shoe & shawl joined me
I am glad I am a Sari

I became a source of income for many
I was born & brought up in India
I flourished in other countries

On the runway whether it is a white, black, or brown woman -

I look good on everyone

I am the Pride & Joy of

Bollywood
&
Hollywood

Today I have Global recognition for that I am thankful -

I am happy that I am a Sari
You became happy to see me -
I am happy that you are happy -

Isn't that beautiful!

And here we are at the Surrey Art Gallery, "all decked out" in our finery, at the opening of the art show in April.

what IS a mother to do?

2007-07-23T11:07:00.001-07:00

Further to my little rant about Landmark Corporation i decided to publish my opinions about it. I am sure i will be criticized by people who may have just completed the Advanced Course in July (if they happen to read this Blog), because they will still be on the "high" that this group process creates.

I am hoping that by Posting this information someone out there in the Blogosphere will be inspired to do an investigative piece on "the corporation", because i am not skilled enough to do this myself, and i think there are some people out there who need to be protected from these very aggressive, unethical "salesmen". (because while they claim to be "Educators", i really believe that their main interest is in making lots of money. The fact that some people might get something from this education is incidental).

Some Landmark "curriculum" claims:

$$ The Landmark Forum is the world's most widely acclaimed personal development programme.

$$ Recently, Landmark's work was the subject of two case studies by leading graduate business schools at two prestigious American universities. The first case study focused on Landmark's work with individuals, while the second case study centered around Landmark's work with organizations.

$$ The Landmark method is more like coaching than teaching, more like dialogue than lecture, more like a university case-method of study than learning theories, more like acquiring skills than learning tips, rules and information.

$$ Each year over 160,000 people participate in Landmark's programmes. [hmmmm...multiply 160 thousand by approximately ($500 + $1,000 + ? = plus/minus $1,500) ?$2,4000000? My little hand calculator can't even handle this sum. Boy, i think i want to buy shares in this company!]

$$ Nearly one million people on five continents have participate in Landmark's programmes.

further, "Each day begins at 9:00 a.m. and typically ends at approximately 10:00 p.m.*
the * sent me to the very small print at the bottom of the page which reads: "In locations where The Landmark Forum is being simultaneously translated, the coure will end between 10:00 P.M. and midnight" - The Forum Is Being Simultaneously Translated? - what the ffftt does THAT mean?

Actually, my daughter started at 10:00 a.m. and finished at 12:30 after midnight! - then she still had to travel an hour and a half to get home!
The back of this glossy 7-page (8 1/2 by 11) brochure lists their corporate headquarters as San Francisco with offices in Melbourne, Perth, Sydney, Montreal, Toronto, Vancouver, Frankfurt, Bangalore Bombay, New Delhi, Tel Aviv, Nagoya, Osake, Tokyo, Mexico City, Nairobi, Amsterdam, Auckland, Wellington, Cape Town, Bucarest Singapore, Bangkok, London Arizona, California (Los Angeles and Newport Beach) Sacramento San Deigo, San Jose Denver, Ft. Lauderdale, Atlanta, Chicago, Kansas City, Boston, Detroit, Minnesota, St. louis, New Jersey, New York, Ohio, Cleveland, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Dallas, Houston, Utah, Virginia, and Seattle.

After my daughter's participation in "The Forum", i was somewhat concerned, but when she told me that she did not really want to attend the Advanced Course (in July) i decided that i did not have anything to worry about. But she said, "oh well, as i have already paid for it i guess i should go [she had put down $750, and her dad had loaned her the rest" - $250]- By Sunday she was "hooked" again and behaving in a really hyper, slightly manic, totally weird way, and talking gibberish.
I went into panic mode and phoned my sister, several friends, and my neice. My friend said i have to let her learn her lessons the "hard way", my sister said there really was not much i could do, after all, she is 24 and supposedely an adult, one friend said she totally understood that i want to protect her, and my neice told me she had a couple of friends who have become "Landmark Junkies" (my term) and when they phone her at 3:00 in the morning to "be complete" with her she just laughs at them.

These "Landmark Junkies", are tolerated but disliked by people who have not done the Landmark Education courses, and are really annoying because people cannot understand what they are talking about, and they are always trying to "enroll" their friends and relatives.

I was really concerned because i did not want my daughter to alienate her boyfriend, friends and relatives, and i felt very strongly that the Landmark Corporation is mis-using neurolinguistic programming techniques.

So i went to the Internet and found a mass of literature about Landmark, some in support of Landmark, others not.

Here are some sites you can visit if you are interested, and i highly recommend that you do, just in case someone you know is thinking about spending money on these courses.

>>The Process and Ecology of The Forum
http://perso.orange.fr/eldon.braun/awareness/f-process3.html

http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Shadowlands/8080/forum1.htm

http://skepdic.com/est.html

Quoting from Charles Denison: The Process and Ecology of the Forum: "If you play according to the rules, you can expect big results from The Forum. If you don't. '...you may still get the result, but you forfeit your right to expect it.' In other words, cooperative participants can expect to bear the fruit of "The Promise of The Forum." Unfortunately, the promise is not readily identified, and none of the subjects seemed able to quote it. There are a number of handouts which document the promise, albeit none of them represent the definitive statement on the subject. The ones the researcher has on file include:
* The promise of The Forum is to empower you in the face of the risk that life is
* A breakthrough in relationship to yourself and the world around you
* A breakthrough in personal efectiveness
* A breakthrough in the practice of excellence
* A breakthrough in the art and science of achievement

Perhaps the most comprehensive statement of "the promise" is the one written on the board during the training:

THE PROMISE OF THE FORUM IS THAT YOU CAN GET ANYTHING OUT OF THE FORUM THAT YOU ARE WILLING TO STAND FOR HAVING GOTTEN" [pj - "huh?"]

further; "...In the informed consent packet (which arrives in the mail) registrants have been notified of the required promises and the recommended promises they will be asked to make. 'We are asking you go give your work and to keep your word, specifically to make certain promises and to keep those promises you made, during the entire presentation of The Forum..."

Required promises (paraphrased):
> When you wish to speak in The Forum, you must raise your hand and be called on by the leader. Then you must take a microphone and speak into it. You also promise not to talk to others during the sessions.

> Always wear your name tag "in a visible place." [i recall now that when i attended the last presentation a "volunteer" at the door stopped my daughter because she could not see her name tag]

>Do not bring tape recorders, cameras, reading materials, busy work, or food to your chair. Also, you need to promise not to take any notes.

> Practice confidentiality, knowing that absolute confidentiality can never be assured. (In other words, you must agree not to identify other trainees and their issues outside The Forum, but you must also realize that no one at Landmark can guarantee that your identity will be kept confidential.)

> Read and sign a legally binding statement of copyright and no resale, a document which declares that every concept and activity taught at The Forum is the property of Landmark Education, and that you will not repackage and sell it for financial profit. (One may not go out and produce thier own Forum training) [my comment: well, that is pretty standard]

> Read and sign an informed consent (document) in which you confirm that you are healthy and that you understand the The Forum is not any kind of psychotherapeutic treatment program. This document included question about your history of psychiatric hospitalization, current psychotherapy, and your use of psychotropic medications.

Then there are the recommended promises:

> That you not take any drugs or medications, including aspirin and alcohol, except those which are prescribed by your health practitioner. Caffeine and nicotine are allowed.

> That you stay awake and alert during the sessions.

> That you be present in The Forum during all the sessions. You are allowed to go to the bathroom anytime: if you do so, however, 'you forfeit the right to expect any result from your participation' ("I was reminded of this by the doorkeeper who greeted me on the way to my first bathroom break" - Charles Denison)

We all knew all this before we entered The Forum room, since we had all been mailed packets which informed us of these promises. No big surprises. But getting throught he discussion of, and agreement to, the promises took well over an hour....It is somehow obvious (to me, at least) that the leader has heard every complaint many times before.

"What if somebody has hypoglycemia and needs to have a little food at their seat?"
>"oh. do you have hypoglycemia?"
"Well, no."
>"Next question, please."

Some of the discussion comes in the form of a challeng:

"All this seems like mind control or something, like you're just trying to control us. Like we're being deprived of food and sleep. Like we can't even go pee if we need to: can't talk to anybody."
>"Do you have a question about the promises?"
"It just seems ridiculous, weird."
>"I got that. Do you have a question about the promises?"
"No. You know, that's just how I feel about it."
>"Are you agreeing to make these promises?"
"Uh, yeah, I guess so."
>"Yes or no?"
"Yeah...Yes."
>"I got it. Anything else?"

Conditions Created by the Promises

The researcher and several interviewees recognized a great deal of resistance to the Promises as they were being presented during The Forum. After The Forum, there was a shift in attitude among some participants about that process - that it was actually "the work" of the Forum, as opposed to an inappropriate delay in getting The Forum started.

The promises are an integral part of the structure of The Forum, and they are a means by which this unique experience is facilitated."

The foregoing is just a brief summary of the document entitled "The Awareness Archives which is headed up by this disclaimer: {"This copyrighted article is provided under U.S. COPYRIGHT ACT 108.Limitations on exclusive rights: Reproduction by libaries and archives. The archives are provided for your private study, scholarship, or research; and any use you make of the materials must fall under the Fair use exception of the U.S. Copyright Act." - I went to both the copyright links but could not get connected to read, so i'm hoping that quoting some of the document and giving credit to the author is ok for me to do.

I ignored my friend's advice who said i have to let my daughter "learn the hard way". My reasoning being is, i'm still her mom, and it is still my job to do what i can to protect her. Why should i let her give her hard-earned money to a bunch of slick salesmen? I know that i have no control over whether or not she does give them her money to take the courses, but at least i have some responsibility in letting her know what i myself have learned about "the corporation".

But having said that, any feedback would be welcome.

Sunday July 22: Addendum to: Time for a New Post

2007-07-19T12:03:00.000-07:00

I've been "schmoozed"... [thank you Sylvia!]

Sunday, July 22, and the team i was rooting for, The Argentinians, won the U-20 FEFA Gold, hurrah!! ....

...and then more good news! hieresschild has kindly bestowed an award on my Blog! What a lovely surprise. Check out her blog [i don't know how to add a link within the text here, so just go to comments and click on her comment there, ok?] where she has a good definition of "to schmooze".

So now i have to nominate 5 people to pass this award on to. My first thought was Capt. Picard's Journal, but i think he already has recieved that award. This is not going to be easy, to limit it to 5, as there are so many good Blogs around.

The criteria for my choices is based on content that i find interesting, ones that have a variety of topics, as well as lots of photos, and ones that have up to 10 (or more) commentors. So here they are:

**Viamaria
**Lesley
**Nancy
**They Call him James
**Smalltown RN

and i had to add
**alan (for those who remember his fabulous Saturday's Recipes - you have to agree that those were the BEST!)

So, check out their sites by clicking on the links listed over there at the right, above the photograph of Maddie.

There are actually a few more that i would like to add, but perhaps i could invent my own Award. So until then, there you have it

I'm feeling pressured to put up a new Post. Isn't that odd?

The trouble is is that i'm "in a mood"-- and i have too much to do and i don't know where to begin. I'm kind of "down" today, and i'm not sure why. Last night i went to the Landmark Forum with my daughter.

I told her that i had absolutely no intention of sighing up. I had given her something to read that i had found on the internet. It was a critique of the Landmark Education Corporation and my daughter told me the person who wrote it did not know what he was talking about. We argued on most of the skytrain trip into downtown Vancouver, and i said, "I think i should just get off the train and go home, i don't feel like argueing about this". She said: "i'm not argueing" (psssthtst, could have fooled ME!). I told her that i might consider joining in about a year's time, once i saw that it had made a material difference on her life. She got really mad when i said that. I can't even remember what she said, but she had an answer for ever doubt i had, and no matter how illogical her answers sounded i was unable to have an intelligent discussion with her.

Anyway, by the time we got off the train and found a "starbucks" (i must be addicted to THAT brand!) i felt a bit better. She declined my offer to buy her a beverage, so i am not sure if she was just being considerate of my financial impoverishment, or if she was cross with me...oh well, whatEVER...

[I had no idea i was going to post about this....but now i'm on a roll, i guess this will be my new post]

There were not a lot of new people at the Landmark Office, and it seemed that most of them had done the courses. I was surprised at the lack of "special" name tags which i noticed at the last presentation i had attended. There were also about 16 people sitting at tables where registration would take place.

My daughter wanted to go to this presentation because she had heard wonderful things about the speaker.

I braced myself, expecting to be bombarded by shouting, "invitations" to sign up, repetition of "I get it", and the crowd responding to the speakers' promps. I was disappointed and pleased at the same time.

The meeting was called to order at about 7:15 (we had rushed to get there by the start date of 7:00) and although my back was terribly sore, and i was stiff all over from the very uncomfortable chair, i found the speaker entertaining and pleasant to listen to. The funny thing is if he had been the first speaker i heard at the Landmark Forums i might have been persuaded to join.

The speaker talked for about 10 minutes, briefly outling the program, and then said, "Well, there's not much more to tell you, so you can either sign up now and then go and see a movie, or go out for a beer, or we can waste more time talking about it" (something to that effect).

I was alarmed however, when he said that Landmark "Education" is working on getting the program into the schools. (oh well, buyer beware i guess).

Another half hour dragged by, and no one made any move to sign up, so he repeated the above statement. He said you have a choice, using the analogy of renting a vidio movie, if you don't like the movie you can press the OFF button and do something else instead. I turned to my daughter and said: "I'm bored, and i am not going to sign up, so i think i will go home, are you going to come with me?" She gave me a surprised look and said: "Do you want to ride the skytrain by yourself?"

I knew she did not want me to leave, and i did not really want to leave her by herself as i sensed she might be embarrassed if i got up an left, so i stayed. It was not really a huge sacrifice and i did not have anything else interesting to do so i stayed.

