I don’t like the beach, but I DO love this story!
Nobody does funny like Barb Taub, who manages to educate as she entertains!
There are writers whose work has a certain predictability about it. My guest today is one of them. I have learned to put down the coffee and place breakable objects at a safe distance when a post from Barb Taub comes up. It is very hard to drink coffee and laugh at the same time without redecorating the desk… Here Barb shares part of her latest adventure in India, with Jaya and Janine, who were her roommates at the University of Chicago forty years ago and who have remained close friends ever since…
Love is a promise, love is a souvenir, once given never forgotten, never let it disappear. —John Lennon
My family relies on a few basic sources for spiritual guidance—God, NewsHour on PBS, and the Beatles. So…
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Meet Bailey….sounds like a bit of a scamp!
A new writer on the blog scene…enjoy!
Good morning, everybody.
It is I, your favorite dog, Danny the Dog.
I thought I’d do something a little different this month and not complain about my human, Andrew.
He was very pleased to hear that news and even gave me an extra turkey slice this morning.
Right now he’s out celebrating his good fortune, which means I’ll have to bail him out of the drunk tank later this evening.
But enough about him.
Today, I want to talk about my new friend.
Her name is Aoibha Walsh. Aoibha is an Irish name and it’s pronounced Ava.
I’m told “BH” is pronounced like a “V” in Irish Gaelic.
Anyway, she is a pretty little Irish lass who is eleven years old.
She has a dog by the name of Bailey—here’s a picture of him.
I guess he’s okay if you like dogs.
Aoibha also has a cat and some kind…
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A delightfully honest post about….well, tradition vs progress. I say, whatever works for you, works. That’s my philosophy. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it!
Starting this post with a confession is quite hard to do, to be honest. But I decided to do it anyway:
I AM SCARED TO BE HOPELESSLY OLD-FASHIONED
I know you might laugh, but I’m terrified that I’m getting too old to be able to change my ways and finally give up my affinity to my paper agenda.
It is a beautiful agenda, teal colored with turquoise surroundings. It not only includes my annual agenda, but also a little paper notepad and an address book. It’s a COACH agenda and I’m very proud to have it. That thing is about 13 years old and I remember exactly where I bought it and why. And it’s about as heavy a gallon of milk.
I love it deeply and not only use it to write down appointments but also birthdays, addresses, things to do and things not to forget…
It is however really…
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A departure from the usual…good story!
She passed him every day. He was young, well built … and he was handsome. Just her type. She had tried everything to attract his attention. She had dressed provocatively, she had loitered, she had even taken a pratfall hoping he would come to her rescue, but some busybody stuck his big nose into her business by helping her up from the sidewalk where she lay waiting for Mr. Right to come to her aid.
In desperation, she came up with a plan. It centered on his profession. She would make some work for him and be there when he arrived. Then let him ignore her!
The plan was daring. A few blocks from where she saw him every day was an abandoned building; she would simply set fire to it and wait for her dream man to come to her.
You see, he was a firefighter. She walked past…
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I never tire of sharing a story by Mr. Joyce. Heartwarming and breaking at the same time.
I once had a girl. She was from Norway, but we met in New York City at a jazz club on the West Side. My friend Lane had dragged me there; he told me that the sax player would really send me. (I know, that is 60s lingo). I didn’t want to go because I was broke and I was embarrassed that Lane always picked up the check when we were out. But he persisted in asking, so I went with him that warm August night. It was a night that changed my life forever.
Lane and I were from upstate New York, we had been friends in high school. We were both going to be writers and write the Great American Novel. And here we were, Lane wrote copy for an ad agency and I wrote short stories that no one would buy.
I was twenty years old, and…
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Sounds lovely! And agree, wonderful book cover. Mosey on over to Marie’s site for more wonderful reviews of children’s books
Matthew Paul Turner (Author) | David Catrow (Illustrator)
YOU, you… God thinks about you.
God was thinking of you long before your debut.
From early on, children are looking to discover their place in the world and longing to understand how their personalities, traits, and talents fit in. Knowing that they are deeply loved and a unique creation in our big universe is certain to help them spread their wings and fly.
Beautiful, bright, and fun. This book is just bursting with life–from the front cover to the back. The paint splash background is gorgeous, and the leaping girl has a tangible energy. Really wonderfully illustrated and designed.
Wow. This book has so much LIFE! The illustrations are stunning, energetic, and gorgeous. I keep going back to look through this book because it’s just so beautifully illustrated.
What a wonderful way to build a child’s confidence…
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Thought-provoking, well-written guest post on the Ape’s blog. Find your way there to take in all the wisdom in Tina Frisco’s full post.
Image courtesy of Lucie Stastkova
What is love? Not romantic love, but the essence of love, pure and unadulterated. Pure love lightens and enlightens. But what is it? In truth, love can’t be defined; we can only talk around it. In attempting to de-fine it, we con-fine it and thus lose it. Love simply is. And love is our true nature.
What is the opposite of love? Many would say hate. Seems logical, right? When we’re not sitting in love, expanded and with an open heart, we’re struggling to keep our heads above the quicksand of raw emotion. Truth is: the opposite of love is fear. All that isn’t love stems from fear. Love and fear are our primeval baseline emotions.
So what is this seemingly ubiquitous, all-consuming emotion we call fear? When we constrict – when our hearts close, our muscles tighten, our thoughts ricochet, our spirits dim – we sit in…
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