At one point the woman sitting next to us jumped up at yelled out "NOW", quite out of context to what the speaker had just said. I kind of chuckled to myself, hoping that my daughter would notice this.

(At her "graduations" from the Forum and the Advanced Course the Leaders had littered their presentations with questions like: "And when do we want to do ______[insert action]", and the graduates would chorus: "NOW!" Then a few minutes later he would "invite" the guests to register for The Forum, or the Advanced Course, he would look around the room to see if anyone was getting ready to stand up, and if there was movement he would stop speaking and point to the back of the room where "volunteers" were waiting to sign up new participants).

Towards the end of the evening, (the session was scheduled to run from 7:00 pm. to 10:00 pm), after it became evident that no one was ready to sign up, the speaker asked for testimonials from the "graduates". They were eloquent and somewhat inspiring, and i felt happy that Landmark had made such an apparent difference in their lives.

Then it was time for us to "share" a "possibility" (just for the sake of exercise) with the person we came with. This is when the "bait" is presented, and more often or not when one might take the hook. My daughter shared some vague thing that i can't even remember, and then it was my turn. I think i shocked her when i told her that i felt that my mom's death is imminent and i started to tear up. She asked me some questions and i blabbered some non-sence about feeling that i would die when she died (i don't know if i really believe this, but of course on some level i will die, in spirit maybe, as we are connected genetically, so part of me WILL die with her - just came to this as i type this). But i really did not want to consider that room full of strangers as "family", and i was really uncomfortable being in this vulneral space, and i struggled to pull myself together, all the while thinking: "i am not going to enroll, i am not going to get sucked in, i do not want to take the Landmark Forum"...

The funny thing is though, as i told her later, if last night's speaker had been the first speaker i had heard at Landmark i might have given serious consideration to joining, but the first two "educators" had been so aggressive and presented such a hard sell that my suspicious were aroused, and my resistance so strong that i am not sure anything will break it down.

At 9:30 it became evident that no one was going to jump up from their seats and sign up, so the speaker called the meeting to an end, and we left, without saying goodbye to anyone. As we walked back to the skytrain I sensed a real air of dejection around her but when i said: "You appear dispondent", she asked, "How do you come to that conclusion?". I replied: "Your body language", so then she went into a dissitation about body-language and how it can mean different things, and she quoted something from the Forum about men in the army who stand at attention with their arms folded because it is comfortable to stand that way. (I did not point out to her that it seemed incongruent that the army would support anything that would bring comfort when soldiers are "at attention" because i realized this was a pre-programmed defence she had been "taught" by this highly monetarily successful Incorporated Company that provides "education".)

We walked on in silence for a little while. She said she was hungry so i suggested that we walk up to Robson Street and see what we could find to eat. The streets were littered with all sorts of interesting people, and the glum mood lifted somewhat as we discussed where we should get a coffee.

On the ride home she assured me that she was very comfortable with her decision not to sign up for the July course (she has something else planned), or the August course (again, she has reservations for something else then and she is not going to cancel) and that there is no date for a November course so she has not put any money down. (so far she has spent $750.00 Cdn., her dad paid the $500.00 for the first course, and loaned her $250 for the Advanced course), and i felt relieved that she had not "invested" any more money until she has had time to absorb what she has learned up to now.

As we got closer to her place i said that i had made a list of things for myself to accomplish today, and perhaps she could phone me and check up to see if i had done them. She agreed and said she liked the idea of us being accountable to each other, and that it would help us get things accomplished.

When i dropped her off she was subdued, and i asked her if she was disappointed that i had not signed up. She said "not really, i know you don't have the money", but i felt very sad, as though i had let her down. I could not sleep so i stayed up until four this morning watching a movie. ("Strangers in Good Company" - it was quite good).

At 11:00 a.m. this morning i tried to phone her but she did not answer, so she is either asleep, in the shower, out, or not answering. I AM concerned that the "high" that she was on after her Advanced Course will not last (i am already seeing signs of this), and that she is in danger of "crashing"...but...i guess i have to just trust the process...whatever that is...trust that what will be will be, and get on with my own stuff. I do need to look after myself, get healthy, and start to enjoy my life again.

did however agree to be accountable to each other, as

[this is just, in a nutshell, what transpired last night - there is more, but i am tired now and i have only had one cup of coffee and half a papya to eat, and i am getting hungry]...then i have to get to my little list of things to do, so that when my daughter phones i can say that i have honoured my committment to myself.]
*big sigh*

{{nameste all}}

p.s. note to self: "get a grip, pj!!"

Comments below photo of "ted"

And now for something completely different: Remember to drop by my crafty blog and leave your suggestion in the "name the teddy" contest
click here

e: My One And Only Teddy - Crafts and Stuff

[Update - July 7th] i have too much to do but still i'm bored today

2007-07-03T10:41:00.000-07:00

[photo by pj - 2006]

I don't often get bored, so i don't know what's the matter with me (delayed Spring Fever?). It's a beautiful day in this part of the world, but i'm dreaming of a Hot Air Balloon Safari... as you know the Flighty Four (pinks) have flown off on their adventures, leaving me here to try to complete their travel journals from years back.

[photo by my mom GB]

But, technical difficulties prevail - no printer/scanner...

And weather distracts - sun shiny days...

well, later faithfull (?) readers....

and don't forget to send in your names for "ted"...thanks!

5:15 p.m. same day, more updating: - just saw a HUGE dragonfly buzziang around my balcony! - kool - for me that is truly a sign of summer...

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
{off topic}

I have to find a name for "Teddy" - Meow has suggested Oscar, and leslie Theodore, but what do you think. Check him out at My One And Only Teddy Blog and submit the Winning Name! [a prize could be arranged].

click her e: My One And Only Teddy - Crafts and Stuff

So far i'm partial to Theodore, mind you i only have two to choose from, and as i My daughter and i will be having a Teddy Bears' Picnic soon, i want to have a selection to choose from. Of course you will be able to vote for your own choice if you like, but you may change your mind when you read other Bloggers suggestions.

Also, what, if anything, do you think about the Prince who gave up his throne for the woman he loved? Let us know by joining in a discussion about The Duke of Windsor...
click her e:The Blethering Place

HAPPY "CANADA DAY" ALL

2007-06-29T15:17:00.001-07:00

This is my beautiful daughter at beautiful Jerico Beach,(photo by pj) downtownish Vancouver!

Come up and see us sometime; it doesn't rain all the time...

and don't forget to check the Post below for import "Toy-Recall Information"

Join a discussion about The Duke of Windsor...
click her e:The Blethering Place

cheers for now,
pj

Who's minding the Gates? - Toy Recalls

2007-06-20T10:21:00.000-07:00

[a stone gateway in
The Surging Wave Pavilion, Suzhou]

Just a Few examples of recalls of toys

MADE IN CHINA

toy pacifiers - nipple can detach from base = choaking hazard

band of watch contains liquid petroleum distillates

1 report of 2 year-old child biting into strap = irritation of mouth and throat

red wagon

small parts can break off: 1 report of child choaking

pool scooter - parts flying off: 9 reports: 3 incidents of facial injuries and bruising

Sesame Street Sun-glasses;

lenses can pop out = choaking hazard

girl's pendant: (sells fo $1.00) high levels of lead

Lead Poisoning is associated with behavioural problems, learning disabilities, hearing proglems and growth retardation.

Pokemon Plush Toys; may contain tips of needles

Bumble Bee Toys sold with Graco High Chairs and mobile entertainers;

26 reports, 5 incidents of choking, 1 incident of throat been scratched when part removed from child's throat.

toy fishing rods: high levels of lead

I started out thinking about doing a brief Post on the lead found in toy trains and the contaminated pet-food and the recent toothpaste scare, and in my search for a photo of the toy train found this site:
http://iparenting.com/recalls/toys_recalls.htm

When i got down to the end of the page, and 80 recalled toys (most of which are sold in dollar stores), i quit, and decided to simply put up the site for readers to check out for themselves.

manufacturing complex in Hangzhou

Further, in light of the recent news report of children stolen from their homes, and forced to work in some brick factories in China, where they are starved and beaten, and basically treated like slaves, it is time to ask:

Who is minding the gates? -- as well as: Is our own crass comsumerism killing us?

Post Script:
Just a bit of interesting trivia: The most impressive construction in Ancient China occurred under the cruelest emperors, such as the Sui Dynasty Emperor Yang Di, who assumed power in 604, reportedly by poising his father. hmmmm....history repeating itself on a macro scale?

To visit my new site please click her e:The Blethering Place

Don't Worry - Be HAPPY

2007-06-19T12:52:00.000-07:00

...here comes the sun...it was such a beautiful night last night. i did not take my camera with me when i went out so i could not get a photo of the night sky which was such a vibrant blue; with a crescent moon and the evening star shinging bright...it was no surprise to me to wake up to a beautiful sunshiney day!

...so hello all, and please go over to my new sub-blog, "The Blethering Place" (pictured below) and check it out (i have also solicited some advice for a very very minor problem - i would appreciate some feedback)
click here:The Blethering Place

Cheers for now,

not in the mood for writing...so photos only...

2007-06-15T14:29:00.000-07:00

i feel the need to do a new post, but i am not really in the mood, so here is just a quick fix with some photos...

My tomato seeds sprouted a few weeks ago! - they are bigger now, but i have not taken a new photo yet...

Here is a Fruit Boquette that i made for my friend Lucy who is convalesing after hip replacement surgery. Chocolate dipped strawberries and hearts and diamonds pineapple, with parsely as the greenery, in really nice mug that was meant to be a Christmas present in '06, but which i misplaced.

re-reading "The Return of Merlin"

2007-04-06T13:25:00.000-07:00

[this is me at Stonehenge, in case you did not recognize it, in 1980]

i'm re-reading The Return of Merlin" by Depak Chopra which i first read in March of 1996; here is a short excerpt for your reading enjoyment:

"Chapter 3 - Dragonflying

Melchior woke up with a dim, darkened mind. He felt hazy -- or was it just a hazy day? Into his head a soft word entered like woodsmoke: Afire. He stirred sleepily, feeling too heavy to rouse himself. "This is a sleep I could sleep for ages," he half-spoke to himself. But the word-smoke seeped into another chamber of his brain: Afire.

Sudeenly he was wide-awake. Trembling with anxiety, the apprentice knew what the word meant. The tower is on fire. Where had he been? He became aware that he was lying alone in a moist grassy field. The morning sun was warm on his back. Brilliant points of light dazzled his eyes from a blue pond nearby.

How did he get there? Hastily he looked around for Arthur's castle, only to find that looking around didn't work. His neck felt rigid and stiff; it wouldn't bend in any direction by as much as an inch, and his back was as immobile as if he had been tied to the rack. He fought the impulse to panic; instead, the same urgent thought returned, this time clamoring in his head like a brass bell: The tower is on fire!

Using his stomach muscles, which seemed to be working, Melchoir jerked around as hard as he could. He felt a stab of pain as his body twisted perhaps ten degrees, but it was enough. He now saw, hovering in the hazy distance, that his clamoring thought was true. A tower half a league away belched furious black smoke against the sky like a dying dragon.

"Master!" he thought in anguish. He was overwhelmed by an impulse to fly to the wizard's side. To his amazement, his wish came true. He found himself flying through the air, and not with the clumsy hops he was used to from his flying lessons, which as often as not dumped him into a prickly hedge of may or upside down in a pig ditch. He was truly flying, about ten feet off the ground, aimed straight and steady toward the burning tower.

Wherever it came from, Melchiour was too anxious to appreciate the joy of his new accomplishment. "I must go to him or all is lost!" he told himself. "The battle must be over, since there are no soldiers in sight. But why is the tower standing all alone like that? There should be walls and buildings. Where are the pennants and guerdons to signal that the king is inside?"

Above all, however, he wondered why he felt so odd. His thoughts sounded uncommonly strange in his head. "What is this?" he wondered, and the s at the end of this thought turned into a long, droning zzzz. He began to wish that life wasn't full of so many emergencies piled one on top of the other. He could barely comprehend the last crisis before a new one pelted him on the head. Becoming a wizard required the passage of many trials, and he could confess moments when he only wanted to rejoin common mortals in their world.

"And do what?" Merlin would snort whenever he spotted Melchior in one of these sloughs. "Eat toast and get jam on your face? Remember, it's better to be afraid with me than o be happy with them." Melchior wasn't so sure. He had no time for reminiscence, yet in a flleeting image he recalled the face of his grandmohter years ago, smiling and crying at the same time, the day she had smuggled him to the coast disguised in his flowing blue robes. "These fold do not know what you are, magical boy," she whispered mysteriously. "It's not your family's fault. You are a strange wonderful creature, yet they will turn you into a donkey, enslaved in the fields. Even your mother would, but I will never allow it."

He recalled the looming masts of the barkentine at barbor, his grandmother's trembling hands as she released him to the captain, finally to be alone, rocking in the dark as he tried not to cry out for his mother or his soft bed at home.

The Irish sea captian who had taken his grandmother's bribe would not permit the boy to come on deck for fear that the sailors, who were little better than pirates, would attack him. Melchior lay in the hold day after day, suffocating beneath a pile of moldy straw and jute. Once the ship's cook, rummaging for a barrel of salt pork, almost stepped on him, and others must have heard him sob in his sleep, for the crew began to shisper darkly of a ghost that climbed the mainmast and threw burning pitch on the heads of unsuspecting tars.

The stowaway grew sick and soon delirious. The captain held a dirty piece of mirror up to his face. "Look!" he whispered hoarsely. To his horror, Melchior saw that his skin had turned bright yellow, even the whites of his eyes. "Ye're turnin' jaundice on me," the captain muttered, vexed that he might lose the second half of his bribe if the boy died. That night he permitted Melchior to stagger out of the hold so he could stand in the cool sea breeze. The sky was spangled with a banquet of stars, which he already knew by their liquid Arabic names -- Rigel, Betelgeuse, Althazzar -- but gazing upon the distant beacons only made him feel more alone, coldly alone on the wide sea.

The next morning frightened the captain within an inch of his life. He crept down to bring Melchior a flagon of stale water. The boy was on his knees, looking up with a rapturous smile. A faint flow of peach-gold light was ll around him. The captain turned as green as a sick parrot. "Gad! a mad faerie it is," he cried, throwing the flagon behind him as he rushed up the ladder. Melchior noticed nothing, for his grandmother had come to him in a vision. She smiled at him and blew the sacred breath, the baraka, gently in his face.

"You will learn many spells," she said, smiling, "but none greater than this, the spell of faith. Only the wisest know that it is no spell but life itself." From that moment the jaundice disappeared, and Melchior knew that he came from a sorcerer's line.

These recollectionf of the long-ago past were struggling slowly to rise in Melchior's brain, like bubbles caught in honey, when a horrible shudder shook his body. An irrestible terror flooded him, and in an instant, with the life-or-death reflexes of a rabbit feeling the fox's incisors raking his back, Melchior dove to his left in a sharp swoop. He was just in time. A huge, dark mass zoomed past him. Monstrous claws grazed his right side. Melchior expected to feel his heart bound out of his chest in fear, except for some reason he felt as if he didn't have a heart. Strange.
"Safety! I must find safety," he thought. With incredible speed he turned a somersault in midair, hovered for a second like a doubtful helicopter, then dove straight for a round green landing field immediately to his right. The shadow passed overhead. His ears were filled with a loud angry "Kraw!" that almost deafened him. Then as quickly as it had come the danger disappeared. The air fell quiet, and Melchior was clinging to a green landing field with all his might.

Terrified as he was, it began to dawn on the apprentice that he wasn't in human form. The buzzing in his head, his stiff neck, the feats of acrobatic flying that came by instinct -- no, this wasn't him. What was he, then? If the village children had been there, they could have told him immediately -- he was a devel's darning needle, the swift menage of all smaller midges, moths, bees, bluebottles, damselflies, yellow jackets, and the rest of the buzzing clan.

[baby dragonfly - i took this photo last year]

[so i taped a dime to the window to give an idea of the size of the wee insect]

In plainer words, he was the first dragonfly of May. His brilliant bronze-green body dangled airily from a sycamore leaf as he slowly realized his strange predicament. The buzzing clan are not endowed with intellect, so it is no surprise that Melchior could not recall that this day was his birthday, the very morning he was born. He had crawled out of the small blue pond when the dawn light first slanted on it, wrapped in crumpled moist wings that feebly unfolded to dry in the breeze. (Before then, he had spent considerable time underwater as a ferocious dragonfly nymph, one of the terrors of pond life, hiding in the ooze amog the reeds waiting with a greedy pincer mouth to gobble up a passing minnow, tadpole, or anything else. But of this Melchior remembered nothing.)

The apprentice had no way of guessing that he had been put under a protective spell by Merlin after the battle for Arthur's kingdom was lost, transforming him into a minute dragonfly egg with its seed of life sleeping inside. Heedful to kill all magic and smash it to ruins, Mordred had blasted the castle to rubble and wasted the surrounding fileds with fire, yet the infinitesimal egg was borne safely over the terror on a breeze toward the river Severn, where it washed for miles downstream (narrowly missing being eaten by a hungry hook-jawed trout) landing in the murky swamps that then circled in all directions.

And there Melchior slept through history. Sleep is a risky business: whe first you crak your eyelids to wake up again, you can't tell for certain how long you've been alseep. It could be twelve hours or twelve minutes or twelve years. In Melchior's case, the spell had lasted twelve full centuries, and two more, until he woke up in a different world, where even the ruins of magic left by Mordred had turned to unremembered dust. What he had spied as Merlin's burning tower was the smokestack of an iron-smelting plant, and the reason he couldn't see the battlements of Arthur's castle was that they had long ago crumbled to mossy rubble that peasants had gathered and taken away to build sheep pens.

At present, now that his maiden flight was over, he was still quite confused. Exhaustion filled his body, and although he hardly felt safe swaying on the underside of a leaf, the gentle rocking, added to the heat of the sun, soon put him to sleep. He had no idea what time it was when he cam around, but long shafts of afternoon light reached under the foliage where he had hidden. Again the imppulse to take off gripped him. I must go to my master. And despite his fear of the giant shadow, which was in point of fact an ordinary hungry crow, he took wing. Only this time he didn't get anywhere. The burning tower was still straight ahead, due east. Yet as hard as he beat his crips, veined wings, he made no headway. If anything, he found himself alling backward, bounced hear over heels by the hard air.

"I've got a beaut!" a thunderous voice calle dout. Melchior fought against what felt like an invisible stone wall. It did not good. With a deafening clap the lid of a jelly jar slammed down over his head, and in two seconds he was a bottled insect, trapped by a gigantic little boy who peered at hi curiously. "Yeah, you are a beaut," the boy murmured, drawing his monstrous face right up to the side of the jar. "Do you fancy coming home with me?" The gigantic little boy who was Melchior's captor started to turn the jar over, admiring the bold black bars on Melchior's wings, whose tracery was as intricate as a cathedral window. The boy's huge pink face was so terrifying that the apprentice was sure he had dropped back in time, to the age of the giants that Merlin had vanquished as a boon to humans." ...

Does anybody else see anything wrong with this picture?

2007-03-19T10:34:00.000-07:00

"Tasty tips for dumpster dining" shouts the headline, "FEEDING THE HOMELESS: Pamphlet offers advice to binners on how to find the best meal" article by Elaine O'Connor and Peter Severinson (Staff Reporters)

This newspaper article appeared in The Province on Thursday, July 6, 2006 and got buried in my office. I have been meaning to Post about it since then. In part the article reports: "A support organization for the homeless is giving out tips on how to dumpster-dive for food. Dumpster-diving is an "important way for people to access food in Grandview-Woodlands." the Grandview-Woodlands Food Connection coalition says in a pamphlet funded in part by the Vancouver Coastal Health Authority. [HEALTH Authority - can you believe it]

It continues: "James Brookes (pictured above) agrees. He gets most of his meals out of the garbage and says it's better than the free food at most shelters. The sheer number of binners is the biggest challenge, Brooks said. Yesterday morning he got lucky, spotting a store worker throwing out a bag of day-old doughnuts. He also found a box of Pop-Tarts past their expiry date and two yogurt cups. ... 'You more or less have to smell-test it,' Brooks said, stuffing the plastic cups into his vest pocket... For Brooks, dumpster-diving is a choice, not a necessity. 'I won't eat at the Salvation Army', he said. 'Too many people going through the line, [portions] aren't all that big, and it usually tastes like shit.'

hmmmm....last week i was driving my daughter home and we saw a huge rat running accross the road, and last summer we had to get the Pest Control guy in to get rid of a swarm of rats living behind our building. We also had to plug up the bins to keep the rats out. Almost on a daily basis we have dumpster divers rummaging around in our bins, even tho' we have posted "no trespassing" signs and on one or two occasions phoned the police to come and chase them away. I once saw a man eating right out of a bag as he and his buddy undid the big black plastic bags to root around in them and remove what they wanted, leaving the rest strewn all over the place. I told them to get out, but they just hurled obsenties at me. I just shook my head and sighed, recalling that the bag i had just thrown in the trash was filled with my cat's used Kitty Litter that i had just cleaned out of her box! Not to mention all the other used bathroom items and moldy kitchen stuff that had probably been sitting there for the past few days.

So when i read that "The coalition's Connecting the Dots brochure lists food banks and sources of free meals, and offers advice on the best ways to salvage from dumpsters." i was furious! AND further, "About 1,000 brochures - targetting low-income, immigrant and homeless resiidents - were printed in English and Spanish and distributed last week to centres such as the Multicultural Family Place, MOSAIC and Britannia. The project received $15,000 from the Vancouver Coastal Health Authority as well as funding from VanCity, The Vancouver Foundation and Simon Fraser University." Tring Tring....answer the Clue Line fellas, IT'S GARBAGE! ...sheesh!

In a time when we are seeing the comeback of polio and tuberculosis, not to mention new and unknown viruses that mystify health authorities, this is the best solution that an intelligent group of individuals can come up with to solve the problem of feeding the poor.

It is DISGRACEFUL that $15,000 + has been spent to encourage people to engage in such a shameful and potentially dangerous activity. People who for the most part already have compromized immune systems should not be rummaging around in garbage bins, for the most obvious of reasons.

Even as i write this, i sit and shake my head...and i think about the rate and how they were exterminated, using rat poison, causing a horribly slow and painful death, and i wonder if they had contaminated the food in our bin before they died, and then i realize i have not seen one or two of "our regulars"... and in particular the one thin, dirty man who i saw sitting in the bin, stuffing a handful of something from one of the ripped-open bags into his mouth. I have not seen him since the summer, and i wonder if he is alive or dead, or lying sick somewhere, and i wonder what we can do, in this nation of extreme wealth, to make sure that people don't feel compelled to rummage in the garbage bins of the nation to meet a basic need that most of us take for granted.

Random Ramblings when i don't have a lot of time to spend on a Post

2007-03-12T10:43:00.000-07:00

You probably cannot read the print, so here goes:

Coming into God

"be careful in casting out your devils that you don't cast out the best thing in you" - Neitche

libido = impulse to life

(and in pencil below - the Hebrews, particularly, wipe out The Goddess)

so, the image is a compilation of pictures that i like, that "speak to me", alternately making me feel good and then inspiring me to "hold my own truth". I just found it tucked away in another pile of papers, so now it is up on the wall where i can see it, and hopefully it will inspire me to be more creative.

guess who?

Our Best Friend

2007-02-17T00:55:00.000-08:00

It's never too late to teach an old human new tricks. Fiorenze Albert-Howard of West Vancouver sent along this little something he saw on the Internet, called "Things We Can Learn From a Dog."

> Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride

> Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure ecstasy

> When loved once come home, always run to greet them

> When it's in your best interest, practice obedience

> Let others know when they've invaded your territory

> Take naps and stretch before rising

> Run, romp and play daily

> Eat with gusto and enthusiasm

> Never pretend to be something you're not

> If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it

> When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by and nuzzle him or her gently

> Avoid biting when a simple growl will do

> On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shady tree

> Bond with your pack

> Delight in the simple joy of a long walk

"True Love" = Passion, Passion, Passion

2007-02-10T14:53:00.000-08:00

"The Moon is in My Heart" by Dwayne Edward Rourke

True Love is irresistible;

True Love moves you;

True Love is the adventure of unexpected things; you have to be brave to accept the randomness of love, be open to the alchemy of love.
True love is cruel, it is blissful, amazing, maddening and frightening, all at the same time; it makes us do crazy things.

True Love is not negotiable.
True Love is full of lust, combined with a deep spiritual yearning.

True Love demands unbridled intimacy. It demands that one surrenders all control, surrender self to the moment, to The Other.
True Love knows no bounds ~~so say i, pj [a.k.a. "dragonflyfilly"]

"Fish gotta swim, hearts gotta bleed" - Molly Ivens (1944-2007)

Soul Merge 5(2005) - graphics by "dragonflyfilly"

Happy St. Valentine's Day Everyone

Neon Love Note - photo by(2004) "dragonflyfilly"

...and love and Light to all!

A "must see" - Part 1

2007-02-05T10:13:00.000-08:00

If you live in the Greater Vancouver Regional District (GVRD), or, if you are visiting between now and March 4, 2007, you must absolutely get over to the Surrey Art Gallery on 88th Avenue!

This is by far the best exhibit i have seen at this Municiple Gallery. I loved all of the sculptures on display, but one or two i favoured. Here is just a small sample to view, and i will continue this Post as the weeks go by.

unit tea 2000

Artist: Michael Massie

"Massie is of mixed Aboriginal-European background and has become notable for his synergetic joining of Western art influences and techniques with Inuit imagery. His symbolic use of the ulu to probe his identity and understand the Inuit cultural origins of his mother defines his conceptual approach in his work. The teapot form was inspired by memories of his maternal grandmother. In unit tea, the two come together, but are transformed beyond easy recognition. We recognize the resonance of the ulu shape but the arched teapot seems more suggestive of the sleek curing body of a narwhal. Because Massie's work resists categorization, it calls into question existing definitions of Inuit art. He is conscius of this: 'All I really want to do is express what I see. If it comes out as being Inuit, then I think that is fine: if it comes out as being contemporary, that is also fine. I think that a lot of times I have a tendency to put the two of them together to see what happens.' [Fox 1996.p20; p. 21 inuit sculpture now, National Gallery of Canada,2005] "

Shaman Beckoning Spirits 2004

Artist: Abraham Anghik Ruben

"The flat front of Shaman Beckoning Spirits communicates the idea of a barrier between everyday life and the spirit world. Represented by the masked face and outreaching hands, the shaman is the intermediary who approaches animal spirits on behalf of the people. The joined and flowing forms of the bear, seals, and birds hidden behind present a lively contrast to the austere frontal view and convey the richness of the spirit world. A second interpretation offered by the artist relates to how the introduction of Christianity changed the status of the shaman, reducing once-powerful leaders to beggars in their own community. By extension, the shaman here is begging Inuvialuit Inuit not to discard their respect for traditional ways and knowledge." [p.27 inuit sculpture now, National Gallery]

This is my #1 favourite: The Shaman's Vision (1999) is one of Nasogaluak's most striking sculptures.

Artist: Bill Nasogaluak

"At first glance, the large void and missing eyes are disturbing" -- actually i did not find this so at all, rather, it instantly struck a cord deep in my soul -- "despite the beautiful proportions of the lower face. Part of the challenge for the artist was to make such a void the central part, yet when one recognizes that the figure is seeing through the eys of the bird, the reliance of shamans on the spirit world of animals becomes potently clear. "It's about a shaman getting his vision, his direction, and his thought from the bird. He doesn't see as the man. He sees as the bird." The subject is a recurring one in the artist's work relating to Gooblualooq, an important shaman whose spirit helper was a hawk, and who was known and respected around the turn of the century. Because this depiction of a shaman is related to a specific historical figure, it underscores the actual place of shamanism in the Inuvialuit Init belief system." [p23, inuit sculpture now, National Gallery of Canada]

(....to be continued...)

DISCOLOURATION - Part 11

2007-01-28T13:32:00.000-08:00

Listening to Cross Country Checkup, thoughts are streaming through my consciousness. I have not been exposed to any of the English Tabloid Press coverage, but it is said that it is being disrespectful to the victims and their families.

But then i am also reminded of when i was 9 years old. We were playing in the veld and we came accross a young man lying in the dry brown grass, moaning. We all tentatively drew closer and could see that he was bleeding from several wounds over his body. One of the boys ran home to get his dad (a tailor who worked out of his home); the ambulance was called and we all gathered around him watching helplessly as he lost consciousness, as the blood coagulated in bright red pools around him. I remember being mezmorized by his face, which, unlike the rest of his black body, was a strange pasty greyish yellow. I squatted there in the blazing sun, wondering why the ambulance was taking so long to come, and eventually when it did, about an hour or two later, the young man was dead! For weeks after i puzzled with the question of WHY the ambulance had taken so long, because just weeks before, when my dad had suffered a fatal heart attack, it was said that the ambulance had arrived 15 short minutes after the first call. It was explained to me that the ambulance had had to drive from one of the Townships, (a long way away) but i still did not understand. HOW DID WE ALLOW THIS TO HAPPEN?

For years i pondered this question, and as i grew up, and when we moved to Canada, i started to understand the apartheid system, and the fact that because the man was Black he could not be transported to the hospital for Whites (where my dad had died) and soon the proverbial penny dropped, and i became very angry. Angry because the man had died, angry because he could not be taken to the hospital for Whites. All i could think about that this young man had a mother somewhere - i wondered if he had a wife, if he had children who, like myself, would never see their Dad again. I was sad and angry all at the same time.

Now, the memory surfaces again because the only reason these women are dead is because they were sex-trade workers, and they were women, and they were First Nations women. The only reason it took so long for this to be acknowledged by the Justice System, and for an arrest to be made, is because these individuals were part of a group who are hugely margenialized. These women were daughters, sisters, some of them mothers. They have family who grieve their deaths. This makes me angry and sad. HOW DID WE ALLOW THIS TO HAPPEN?

But tears are not enough! What are we going to do to make sure that this does not happen again?

[see below for Part 1 of DISCOLOURATION]

DISCOLOURATION

2007-01-21T16:38:00.000-08:00

Listening to the news coverage of the impending Picton Trial, and specifically a program on Sunday morning, called “Voices Lost and Found”, regarding the women who were murdered by Robert William Picton, triggers memories of my ill-spent youth, I wonder how women ever manage to pick up the pieces of their shattered lives.

As the melancholy voice seeps through my radio, the names of the Lost Women echo through my unconscious, and the memory of my own brush with death is resurrected.

I guess I must have been about 23 when I went down to Albuquerque, New Mexico as the Delegate for the 1st Vancouver Toastmistress Club. Vibrant, energetic, full of myself and the eternal optimism of youth, naive and totally convinced that everyone shared my ideal of equality for women (the women’s movement was in its first bloom) I strutted around the Hotel and Conference Hall, rushing from meeting room to meeting room, oblivious of the impending danger.

In the whirl of Workshops and Seminars, voting at the Annual General Meeting, Lunches and Networking, rushed showers and quick changes (I used to be a real fashion Diva back then), I was absolutely in my element. I loved the hugeness of this event, meeting people from all over the world, and the importance of being the Delegate for my Club.

On the second evening of the Conference I was having dinner with one of my new found “friends”, a woman who was about ten years older than I; she was from one of the southern United States. She was with a man who I believe was either her husband or her boyfriend, and another man who was a friend of the man she was with. He asked me to dance, and of course I said “yes”. As the evening wore on I learnt that this person, whose name I have since forgotten (although I shall never forget his face), had been to Vietnam, his wife had “put him through law school”, that he was happily married, and lived in either North or South Dakota (can’t remember which); anyway, as I said, I was full of myself and the notion that men and women could be “just friends” (without the complication of sex); we could be intellectual equals …and so on and so on…and when the discussion of the Vietnam war came up I of course expressed my opinion firmly and without fear of censure. In retrospect I think how silly he must have thought I was.

His wife was one of the five contestants in the Speech Contest, so she had gone to bed early as the final competition was taking place the next morning. We were all still wide awake when the restaurant closed, so when he suggested we go elsewhere for some coffee I agreed and quickly went to use the Ladies Room. I returned to the table, quickly downed the remainder of my drink, said goodnight to the other couple and went with him to his vehicle which was parked in the guest parking.

We drove out into the sultry night. It was warm and quiet, with not one single restaurant or cafe in sight! I was starting to feel drowsy and said we might as well head back to the hotel as it looked like everything was closed for the night. The next thing I remember was waking up and when I peered out into the darkness all I could see was sand and scrubs, a bright moon and lots of stars! We were in the desert! Sleepily I looked around me, and then at him, and said: “What the hell are we doing here?” I don’t remember if he answered me or not, and even as I type this I feel sick to my stomach and vaguely uneasy. I can feel my skin begin to prickle. (it was only about 7 or 8 years ago i realized that maybe he had slipped something into my drink when I had left it unattended).

He stopped the car and put his arm around my shoulder and drew me close to him. I pulled away. He grabbed me again and tried to kiss me. I pushed him away and shook my head and said: “I don’t want to kiss you what the hell are we doing here take me back to the hotel” or at least something to that effect. I don’t really remember every detail, it was such a long time ago. But some details I can vividly recall. I was wearing red polyester slacks that I had made myself, with a matching top – a skimpy little triangle of cloth with straps that tied around my neck and my back – and jacket which I had removed before I had fallen asleep. He reached over and untied one of the straps and again tried to grab me and kiss me. I pushed myself away and told him I wanted to go back to the hotel. He yelled something at me and I burst into tears. He then started to talk to me in a cajoling voice, telling me how unhappy he was, and how pritty and sweet I was, and how bossy and controlling his wife was, and that his in-laws dispised him. I said I felt bad for him but that I was not interested in having intimate relations with a married man. When he realized that his pathetic stance was getting him nowhere he got angry and tried to grab me again. I don't know how long this crazy exchange of him badgering me one minute then cajoling me the next, went on, but suddenly he reached down and before I realized what he was doing he grabbed the sandals off both my feet. I became angry but my anger quickly turned to alarm when he said, very softly: “You’re a stupid girl, getting into a car with a complete stranger”. I tried to speak but my throat felt as though it was filled with sand. It seemed that this cat and mouse game went on for an eternity, and I remember thinking to myself: “he is going to rape me”….and…."even if I comply I think he is going to kill me”. My mind was racing. He got out of the car and went to the trunk and I could hear what sounded like plastic being removed, I hurriedly retied my top and put my jacket back on because now I was freezing cold. I do not remember at what point I saw the plastic and ropes he had laid out on the desert floor. I looked into the darkness and I could see a couple of vehicles miles away, but I was too frantic with fear to even think about trying to approach them. I do remember at one point I got into the driver's seat with the intention of driving myself away, but he had removed the keys from the ignition. I remember him laughing at me then.

My heart was thumping so loud it was making my ears ring. I don’t even remember what I was thinking, but at some point he was back in the car next to me, holding on to me tightly. He repeated what he had said about trusting a complete stranger, and then added: “I could bash your head in with a rock and leave you here and no one will find you for days, maybe even weeks.”

I had a picture of myself bound in rope, wrapped in plastic and left in a shallow grave, and in a flash I knew that if I did not attempt to escape he was going to kill me. All of a sudden I was filled with an immense feeling of peace and calm and I completely relaxed and when I did he released me. I sprang from the car and started running. I could see the twinkling lights of the city way off in the distance and ran towards them. I ran and ran and ran as hard and as fast as I could. I heard the slamming of a car door. I kept running. A few minutes later I heard the slamming of the trunk. I ran faster. I heard the second slam of a car door. I looked back and saw the headlights of the car blink on. I quickly removed my cream coloured jacket, knowing it would be easy to see, and rolled it into a little ball with the plan to lie down flat on top of it in the hope of maybe avoiding the lights of the car as I knew he would soon catch up to me. My lungs were on fire, and I remember thinking: “Come on girl, remember all the times you have run for a bus, you can do it, pretend you are late for work and this is the last bus of the day, you are running to catch that bus, run run run…” Just as I though my chest was going to burst right open I came to a “fork in the road”. It was not actually a road, just two tire tracks, as one finds in all deserts. Briefly I hesitated, not knowing which way to go. I must have looked up into the starry night and begged for help, then quickly decided on one path. I continued on, running as fast as my lungs and legs would carry me, but by now my feet were stinging with pain. I could only imagine what my bare feet looked like. When I looked back I could see the car stop where the tracks divided. I could not believe my luck when I saw it take the track that I had not taken. I continued to run as if demons from hell were chasing me.

I only stopped running long enough to see the car head down the other track a short distance….I continued to run, a little slower now to catch my breath and gather my thoughts. I could hear a dog barking in the distance and I saw a clump of houses, what looked like a fairly new sub-division. My heart sank when I saw the lights of the car come to a stop, and as the car turned around I tried to run faster. My terror mounted as I saw the car approach the fork again, saw the headlights veer around and point directly at me, and I tried to run faster. By now my feet were numb and clumsy. The car was getting closer and closer, and I was exhausted. I could now see the colour of the car as it moved menacingly towards me, and it was about two city blocks away from me when I reached a strip of tarmac and pavement. I could now hear the engine and a wave of desperation swept over me. Just as I was thinking “oh my god this is end” I looked up and a few yards ahead of me was a huge utility vehicle, and as I got closer to it I saw two men working on a hydro pole. I could not believe my good fortune and ran up to them quickly. I cannot remember exactly what I said to them, something about calling me a cab. Just then the car pulled up beside us and he reached over and opened the car door and told me to get in. I then remembered that my handbag and sandals were on the floor in the car (it amazes me now that even in the face of danger I remembered that my passport and hotel key was in my bag) so I went over to the car and reached in for them. But as I did he grabbed my other arm, and said: “Get in the car and I will take you back to the hotel”. Immediately I quietly replied: “ok”, and relaxed my arm, he slackened his grip on me and I wrenched myself away, backing out of the car. (Still to this day I cannot believe that he fell for this a second time). I had succeeded in retrieving my bag and sandals, and ran back to where the two men were.

He got out of the car and came towards me. When the two men saw him they stepped away from me and one of the men said: “Does he have a gun?” I could not believe my ears! I replied in disgust: “NO, just ropes!” - And I know this sounds like a ridiculous thing to have said but by this time I could see the dawn approaching and I was exhausted. In an instant I realized that the two men were assuming that this was merely a domestic squabble and they were not going to interfere, so I grabbed a hammer that I saw lying on one of the boxes and brandished it at him, shouting: “Stay away from me, if you come one step closer to me I’m going to bash your head in with this!” One of the men came up to me and took the hammer out of my hand! Aghast, I blinked and shuddered as I looked around. Seeing that he had the sympathy of the two men he again used his cajoling tone of voice, saying: "Come on, let's go back to the hotel." As I wondered what I was going to do next I saw a big rock which I picked up, and grasping it firmly I threatened: “If you think I am going to get back into that car with you, you are crazy! Stay away from me. Just DON’T come any closer! I’m warning you!” Now that I was feeling somewhat safer, my fear turned to anger. I was as mad as a snake disturbed from his summer slumber, and I was fully prepared to smash him in the face and I think he knew it. He backed away, returned to his car and drove off. Now I was shaking and crying, but managed to ask the men to call me a cab. I only had travelers' cheques in my purse, but fortunately the cab driver accepted them. It was light when we arrived back at the hotel, but it was still too early for anyone to be up and about. I hurried quietly to my look, startled my any sound, fully expecting him to jump out at me. My heart was beating fast when I got back to my room. My room-mate was sound asleep and I sat down on the bed and looked at my feet. They were filthy and covered in blood. I got into the shower with difficulty and was comforted by the heat of the water. I wondered why I had managed to choose the correct track and why he had taken the opposite one, knowing that his decision to take the "wrong" one had given me those precious extra minutes that had probably saved my life!

When I stepped out of the bathroom my room-mate was sitting up in her bed looking at me quizzically. I told her what had happened to me and I said I was going to call the police. She said: “Are you crazy? What are you going to tell them? They are going to ask you why you were out with a married man. You are a Canadian in the United States. You are a young, single woman, he is a lawyer. Do you really think they will believe you? He is just going to deny it and you will just be a swack of trouble! Trust me; you really do not want to go that route! AND besides which, don’t forget, we have to pick up that car we have contracted to deliver to San Francisco, and we cannot afford any delay.” Well, there was that to consider, and I did not have time to argue with her: it was nearly 6:00 a.m. and I barely had time to get downstairs for breakfast and head off to the Banquet Room for the Speech Contest.

Walking was extremely difficult. My room-mate had helped me “bandage” up my wounded feet with a dozen Band-Aids, and I had covered them with nylon stockings to keep the Band-Aids in place. I took a couple of Midols to ease the pain, but the medication had not yet kicked in. I somehow managed to find my seat at one of the round tables, as the “Executive” of Toastmistress International were introduced, and then the Contest commenced. The morning’s proceedings passed in a haze, and when his wife was introduced and commended as “a mother of three children who had put her husband through law school” there was a ripple of laughter and a hum of approval, but I cringed.

Her speech was all about her accomplishments as a mother and student of psychology, with a strong emphasis on putting her husband through Law School. More Laughter. She quoted B.F. Skinner several times in reference to the importance of firm discipline for children, and keeping errant husbands in line. Another ripple of laughter. The phrases “behaviour modification” and “operant conditioning” slithered off her tongue like sun-warmed honey. Anecdotes about her children and her husband were interchangeable and frequent, to the point where husband and children became one little case study. The audience was dazzled by her knowledge and humour. Images of the night before danced menacingly through my head, and her words sounded like a strange echo in my ears, the air became electric and I began to sweat profusely, my heart pounded and I felt dizzy. Somewhere in the recesses of my intelligent brain I wondered what her husband was thinking, I wondered how the laughter of the audience was making him feel. Was he, like me, recalling the previous night? I tried to catch my breath as I realized that I had had a narrow escape. I could not make any sense of what was going on around me as I re-lived the nightmare of a few hours earlier. Only the sound of loud applause brought me back to the huge banquet hall, and I took a sip of my cold coffee. I stumbled to my feet as the hall emptied, people buffeting me as they all chatted and laughed. I nodded politely when people spoke to me, but I did not really understand anything they were saying.

Lunch. Eat. Breath. Walk. Talk. Laugh. Breath. The Midol was starting to wear off and it was difficult to walk.

I was heading off to one of the big Lecture Rooms for one of the many workshops I had scheduled; as I walked down the corridor to the escalator, there he was, a few short feet away, his wife on his arm, tittering gaily. He looked right at me, leveling me with his blunt gaze. I stood transfixed, and my eyes met his. He did not flinch as he penetrated me with eyes of steely battleship grey. I felt my heart jump into my mouth; it was like looking into the eye of a shark as he rolls to claim his prey. An icicle slammed into the back of my neck, and a sharp chill cut through my spine.

In that instant I knew! I knew as sure as the sun rises every morning that if I had not run I would not be walking through that air conditioned corridor on that hot day in July. I took a deep breath and hurried past him and his wife. The rest of the day was a bit of a blur, but somehow I managed to attend to the business at hand. Only in the quiet times during my necessary visits to the Ladies Powder Room would I see those frozen eyes, would I feel them stabbing at my brain like a bloody dagger, and know, with dead certainty that he HAD PLANNED to rape and kill me.

The memory of this still haunts me, and piled upon the garbage dump of previous and subsequent encounters with men who have been less than gentle in their behaviour and language towards me, it has discoloured my life. Even thought I think that I have “moved on” ( and I have, by and large, thrived) I do believe that my anxiety with regard to the safety of my daughter stems from my own experience, and I don’t really know if I will ever be able to have any peace with regard to this.

(For a lighthearted break check out the post below)

...and now for something completely different...

2007-01-12T11:57:00.000-08:00

A weird "potporri" of photos, just for the hell of it!

my right hand being scanned by left hand
(actually, i took this photo to email to my daughter just to show her the size of some bead i had that she needed for a project)

Boobies near Christmas Island

Customized pony named Cheshire - by Susan

a night time fruit stand in Singapore

some women just "pose" with cigarettes

Pressie from Sissy "lites" upon my living room lamp (i told you i was "into" alliteration!)

to all, a Happy New Year!

2006-12-31T17:07:00.000-08:00

Waiting for One Child

2006-12-19T00:22:00.000-08:00

"Black, White Yellow, no one knows...

All accross the land dawns a bright new morn...
A ray of hope filters in the sky...

This comes to pass, when a child is born."

-~~ Boney M.

Merry Christmas All!! - Love, Light and Peace,
and JOY, in whatever form it takes

...and she's Baaaaackkk...
Persephonie wants everyone to get into some kind of Christmas Spirit, no matter how small. She may not put up a Christmas Tree this year...instead she will go out and gather a remnant from the Windstorm and put up a Christmas Twig with some delicate twinkling lights.

Persephonie in her Chirstmas Attire, complete with Healed and Healthy Heart (phew, just in time too!)

Get ready for a Twinkly Christmas Everyone.

images of Christmasses Past

2006-12-02T11:38:00.000-08:00

AND, congratulations to Sister Madonna Buder, who finished The Ironman at one minute before Midnight!

She is 76 years old and this is her 20th Triathalon

Fantastic!

POWER + CONTROL + FORCE does not equal "PEACE"

2006-11-27T08:35:00.000-08:00

@##$!%()+#$%^%$!!!~~#

2006-11-13T14:36:00.000-08:00

ADDENDUM: Damn it all anyway, but i am missing the Rolling Stones Concert...lack of planning on my part, oh well!...but under THINGS I AM GRATEFUL FOR: i am soooo glad i am not trapped in an unhappy marriage!

I was Memeed by Claybethelbridge!

Q:What color are your kitchen plates? A: I have a mixture of kitchen plates (odds and sods) – some clear glass, one white one, a couple of floral ones, a few white with floral border and one blue one. My mugs are an assortment of ones gifted to me and some that i bought for myself, some of which you can see in my Post of Nov.01/06. My good china is Wedgewood (Kutani Crane).

Q: What book are you currently reading? A: I’m reading a few at the moment, Jung’s Map of the Soul, by Murray Stein, Encountering Jung- Active Imagination, edited by Joan Chodorow, The Gryphon, by Nick Bantock , and I am re-reading The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. I seldom read one book at a time, unless it is a Mystery thriller or a trashy romance novel.

Q:What's on your mouse pad? A: Taz on a rampage

Q:The Thing You Look Forward To the Most? A: Getting well, being able to work and earn money

Q:Your favorite Smells? A: Honeysuckle and Fresia (oh and good coffee a-brewing!!)

Q:Your least favorite smell? A: Pork chops being cooked

Q:What's the first thing you think when you wake up in the morning? A: “Where am I?”

Q:Biggest Fear? A: Discovering there is no Hell

Q:What's most important in life? A: My friends and rellies (relatives).

Q:Chocolate or Vanilla? A: oh crumbs, that’s a hard one…..let me think? Oh! chocolate of course!

Q:Do you like to drive fast? YEP!

Q:Favorite TV show? A: I don’t have just ONE favourite at the moment.

Q:Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? A: Only once in a blue moon - when I am really sick or feeling sad.

Q:Storms - scary or not? A: Nope, but I don’t live in Florida…..Hah hah (i laughed too soon, i did a draft of this Post BEFORE our high winds here.... and the weather people are predicting another storm on Sunday....so....i might be singing a different song on Monday.

Q:First Car? A: Austin Heeley MarkII

Q:If you could meet one person? A: Carl Jung

Q:What's your sign? A: “…that’s a secret only my mother knows.”

Q: If you could have any job, what would it be? A: if I knew that I would be doing it now.

Q:If you could have any colour hair, what would it be? A: I CAN have any hair colour I want – I just have to find a good hairdresser. But I have always liked being a brunette.

Q: Is the glass half full or half empty? A:Most of my glasses are ¾ full of water, scattered around the house for when I am thirsty!(AND i've been boiling my water since 1983)

Q:Ketchup or Mustard? A: Mustard

Q:What's under your bed? A:What’s NOT – I’ve lost track.

Q: What screensaver is on your computer right now? A: All my photographs

Q:Do you have any pets? A: yep

Q:The best place you've ever been? A: 1. Stonehenge 2. Maui

oh, and i am going to ADD one.
Q: Name something that you have in your bathroom:
A: i have a sweet collection of rubber duckies, they are strictly ornamental though.

so there it is, hmmm now let me see, who should be MeMeed next?
I think el Kapitano...

i am the TRUE Wonder Woman!!!

2006-11-13T13:50:00.000-08:00

I know some of you will be thinking "What the 'hey? Halloween is long past - what's this all about?" - so, perhaps an explanation is in order. As well as responding to claybethelridge's claim that HE is the True wonder woman, i also had an interesting realization about myself last week.

I came to the conclusion that part of the reason for the terrible "rut" i am in now is because i seem to have lost touch with my "Intrinsic Self" - with the onslaught of "life" and all the stresses and woes that come with it, i seem to have temporarily mis-placed that fun-filled, energetic, motivated, creative person that i was during the time that this photo was taken. So part of this Post is also for myself, to connect back to that time when i knew that anything is possible, all obstacles can be pushed aside, i CAN realize my own destiny...and i just needed something material to remind me of that.

(circa 1977)

and here i have let my hair grow long (circa 1979)

An imposter (Clay i think) has been making claims that he is the True Wonder Woman, and i must therefore advise him to cease and desist from making such claims; he is just an imposter!

Halloween is Over - time for a new post!

2006-11-01T09:56:00.000-08:00

This is all i have the energy for after flying around on my broom all night!

BEFORE: Note skim milk in plastic jug before beating with Bamix electrical whisk

AFTER: Note that skim milk has tribled in volume after being "beaten".
This is my substitute for whipping cream to put on top of my capachino

Coffee Ritual - sometimes i use the plunger type coffee maker (see above photo), sometimes the good old electric coffee maker; anyway you make it, as long as you use good quality coffee it will please me.

BOOOOOO WHAHAAAA !!!!!

2006-10-26T23:39:00.000-07:00

And so, it is that time of year when we like to frighten ourselves and others with whatever strikes our fancy.

I think this Jack-O-Lantern must belong to "Casper"

For Halloween, I have decided to dress-up in my old football uniform, if it still fits, that is...

Fundraiser - St. James Community Service Society - Please Spread the Word

2006-10-21T15:49:00.000-07:00

Please help spread the word. "Empowering Women Through Voices, Song & Music" Under the Umbrella is about providing a positive, supportive and safe environment in the lives of women and women with children who are seeking to survive the poverty and violence of life. We invite you to join us for this very special occasion. Tickets: $15.00

Where: The Yale Hotel, 1300 Granville Street

When: October 26, 2006; 9pm Thursday

To purchase tickets or for more information call 604-606-0321 or e-mail knicolay@sjcss.com

Performers: * Cecile Larochelle * Sandy Scofield * Leela Gilday * Cheek * Nadine Davenport * Marianne Gritanni * Kat Wahamaa * Skeena Reece

Photos for "Mothers, Daughters, Sisters" Post (see one down)

2006-10-13T16:55:00.000-07:00

My daughter sent me the prose that comprises the Post below. I could not attach photos to it so i am trying to Post them separately.

This is one of me and my Mom, at the Protea Farm on the Road to Halleakala

My neice and her cousin at my wedding.

Hiking on Whistler Mountain (photo circa 1976)

Me and my gorgeous wee Girlie

Mothers, Daughters, Sisters

2006-10-13T16:40:00.000-07:00

A young wife sat on a sofa on a hot humid day, drinking iced tea and visiting with her Mother. As they talked about life, about marriage, about the responsibilities of life and the obligations of adulthood, the mother clinked the ice cubes in her glass thoughtfully and turned a clear, sober glance upon her daughter.

Don’t forget your sisters,” she advised, swirling the tea leaves to the bottom of her lass. “They’ll be more important as you get older. No matter how much you love your husband, no matter how much you love the children you may have, you are still going to need Sisters. Remember to go places with them now and then; do things with them. Remember that “sisters” means ALL the women…your girlfriends, your daughters, and all your other women relatives too. You’ll need other women. Women always do.”

‘What a funny piece of advice!’ the young woman thought. “Haven’t I just gotten married? Haven’t I just joined the couple-world? I’m now a married woman, for goodness sake! A grownup! Surly my husband and the family we may start will be all I need to make my life worthwhile!”

But she listened to her Mother. She kept contact with her Sisters and made more women friends each year. As the years tumbled by, one after another, she gradually came to understand that her Mom really knew what she was talking about. As time and nature work their changes and their mysteries upon women, Sisters are the mainstay of her life. After more than 50 years of living in this world, here is what I’ve learned:

This Says it All:

Time passes.
Life happens.
Distance separates.
Children grow up.
Jobs come and go.
Love waxes and wanes.
Men don’t do what they’re supposed to do.
Hearts break.
Parents die.
Colleagues forget favours.
Careers end.

BUT…

Sisters are there, no matter how much time and how many miles are between you. A girlfriend is never farther away than needing her can reach. When you have to walk that lonesome valley and you have to walk it by yourself, the women in your life will be on the valley’s rim, cheering you on, praying for you, pulling for you, intervening on your behalf, and waiting with open arms at the valley’s end.

Sometimes, they will even break the rules and walk beside you. Or come in and carry you out.

Girlfriends, daughters, grand-daughters, daughters-in-law, sisters, sisters-in-law, Mother, Grand-mothers, aunties, nieces, cousins, and extended family, all bless our life!
The world wouldn’t be the same without women, and neither would I.

When we began this adventure called womanhood, we had no idea of the incredible joys or sorrows that lay ahead. Nor did we know how much we would need each other. Every day, we need each other still.

Pass this on to all the women who help make your life meaningful.

Well, this is my humble offering for this week...

2006-10-07T11:03:00.000-07:00

Time for a New Post!

2006-09-26T09:26:00.000-07:00

Blogger won't allow me to upload photos, so i will just have to think of something else!....

hmmmm....give me a moment! - i was going to do a thing on "man's best friend" but i can't find that....

so this will have to do in the interim...

"If the purpose of repentance is to avoid making the same mistake again, the precaution is useless, for nothing in life happens the same way twice."

- Emilie du Chatelet

This was sent to me by a friend

2006-09-08T10:39:00.000-07:00

"Just because someone doesn't love you the way you want them to, doesn't mean that they don't love you with all they have.

Jim and Edna were both patients in a mental hospital. One day while they were walking past the hospital swimming pool, Jim suddenly jumped into the deep end. He sank to the bottom of the pool and stayed there.

Edna promptly jumped in to save him. She swam to the bottom and pulled Jim out. When the Head Nurse Director became aware of Edna's heroic act, she immediately ordered her to be discharged from the hospital as she now considered her to be mentally stable.

When she went to tell Edna the news, she said, "Edna, I have good news and bad news. The good news is you're being dischared. Since you were able to rationally respond to a crisis by jumping in and saving the life of another patient, I have concluded that your act displays sound- mindedness.

The bad news is that Jim, the patient you saved, hanged himself in the bathroom with his bathrobe belt right after you saved him. I am so sorry dear, but he's dead."

Edna replied, "He didn't hang himself, I put him there to dry. How soon can I go home?"

Vedder River Run - Part Two- Dogs and All!

2006-09-04T21:35:00.000-07:00

Well, some other people had discovered our "secret swimming hole" so i guess it is not much of a secret anymore. With my underwater camera safely strapped to my wrist, i quickly snapped this photo of them as the current carried me past them. (i'm in the water heading West down the river, and i think i'm facing South)

then, as i reached the end of the beach, to the left of this group, the river forks right and left, if one stayed right one would continue on down the river, where it starts to flow a lot faster, but we veered right, and it was from here that i took the photo that you see below. That is Lucy's daughter, standing beside the little tent i had erected, and i'm looking at the mountains in the East.

Managed to snap this photo of Lucy before she drifted past me! (i'm facing East in this photo, heading West down the river)

It seems like ages since i was last at the river in Yarrow. Four adults, 2 dogs and 2 little boys. Weather - perfect! Hot hot hot and sunny - then we had to wade through waist high water to get to our "secret swimming hole" - yikes, i thought i might have a heart attack. " COLD.... COLD....COLD....VERY COLD...was all i could say, what i really wanted to do was holler out loud, but i did not want my companions, way ahead of me and almost on the other side, to think i was drowning. The contrast from walking in the hot sun, then the icy cold water on one's midriff --- you know the cold that takes your breath away? - Whew!

Well, it only took us a few minutes to reach our distination....and i set up my camp with some drift wood branches and my batik cotton sarong (shade for the container of lemonade that Lucy had brought along)....and then we lounged, got very hot, cooled down (fast) in the river and dried out instantly in our beautiful surroundings. Later on in the day we were entertained by a man an his dogs - all five of them - one of them took a fancy to one of young women in our group, he came over to where she was lying on her towel on the beach, promptly sat down next to her, then proceeded to roll around on top of her, this great big St. Bernard, it was hilarious. She sat up laughing. The dog then returned to the water for a brief swim, but no sooner had she lay down again but he was there rolling all over her and covering her with mud and water. Too
bad i was not fast enough to get a picture of it, but i was laughing too hard. You can see one of the St. Bernard dogs in the right of this photo.

I was facing South, i think(??) when i took this photo

Make sure you check in the post below for Part One of the River Run!

Vedder River Run - Part One

2006-08-29T00:22:00.000-07:00

On the beach, on the extreme left of this photo you can see Lucy lying on the beach by our "day camp"

Two young "bathing beauties" (Lucy's daughter, and Lucy's son's girlfriend) , above, have found a perch each at the back of the root of the tree that you see in the next photo (this photo is taken pointing West). This is our somewhat "private" swimming hole. The river we float down is to the left of the beach (sand bank) in front of that long row of trees.

This is taken from our "day camp". The photo above this one is the back side of this root system. This photo is taken pointing South(?), i think, South East. The above photo is taken from the opposite side, pointing West.

Tyko and Lucy in the river,

PurdyDog on the bank. (She is not as adventurous as she used to be a few years ago). This is at the beginning of the "run" - just before we round a corner to end up where you see this couple standing, this next photo.

I asked this couple if they would mind if i took their photo; the current was quite strong as you will see in the next photo.

Here i am struggling not to fall down as the water rushes past my leg.

My Mission; Part One 'ON MEDITATION!'

2006-08-27T13:50:00.001-07:00

Meditation - "the need to calm the reptilian brain.... " - Matthew Fox

me and Chi Chi, my room-mate's Boa Constrictor
(photo circa 1970 something?)

"Feeding and taming the reptilian brain - put your anger into something creative"

"Fear can so overcome the human heart that it drives compassion out"

- Matthew Fox

from "Call Them Canadians"

2006-08-23T13:13:00.000-07:00

A photographic point of view
Produced by the National Film Board of Canada
(1968)

In the house of maimed desire
he will take your dreams of fire
and melt them into lead;
he will give you dancing girls
and colour nightmares red or
style a snake on your back
so the coiled cylinder moves:
his needle dances with light,
his eyes are heavy and black.

His eyes are smithies of night
forging dreams of fire
in the city's burning groves,
and his house of maimed desire
is the graveyard of your loves.

What is a Canadian
anyway? A mountain, a maple
leaf, a prarie, a Niagara fall,
a trail beside the Atlantic, a
bilingualism, a scarred mosaic,
a yes-no somehow-or-other maybe
might-be should-be could-be
glacial shield, grain elevator,
empire daughter imperial order of
man woman child or what?

poems by Miriam Waddington

Postcards from the Flying Four!

2006-08-18T20:52:00.000-07:00

they stopped in to visit one of their new arrivals, a second-cousin i think...

i'm not sure which one this is

The Pink Flamingos made a detour over this Mountain Range, i think somewhere near Japan?
They didn't give me any details.

Again, no details, but i think this is somewhere near Shanghai

Well, it seems like their final destination is the Westin Kauai Lagoons Hotel, wow, they aren't sparing any expense, eh? lucky birds!

Dreaming -- July 3, 2006

2006-08-15T15:04:00.000-07:00

I'm in Victoria, and I'm trying to find the Tax Department. It is raining and I am getting soaked. A tall, fat, blond man in a beige suit says he will help me, but the more he sorts through my papers the more muddled up they get, and his help turns into a terrible hindrance. I am getting very anxious and tell him i will just "be on my way", but he does not want to let me go. Then we are in a sort of enclosed yard, and we are joined by a young woman with dark hair. She seems very sinister and I try to get away, but they seem to have me captive. She says she wants to eat my pancreas. I become greatly fearful and then she pinches me really hard on both my hips -- at first i am very frightened -- and she pinches me again and it is very painful, but then i realized that is just what she wants, she wants me to be frightened. She seems to gain strength from my fears -- so i tell myself to relax, to flow with the pain, to embrace my impending doom -- and as i do so, she looses her power over me, and they both seem to disolve - then i wake up, but the dream has left me feeling very disturbed.

Growing Old and Wise With Grace

2006-08-09T22:43:00.000-07:00

After a while

You learn the subtle difference between

Holding a hand and chaining a soul,

And you learn

That love doesn't mean leaning and

company doesn't mean security

And you begin

To learn that kisses aren't contracts and

presents aren't promises.

And you begin

To accept your defeats with your head up

and your eyes open,

with the grace of an adult,

not the grief of a child.

And you learn

To build all your roads on today because

Tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans.

After a while

You learn that even sunshine burns a little if

you get too much.

To plant your own garden

and decorate your own soul, instead of

waiting for someone to bring you flowers.

And you learn

that you really can endure...

That you reall are strong,

and you really do have worth.

[This is a gift from The Gecho Bar & Grill in White Rock]

Toxic Emotions: The Clinical Data

2006-08-06T15:47:00.000-07:00

"...Yale researchers point out that it may not be anger alone that heightens the risk of death from heart disease, but rather intense negative emotionality of any kind that regularly sends surges of stress hormones through the body. But overalll, the strongest scientific links between emotions and heart disease are to anger: a Harvard Medical School study asked more than fifteen hundred men and women who had suffered heart attacks to describe their emotional state in the hours before the attack. Being angry more than doubled the risk of cardiac arrest in people who already had heart disease; the heightened risk lasted for about two hours after the anger was aroused.

These findings do not mean that people should try to suppress anger when it is appropriate. Indeed, there is evidence that trying to completely suppress such feelings in the heat of the moment actually results in magnifying the body's agitation and may raise blood pressure. On the other hand, as we saw in Chapter 5, the net effect of ventilating anger every time it is felt is simply to feed it, making it a more likely response to any annoying situation. {Dr. Redford}Williams {at Duke University} resolves this paradox by concluding that whether anger is expressed or not is less important than whether it is chronic. An occasional disply of hostility is not dangerous to health; the problem arises when hostility becomes so constant as to define an antagonistic personal style -- one marked by repeated feelings of mistrust and cynicism and the propensity to snide comments and put-downs, as well as more obvious bouts of temper and rage. [my highlighting]

The hopeful news is that chronic anger need not be a death sentence: hostility is a habit that can change. One group of heart-attack patients at Stanford University Medical School was enrolled in a program designed to help them soften the attitudes that gave them a short temper. This anger-control training resulted in a second-heart-attack rate 44 percent lower than for those who had not tried to change their hostility. A program designed by Williams has had similar beneficial results. Like the Stanford program, it teaches basic elements of emotional intelligence, particularly mindfulness of anger as it begins to stir, the ability to regulate it once it has begun, and empathy. Patients are asked to jot down cynical or hostile thoughts as they notice them. If the thoughts persist, they try to short-circuit them by saying (or thinking), "Stop!" And they are encouraged to purposely substitute reasonable thoughts for cynical, mistrustful ones during trying situations -- for instance, if an elevator is delayed, to search for a benign reason rather than harbour anger against some imagined thoughtless person who may be responsible for the delay. For frustrating encunters, they learn the ability to see things from the other person's perspective -- empathy is a balm for anger.

As Williams told me, 'The antidote to hostility is to develop a more trusting heart. All it takes is the right motivation. When people see that their hostility can lead to an early grave, they are ready to try.' "

pages 171 - 172, Chapter 11 Mind and Medicine, "Emotional Intelligence" by Daniel Goleman

Sweet Pickin's At Draggonfly Bog

2006-08-06T15:14:00.000-07:00

(photo by "Angeldust", Aug.2006)

On Thursday afternoon i went for my usual walk
around Dragonfly Bog. I took an empty 1L Yogurt
containter, hoping that i would get enough wild black
raspberries to make some jam. What i encountered
exceeded my wishes and abilities to contain, and as
i was picking i vowed to go back on Saturday.

Not only was i hugely rewarded by the quantity and
sweetness of the wild fruit, but i was greeted by many
shimmering dragonflies, damselflies and an assortment
of small birds. There was a light breeze which made
gathering comfortable, as the sun blazed down on my
hatless head. I was the only person in the little park, and
i felt so calm and content. As allways seems to be the case,
there were some berries beyond my reach, big ripe plump
ones that i really really wanted. As i reached through the
rails on the bridge spanning the small creek, i knew that i
had to draw back as i was risking tumbling into the sharp
brambles. The thought of me lying helpless, trapped in
the viscious thorns, made me laugh; i though of myself
crying out for help, life a pathetic troll, the late afternoon
strollers looking about, wondering from whence came the
catawalling. Sigh....i chuckle to myself now at the memory!

As i rounded the south bend of the Bog and headed for the
east side, i heard a tap tap tap tap.....tap tap...tap tap tap - well
kind of a sound that is between a tap and a knock, being not one
or the other...and i knew it could not be the workmen who are
building a complex of townhouses nearby. A WOODPECKER!!
Could it be? Excitement making my heart beat a bit faster, i
looked towards the trees straining my eyes to find it....it took me
awhile, so well camoflarlged she was. I'm sure it was a female
as i could see no colouration on this tiny bird. I stood transfixed
as she tapped away, marvelling at her tenacity and ability to
so diligently work at her task of gathering food, oblivious of my
own gathering of sweet fruit. Finally i had to move towards
home, as was becoming dizzy from the sun beating down on me.

But, filled with renewed energy and joy, i headed home, excited
about my project, knowing that the fruit i had collected
would yield only a small amount of jam. I was right, after
adding sugar, and a small amount of apple for some natural
pectin, the result was a 2 cup mason jar of slightly runny
fruit preserve. The next morning i decided to take a small taste
to "Angeldust", which is what you see in the above photo.

see also "Some of Life's Simple Pleasures" posted on August 2nd.

The Enchanted Forrest

2006-08-05T22:39:00.000-07:00

Kitchen window overlooking Sleepy Hollow

(my wierd "artistic rendering")

Ground View of the Enchanted Forrest, as
seen from a section of Sleepy Hollow

(photo by pj, circa 1994)

This is a "re-run" of a brief "essay" i wrote a while back. I'm thinking that some new readers might find it interesting.

(Aerial photo by Pj - 1995)

The Enchanted Forrest - realm of faeries and honourable ancestors, where i first locked eyes with Coyote. Eros came blundering through, in his carpenter's belt, his steel-toed boots covered with sawdust. Wielding his nail gun, he turned my whole world up-side-down; with his 50lb crowbar he roughly chipped away at the stone that was once my heart - slowly cracking open a small crevice into which the moonshine of love could penetrate. He whirled me so high i was dizzy and breathless; when i felt my whole being shattering, he threw me back down again. And so my journey began anew...[first published September 28/05]

Does Anybody Ever Really Know What Time It is?

2006-08-03T21:08:00.000-07:00

Taking a "cat-nap" in York (circa 1980 or thereabouts!)

Fond Memories

2006-08-03T11:36:00.000-07:00

at new sub-blog Persephonie's Parlour

Some of Life's Simple Pleasures!

2006-08-02T22:49:00.000-07:00

Hooray, my Blog is fixed. Now i can tell you about my walk today. After the Doctor's appointment i decided to go to Dragonfly Bog. Fortunately i had my car with me and in my car my travel mug, because at the beginning of my walk was the finest little bush of wild black raspberries, which i picked, thinking what a fine little desert they would make. The best thing about this was they are not only very tasty, but FREE!

As well as the wild fruit i saw a sweet little bunny, no bigger than my hand, who let me get quite close to him before hopping away. What a glorious day! I LOVE LIFE!

2006-07-28T11:31:00.000-07:00

"Attachment is blinding; it lends an imaginary halo of attractiveness to the object of desire"

- Sri Yuktesnar

2006-07-22T14:31:00.000-07:00

Love and the Goddess

"So through the eyes love attains the heart, for the
Eyes are the scouts of the heart.
And the eyes go reconnoitering
for what it would please the heart to possess.

And when they are in full accord and firm all three in one resolve,
at that time perfect love is born from what the eyes have made welcome to
the heart.

For as all true loves know, love is perfect kindness which is born, there
is no doubt, from the heart and the eyes.

- in the tradition of the Troubadour during the 12th Century"

Joseph Campbell, from the Power of Myth

2006-07-04T09:58:00.000-07:00

wow, i had the weirdest dream last night. -- my daughter (i think it was) and my ex- (i think???the details are a bit fuzzy) were going on a trip, we loaded up my Austen Healey and headed off to a watery campground. We had to take a small boat to this float where there was a huge house, it was kind of dangerous trying to transport our stuff onto the float and then we could not find the key to the house...everything was a bit of a blur, but the overwhelming feeling of the dream was one of anxiety mixed with excitement. Also, when i was driving my car i was having trouble with the breaks. This part of the dream is a recurring one, where i am driving my little green sports car and when i apply the brakes the car won't stop, but i never crash...there is always just this persistent anxiety.....hmmmmm.....

2006-07-02T10:40:00.000-07:00

HAPPY CANADA ALL!!! I completely forgot that i wanted to do this post for Canada Day, and i was out having fun in Langley....now i am pooped, so am resting at home, enjoying the sunshine and my office is already getting warm at 10:45 a.m.... Cheers all....

2006-06-30T08:53:00.000-07:00

from Left to Right: Flaming, Frilly, Fickle and Frivolous

my Flamingos have "flown the coop" for the summer, deciding to take in some of the world famous sights!!! heh heh

"WOW, our first close-up of Mt. Rushmore"

photo by Flamining Flamingo

2006-06-20T11:20:00.000-07:00

Blogger won't let me access My Pictures, and i need to have something new up....so i found these somewhere else in my computer....they will have to do until i can find the rest of The Mikado photos.

striking a "yoga" pose?

a whole line of "posers" here, in my mom's front garden. We had fun playing "dress-up" with all my mom's fabulous "Cruising" gowns!

" Family Fun"

"Granny" (my Mom) does not smoke, but we got her to pose with a ciggy, it was too funny, but since i cannot access My Pictures with blog, i can't find the one of her puzzling over what she has in her hand.

2006-06-14T21:55:00.000-07:00

this is it for now, i think it is not possible to post more than this many photos? anyway, more to follow....in the meantime....enjoy.....

DON'T FORGET TO CHECK OUT June 7th's post for more MIKADO photos!

2006-06-12T13:32:00.000-07:00

some of the cast and crew relaxing between scenes

"Nanki-Po" getting some help from Leigh

the Three Samuri doing thier make-up

one of the "three little maids" and her backstage
"Ladies in Waiting"

we had 5 minutes to get Jim into full make-up, there were actuall 5 of us working on him, although you only see three here, and of course, before i took the photos, i had to apply the white to his shaven head! what a riot....

2006-06-02T15:40:00.000-07:00

Grrrrrrrr. I was so mad (angry) yesterday....on the bus...coming home from the lovely birthday celebration that i had with my daughter and her boyfriend.

Sitting there minding my own business...but the driver was taking so long to leave the terminal because there was an elderly gentleman on the bus, and he seemed to not have enough money for his fare...so she was talking loudly at him, ...saying, "o.k. now, another 24 cents..." then i heard her say," o.k. now, another 3 cents. " This interacting had taken about 5 minutes, so, frustrated, i got up and went to put some of my own coins in, saying "oh for Christ's sake, what's a few pennies!!!".. . . she replied "Don't worry about it, i'm talking to him in Punjabi, trying to help him out." [well, i'm sorry but it did not appear so to me] ..anyway, he finally paid his fare to her satisfaction and the bus got on its way. Then a man accross the isle from me made a comment, about people not paying their fare, and i said: "don't jump to conclusions, you don't know that he might not be able to understand, have a little compassion"...and he replied that "these people don't deserve our compassion"...then a woman sitting right next to me threw in her 'two cents worth' of opinion, saying something about "these people" don't deserve to be treated nicely, or something to that effect. And then the whole conversation started turning nasty, about "this race" ( he was east indian), with him sitting right there and another woman, also east indian sitting next to him.

So finally i said to the man accross from me "don't even go there with me", and he tried to defend his position but i said i did not want to talk to him, then the lady sitting next to me piped up again with more racist comments, so i said: "stop talking to me like that, i don't want to hear it" and turned my head away, but she just kept talking, so i turned back to her and told her to be quiet, she said she was talking to the man (accross the isle), so i replied, directing my comment to both of them: "You are entitled to your opinion but i don't want to hear it, so be quiet". But they continued on, so i said: "You need to stop talking like this right now - there are laws in this country against this kind of hate mongering, ...you are entitled to to your own opinion and you can say what you like in the privacy of your own home, BUT - YOU - ARE- NOT - ALLOWED - TO - TALK - LIKE - THIS - IN - A - PUBLIC - PLACE, - SO JUST STOP IT RIGHT NOW! " The woman just looked at me in total amazement, then a young woman sitting close by said: "She's right you know, you are not allowed to talk like that in public." So they both shut up, and a kind of weird silence filled the bus.

I sat there, i think my face must have been flaming red, i was so furious, i could feel my heart pumping so fast. But i felt proud of myself for speaking up...usually i would just sit silent, feeling angry and disgusted, and probably gone home and stewed for days...but this time i said what i was thinking, and bugger the consequences! Now i feel so good. heh heh!

2006-06-01T21:15:00.000-07:00

waiting for my photos from The Mikado. I will not have the CD with all the photos on it until after the cast party on Sunday...so i am just posting this one of me being my usual silly self in the meantime...just to ease the boredom.

2006-05-16T10:06:00.000-07:00

(composition by pj April 29/06)

This is the "drawing" in it's entirity. The symbolic heart cracks open, bleeds, and from the drops of symbolic blood many beautiful things blossom and bloom; the result being the compassionate heart, which is green in colour....

....and so, the process continues....

but check out May 15 post below this one, as that is the beginning of this "story", so to speak...

2006-05-15T11:53:00.000-07:00

[revised May 16/06]

...the journey continues.... "...take another little piece of my heart and break it..." - Janice Joplin
This first rough sketch (1996) came out of my work at the Braveheart I Consciousness Raising workshop in Langley ....

...i kept it at the back of my brain, and in 1997 i flew to Denver for the Braveheart II workshop, and after 4 days of intensive meditation and soul-work we had our "Initiation Ceremony".

i have added to the image in my unconsciouse and in rough drafts of paper....

"
March 9/97 - "Soul Anchored but not merged. 3rd Initiation beautifully Soul Merged! - Congrats." - Patrichia

~~ oversoul 3 merges in with physical body ~~

2006-05-07T23:31:00.000-07:00

One of my impulsive extravagances;creates a nice erie glow, and may be a bit distracting to the motorists who pass by;

2006-05-07T23:18:00.000-07:00

the eggs were not viable, and the eagles have moved on...everyone at the Eagle Aerie is very sad...me too, i said it wasn't going to happen but it did... oh well, that's what happens when one becomes attached to "wild" things...it's risky business!

2006-05-04T16:21:00.000-07:00

I was watching Dr. Phil today, and i was again astounded at the high level of abuse, physical and verbal, that young women are willing to tolerate from their so called "loved ones" , but in particular, their boyfriends or husbands.

For weeks now i have been thinking about posting a story of something that happened to me in 1973 i think it was. One day i think, yeah, i'll post it, then the next day i change my mind...i think because i do not want to be perceived as a "victim", because i am not one. That is not to say that in the past i wasn't, because i certainly think i was. I was also very young and stupid, i engaged in risky behaviour without even giving it a second thought. I i think to some degree i was a bit of a "creep magnet". However, i am certainly not one now... (so i guess maybe next week i will publish the "scary story"...)

But in this day and age, when we have so much knowledge, how is it that women (and some men) are willing to tolerate so much abuse? And i know, i know i know i know, all about the "cycle of violence"...i just have a hard time believing that people cannot use their intellect to control their emotions. We can put our mind to anything, why do we not want to use our minds to give our emotions advice?

As the woman on the t.v. today was telling Dr. Phil about her boyfriend, who, even after he had beaten her up, and was actually doing jail time: she is saying: ".....but i luvvvv him" - i thought to myself, "oh brother, you stupid bitch, get a grip" - how uncharitible of me, eh? - anyway, when i heard her talking about how he said he would take her to the airport, but instead started to drive off in the other direction i remembered a guy i had once dated.

It was approx. 1975

I think we went out for a couple of weeks, and you know, being the '70s, things progressed quite fast, and soon i realized that this man was wayyyyy too possessive and controlling for me and told him i did not want to date him anymore. He was very upset, but i thought that he was accepting of my decision until he started to telephone me incessantly, at home and at work. I eventually let him wear me down, and agreed to meet him for lunch.

At this time i was working out at UBC, and had only an hour for lunch; he insisted on picking me up, and against my better judgement i agreed. I thought we would find somewhere close on campus to eat, but when he picked me up he drove off quickly, ignoring my protestations, and said he had a picnic lunch arranged and we could enjoy the sunny weather down at the beach, about a 10 minute drive away. (at this point i realized that i should have insisted that he meet me at the Pit or the Student Union Building but....oh famous hindsight!) I had no choice and when we got to the beach, there was no picnic lunch packed in the car, and all he wanted to do was maul me, and tell me how much he loved and needed me and attempt to persuade me that i should give "us" another chance.

I was adament, and had to fight him off, and as the hour wore on, and we both had to be getting back to work, (he worked downtown), he drove out of the parking lot, turned left and started heading in the direction of town. I said, "you're going the wrong way, where do you think you're going, turn around and take me back to work please." Totally ignoring me, he just kept driving very fast, and it was clear that he had no intention of taking me back to my work. I grabbed the stearing wheel, in the process ripping the finger nail off my pinky finger, and yelled at him: "Turn this car around damn it all and take me back to work!" He got such a fright he stopped the car, and said: "If you want to go back to work, you can just walk back"...so i quickly jumped out the car (you should have seen the surprised look on his face) told him to go to hell, and slammed the car door shut.

It took me about 25 minutes to walk up the hill back to the Alumni Association building where my office was; my co-workers were astonished at my sweaty angry appearance, and my bloddy finger, and fortunately my boss was on his own two hour lunch, so i did not get into trouble. But i was furious! And then when i got home, stuffed under the door of my apartment (and i don't know how he got in the front door) was a plastic bag. Inside was a T-shirt, a lovely soft cotton, good quality article of clothing. Right accross the front was written: #1 Bitch! and in those days, that was pritty inflamatory! oh, yes, and a note from him...."wear this with a smile".....hah, little did he know!!!! Friday night was coming up, party time at theYoung Alumni Club at Cecil Green (that was where i had first met him)

.....sooooo, i got all dolled up, my hair was just growing out nicely from when i had shaved my head, and was as soft and shiny as a baby seal hide. I wriggled into my new jeans, body hugging and smooooooth as velvet...put my best fitting, up-liftingest bra on, and pulled the new T-shirt over my head...scrutinizing myself in the mirror, i was impressed with how the word "Bitch" hugged my breasts...thinking to myself, "number one bitch eh, you don't know the half of it baby!" I LOOKED FABULOUS! Then i put on my beige trench coat, buttoned it up and headed out the door.

We (my girlfriend and i) arrived fairly early and the place was fairly empty and i could see he was not there yet. I propped myself up on a bar-stool, with a good view of the front door entrance, and ordered a drink. My friend wondered at my tightly-buttoned up coat and my mischievious grin... about 1/2 hour later i saw him come in, as he caught my eye, i stook up, un-buttoned my coat, and stuck my boobs out, and gave him my most dazzling and charming smile!!...followed by a wink...well, his expression was priceless! -- and he never bothered me again....

...and to top it off, that was the night i met my next boyfriend, an adorable 6' 6" hunka munka, but that's another story.....

...to be continued...

NB; I kept that T-shirt for many years, and on days that i felt fragile and insecure, i would put it on, smile, and be instantly transformed. I kept it until it was too small, and too tight and full of holes, and i had to throw it away. And many years later, when i had to leave my husband, i had another one made up, with the face of a lovely Doberman Pincer on the front, and below it the words: "The Bitch Is Back!" - but i don't have much use for it these days....

[I'm doing these posts now, because i don't understand why a lot of young women (and some men, as well as individuals in same gender relationships) are willing to put up with such "shit" just to have a relationship. I know i should be more patient, working in the field that is do, but given the knowledge we have about how violent bahaviour only escalates without treatment, i just get so frustrated with people who are willing to minimize abusive and distructive behaviour.]]

2006-05-03T11:45:00.000-07:00

Harper's new Budget: Stay-at-home mom's given Tax Break while single working mom's are "screwed"- a louzy 1% off the GST on stuff they can't even afford to buy!! - what's that all about? - discriminating against single mother? i smell a rat!

2006-05-02T18:02:00.000-07:00

(This is my very cluttered office space.)

2006-05-01T12:54:00.000-07:00

CAUTION: The following post may be disturbing to some readers.

FINDING “ SELF” – Yes…coming home to the Heart

First documented on March 1st, 2006

“Trying to find myself” … not a meaningless phrase from the ‘70s…no…literally trying to rediscover who I used to be [and who I was meant to be when that zygote first found it’s way down to planet earth] …before life’s experiences shaped me on a cellular level (i.e. as bad experiences touched me my body was affected at a cellular level). I realize now that I have not necessarily being “trying to recapture my youth”, because I am actually fairly content with who I am, in this moment. But I am trying to discover who I once was, before I was changed.

I AM trying to recapture that energy, that essence that joy and exuberance, that attitude that I see in this photo that was slowly and insidiously beaten out of me by an accumulation of negative and traumatic events. .. ..

...the first one occuring shortly after my father died...

Knowing the father was gone, and the mother was away at work... the monster slithered over our threshold, invading our family. Being careful not to slam the screen door, he stole into the kitchen, knowing that he would find his tender prey alone on those hot summer days…..

… he almost succeed in destroying me…because for a long long time I was “not myself”, and as I write this I realize that it is no wonder my family did not want to be around me.. They did not recognize me after what he did to me! They did not know what he did to me…because I did not know how to tell them…they could only wonder at my strange behaviour, (coming home to find me hiding in the huge laundry hamper) my temper tantrums, my surly grins, no longer the sweet, bright and shiny joy-filled playful child they once knew, they now confronted a dull little monster…

….darkness and dankness surrounded her, the soul smothered, the light in her eyes instantly snuffed out…and the fear…no one to blame but the monster who lurked outside, watching, as the others left the house…waiting until his prey was all alone. With all the stealth of a cat burglar he stole into the sultry still kitchen and only the creak of the screen door warned of his presence – too late…

Then, years and years of darkness – the mind crippled by fear, the body struggles to survive, driven only by sheer animal instinct, the autonomic system driving it like a locomotive – slow and heavy, relentless, mindless… the sympathetic nervous system locked into high gear, fragmented by periods of darkness and turmoil and tears.

The mother moans: “Oh where oh where has my little darling gone?”…not knowing the truth…not knowing that the person she thinks of as a friend has stolen her little girl away…and left this crazy husk in her place…

Angry tears, sad tears, bitter tears. And silence. Deadly silence and terror. Waiting and wondering. Caught up in a hailstorm of madness, with only glimpses of sanity…the child was shattered, pieces of soul scattered, broken shards of heart strewn about the universe …

…like an automaton programmed to perform its mindless tasks…left right left right, one two three step turn, on and on , on and on.

The clocks tick, the seasons change, but the frantic dance remains the same.

Cook, clean, sweep, “perform”,…cook, clean, sweep, weep, “perform”…weep, grin, march,; march through life’s agenda…the intrinsic self lost, ah but not forgotten, buried somewhere in this body as it changes into a teenager, then a woman…as the years go by…the lost woman wanders around in despair, - dancing, cackling, doing doing doing, keeping busy, “getting on with life”, running running, and wildly dancing to someone else’s tune - - yet somehow knowing she has to find her way home….home to herself…knowing that somewhere there is a beautiful sensitive creative being living beneath the damaged cells…how to purge the dis-ease that has created its insidious havoc in this once beautiful child of the universe?

…to be continued…

2006-04-30T00:11:00.000-07:00

ground view of the Enchanted Forrest, as seen from Sleepy Hollow

"...the lonnngggg and winding road...dah dah dhum...leads me there, to your door....."

Time for a New Post....but.....

2006-04-28T23:59:00.000-07:00

This is a re- Rerun, a true story that i like, and one that several readers have read before, but i'm too tired to write a new Post this week.

(Aerial photo by Pj - 1995)

The Enchanted Forrest - realm of faeries and honourable ancestors, where i first locked eyes with Coyote. Eros came blundering through, in his carpenter's belt, his steel-toed boots covered with sawdust. Wielding his nail gun, he turned my whole world up-side-down; with his 50lb crowbar he roughly chipped away at the stone that was once my heart - slowly cracking open a small crevice into which the moonshine of love could penetrate. He whirled me so high i was dizzy and breathless; when i felt my whole being shattering, he threw me back down again. And so my journey began anew...

[first published September 28/05]

2006-04-27T15:43:00.000-07:00

one slightly damaged heart.....
PROCESS.....PROCESS......PROCESSSS

2006-04-26T16:14:00.000-07:00

Photo by Maureen Donatelli (1989)

SEND ME AN ANGEL

" 'SPRIT CLOUD' was photographed in the summer of 1989, in the small town of Yarrow, BC, Canada. I had been out early in the evening, wandering around our farm, looking for anything that might make an interesting photograph. Feeling uninspired, I went back to the house. However, I was once again drawn out my back door with the determined agenda of finding something to photograph. Well, as you can see, I wasn't disappointed!

Upon reaching my driveway, I immediately turned to the west out of habit, when suddenly I felt an over-whelming urge to turn and look to the east instead. There floating so serenely over the trees at the end of the drive was the image you see before you. Since that moment, there hasn't been a day that has gone by that I haven't marvelled at this experience and the image it granted. It has changed my life immensely." - Maureen Donatelli

e-mail: davman@dowco.com www.stratium.ca/~spiritcloud

2006-04-23T11:25:00.000-07:00

APRIL 8TH, 2006
My Lone Memorial to Karen (1958 – 2006)

I shed a tear or two for my dear lost lost friend, who died on April 2nd . Cause of death “lifestyle choices”. Karen, sweet, highly intelligent, talented, energetic, funny and charming, witty and wild, strong but weak, determined but scattered….what was the demon that led her to her self-distruction…I may never know…she never could tell me…i'm having trouble crying because her life was so miserable...but...
Karen, I could not love you enough to save you from yourself.

When I first met you it felt like you were a long lost sister, or a child I had never had, the connection was instant and strong. We bonded in the very first second of our meeting. I imagined that you were my twin, separated from me at birth (oh my god, my body shudders at the memory, and I wonder if you are part of my soul group , and if I am going to die in a few days, or weeks, months, as members of the same soul groups do);…and I weep…oh god oh god oh god…I can feel your spirit hovering over me…and I understand the strange dreams of the past few days…and my unwillingness to record them…

Karen, You compelled me to do crazy things , self- distructive things…I was helpless - mesmorized by the spell that you cast over me …I still cannot fathom it…and so we had to part…while I could not be with you in physical time, I always carried you in my heart!

“It’s just three miles to the river that would carry me away… two miles to the dusty street that I saw you on today , four miles to my lonely room where I will hide my face, and half a mile to the downtown bar that I ran from in disgrace…. Lord, how long am I going to keep on running? 7 hours 7 days or 7 years?...All I know is, since you’ve been gone I’ve been drowing, drowning, feel like I’m drowning in a river of tears.

…Three more days ‘till I leave this town and disappear without a trace. A year from now maybe settle down where no one knows my face, I wish that I could hold you one more time to ease the pain but my time’s run out and I”ve got to go, got to run away again.

…Still I catch myself thinking one day I’ll find my way back here and you’ll save me from drowning, drowning in a river of tears. Oh how long must it go on?...” – as i was typing, Eric Clapton’s Drowning in a River of Tears started playing, and NOW the enormity of all this strikes me, and my body is wracked with grief...i cry and cry and cry...until i am worn out, my head is sore and my eyes are red and puffy...ugh! I DO miss you, Karen, my friend, but I could not save you….and no words can express how much pain that gives me.

“…hidden in secret heart are soul-deep scars
That cry out for heaven’s stars.” (from a poem written for me in 1974)

2006-04-20T11:01:00.000-07:00

"Snow White"

"...don't you love her madly as she's walking out the door..."

Love Her Madly by Doors

2006-04-15T11:52:00.000-07:00

HAPPY EASTER, YES!

. ..been eating too many marshmallow PeePs!! while sitting glued to the Eagle Aerie cam ...

Mandatory Meals for
Easter Time
(injest with caution

...or this may happen to you!)

2006-04-12T21:09:00.000-07:00

Chocolate
Anyone?

2006-04-11T14:23:00.000-07:00

ohhhh, PAIN PAIN PAIN.... our second belly dance class last night - what fun! - but i'm paying for it today..Mentally i feel great, but oh my! the shoulders, the arms, the left hip, YIKES....OH WELL...it WILL pass.

In the words of (i think) the Buddha: "...pain is inevitable, suffering is optional...so i got dressed to go out and enjoy the sunshine, only to discover that i had put my T-shirt on back to front...but it was too much effort to pull it up over my head again and change it around...so off i went with a low-cut back and high front neck, a wee bit uncomfortable...but oh well, WHATever....

..got a lovely whole wheat bread stick, fresh out of the oven of Cobb's Bakery, and since i have only myself to worry about right now, felt entitled to rip the top off and munch on a piece as i walked home. (i used to do this when i was a little girl: then i would get home and get into lots of trouble because i had mutalated the loaf of bread. - years after my oldest sister was still reminding me of this misdemeanour!!! -- lol) - now, it is MY loaf of bread, i reminded myself, and i am not going to get into trouble when i get home....ah, the simple joys of life! ---- trees, clouds, birds, sun on my face and a cool breeze messing my hair, and my own loaf of bread! }...sigh...{

2006-04-07T14:16:00.000-07:00

I found this book in a second hand shop in 2003 (approx.) - it was marked down from $51.99 to $11.99 - what a deal! - i read some of it then lost interest - life was busy and i did not have time to read much. Last month, when i was struggling with my health (or lack of!), my brother-in-law said: "I've found a new book, Emotional Intelligence, go to the library and get it and read Chapter 11..." i replied that it sounded familiar, so i searched my bookshelves, and there it was, burried under papers and magazines... so i have started reading it (again); i think it is worthy of a post, so here is a brief excerpt:

p.ix Aristotle's Challenge - "Anyone can become angry - that is easy. But to be angry with the right person, to the right degree, at the right time, for the right purpose, and in the right way - that is not easy" - Aristotle, The Nicomacbean Ethics

"It was an unbearably steamy August afternoon in New York City, the kind of sweaty day that makes people sullen with discomfort. I was heading back to a hotel, and as I stepped onto a bus up Madison Avenue I was startled by the driver, a middle-aged black man with an enthusiastic smile, who welcomed me with a friendly, 'Hi! How are you doing?' as I got on, a greeting he proffered to everyone else who entered as the bus wormed through the thick midtown traffic. Each passenger was as startled as I, and, locked into the morose mood of the day, few returned his greeting.

But as the bus crawled uptown through the gridlock, a slow, rather magical transformation occurred. The driver gave a running monolouge for our benefit, a lively commentary on the passing scene aroundus: there was terrific sale at that store, a wonderful exhibit at this museum, did you hear about the new movie that just opened at that cinema down the block? His delight in the rich possibilities the city offered was infectious. By the time people got off the bus, each in turn had shaken off the sullen shell they had entered with, and when the driver shouted out a 'So long, have a great day!' each gave a smiling response.

The memory of that encounter has stayed with me for close to twenty years. When I rode that Madison Avenue bus, I had just finished my own doctorate in psychology - but there was scant attention paid in the psychology of the day to just how such a transformation could happen. [my comment: Mindell would say that it has everything to do with what happend in "the field"] Psychological science knew little or nothing of the mechanics of emotion. And yet, imaginaing the spreading virus of good feeling that must have rippled through the city, starting from passengers on his bus, I saw that this bus driver was an urban peacemaker of sorts, wizardlike in his power to transmute the sullen irritability that seethed in his passengers, to soften and open their hearts a bit." - Daniel Goleman

and now we have the www.hancockhouse.com streaming bald eagle cam and people are united in their desire to get close to this magnificent gift of nature. (and i have to thank Larry and Willy at JACK-fm for giving me the info. re this site)

HAPPY SPRING EVERYONE!

Isn't life amazing? -- earlier today i forced myself to go for a short walk, inspite of the pain in my legs and hips, knowing that it would either make me feel worse, or with any luck, better ... but instead of going to Dragonfly Bog, i took my shorter, quieter, neighbourhood route as i also wanted to see if there was any activity in the big nest that i had seen a couple of weeks ago. As i rounded the corner at 105th Avenue and 156th Street i saw a young woman loading a guitar into her car, and asked her if she had seen any eagles in the nest. She said she had not and i replied: "A couple of weeks ago i saw one eagle flying around, but have not seen another since, but...." and i told her about the hancockhouse bald eagle site. To my amazement and delight she said: "I know one of the people who have something to do with that site, and saw it myself for the first time yesterday." She said his name is Trevor, so i am going to go to the forum and let Trevor know that i met someone he knows! - WHAT A HOOT! - well, that's all folks, now back to the daily grind of meal prep. etc. luv, pj

2006-03-25T11:39:00.001-08:00

As i blogged, i was listening to Eric Clapton's "When I look Into My Father's Eyes" -- i felt compelled to get up and look out the window at the clouds. In the distance i saw some birds riding the air currents ... they looked like they may be crows pretending to be hawks, so i ran and got my binoculars to get a better look; they were not crows, but they were moving higher up and farther away, and i could not discern whether they were hawks or teen-age eagles. So then i decided to do this post, and scanned the old photo of my dad and focused in on his eyes - i was so amazed to see how different his eyes look without his nose and mouth, and the rest of his face!!! WOW - and even as i edit and begin to publish this i feel something shifting in me....very interesting.... and it is o.k.

2006-03-20T13:04:00.000-08:00

"The form is secondary - what is the message?
- Joseph Campbell "The Power of Myth"

My daughter and her belly-dancing class mates. This gymnasium, for an enchanting 1/2 hour, was transformed into a temple of joy, and beauty and creative energy. (Thursday night, photos by pj, not for reprint without permission)

2006-03-17T17:03:00.000-08:00

Well, here, at least, is something green for St. Paddy's Day - Lucy's Fabulous Pickles - which are somehow symbolic of how i feel right now...in a Right Pickle! - finally managed, after about two hours, to upload the "Creative Commons Licence" onto my Blog, however, now i have it in three places and have not been able to edit the two extra ones out! oh well! [if anyone can help me that would be great] -- now i am going to fix dins. while i munch on one of these delicious edibles.......(photo by pj circa 2004)