Silver Morn

Water and ice,
Dripping and freezing on
Lichen-covered branches
Crystalline silver on pale not-green

What is the color of lichen covering the trunk, branches and bare limbs of the maple trees outside my window?
To those of the wood, it is
Familiar; identifiable; recognizable.
The undergarments of northern woods,
Exposed on branches laid otherwise bare by autumn.
Creamy, pale, velvety.
Definitely not green. But what?

I see now how well it matches the color of the walls here in my living room.
That was not intentional.

Sea foam green. Perhaps.
Though in all my years living near and gazing at the sea,
I've seen the ocean's many colors,
Angry and dark, deep greens and blues
Playful sheets of shimmering light
But I've never seen the ocean render the color we call sea foam.

Psych ward green. Perhaps.
Cool, calming.
But no, it is far too sensual for such attribution.

Upon such examination & reflection,
I shall never see the branches as bare again.
The trees exposing their dainties when they drop their leaves for the winter. The hardwood forest a giant burlesque show that opens each fall and runs until spring
Shy and demure in a gentle snow,
Raucous and wild as a nor'easter blows blizzard-like across the canopy

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Christmas Prayer (or Pastor's Lament)

I lay me down, not sure the reason,
For I can't sleep in Christmas season
When all around me, here and there,
Apathy hath filled the air.
Come Christmas Eve or Christmas morn
Its not about the Savior born
Fellowship? Good News spread?
That egg nog's gone right to your head!
Good pastor, you this Church must grow
But don't disturb the status quo
(Especially the Christmas Show,
It's very special, don't you know?)

Good Christians all (I'm pretty sure)
Come walking weekly through our door
And rush to chat up the rare new face
That finds its way into God's place
Did I say God? Oh, heavens me!
What I meant was Church Trustee.
But just for now I simply pray
That God will grant another day
That I might use to do His will
And grant me sleep, that's better still!
I'll take His testing 'round the clock
For the privilige to guide His flock.

Non

How many years has it been since something like togetherness had passed between the two? Without empathy, each retreats to his and her own inner sanctum. Except the one is oblivious to all of this, for she thinks only in the here and now, the moment of cause and effect. And the other sees it all too clear, the big picture and future consequence in all its miserable minutia. One is reductive while the other is deductive. She lives in the now, dissolving quickly into the past. He lives in the now, sliding relentlessly into the future. Both are miserable in the now. But while her loose connection to the present allows her to just roll over & go to sleep, as if nothing ever happened, his long view to tomorrow's horizon connects this daily misery into an endless, unbroken stream.

Last Walk (Warm Adirondack White Night)

Clingy and moist, white as linen, a warm snow has settled like frosting at Cedar Eden and turned the landscape into the proverbial picture postcard. A snowplow roars down at Donnelly's Corner, splashing yellow through the trees as it maneuvers to clear the broad way. Light from the house and from the garage illuminates the scene, reflected on the fresh, new snow. Warm and calm - Adirondack t-shirt weather - and the whole outdoors has that "new snow" smell, so much more satisfying than that "new car" smell. The dogs sniff footprints, then head for the front door, young dog bounding, old dog limping along. Last walk of the night over, we all settle in, each of us curled up in our favorite spot, slowly drifting to sleep in the comfort of wood stove warmth.

Full Moon No Sleep

Mind still whirls at 3AM. Night rests dimly alight, full moon pale on thin clouds and a dusting of snow, like candlelight on plaster and alabaster, pearloid and mother of pearl. Or like the ineffective light switches of childhood nightmares, throwing darkened rooms into brooding, shadow-filled caverns.

In odd contrast, my dog sleeps snugly against my left leg, her breath occasionally whistling through her nose with a sound remarkably like the call of the Eastern Meadowlark. Heavy sigh, quiet snuffling like a pygmy wart hog, and the mood casts again from spring meadow to Frau Blucher's dungeon.

When dimly lit, winter night shadows are the deepest Ektachrome blue. But I can take no more, and must somehow salvage an hour or two of sleep. And so hit send, with further analogies left un-analogyzed.

The World: You. Me. Life.

Do we live in a simple world or a complicated world? I think we live in a world we simply, as in unnecessarily, complicate. I feel blessed that once or twice in my life I have been able to pierce that vail of unnecessary complication and open the eyes, soul and heart of another . . . to connect deeply, completely. It isn't easy to rip open the bubble that keeps us from achieving the possibilities of the here and now. It is even more difficult to convince a kindred soul to rip through hers so that you may each stretch out your arms and truly grasp unfetterred love. A foggy night on a city bridge where nothing but love shouts to the skies and slowly wins over the reluctant partner. Poems and stories shared, unveiling a love whose breath never coincided to light the embers of a hidden, shared fire. A cautious, reluctant dance of words around music: two worlds, one passion.

Life, the world, is simple. We complicate it every time we put up a barrier to connecting heart to heart. Heart to heart, it burns united, it rips shredding agony when pulled apart, but stokes the furnace of life if simply allowed to burn its natural course. For me, its never been that fabled two hearts as one for ever and ever. Yet, I gladly carry the pain and scars for the loves that have been.

I love the idea of love.

Me. You. Something. Here. Now.

Time - Passage

I dream I sat astride a silver horse
And faced ahead a wide, shallow river
The river, my life, as an hour glass,
Far too much sand in its base,
Far too few grains left to fall.

In my hands, the reins,
My pockets, small stones.
I knew my path lay ahead,
But did not, and do not, know
In whose hands a must place these stones.

Unremarkable in color,
Like worn granite river cobble.
But I must cross the river, alone
And I must distribute the stones before I cross.

No one in sight,
Do I simply scatter them into the water
Hoping one day another shall pick this stone or that stone up and take it along its next journey.

Do I somehow hang on, weak, alone,
And wait for the hand in which I'll know each stone is a perfect fit?

And risk failing to even cross the river, let alone distribute the stones my God has placed in my hands?

Is that damnation?
Is that hell?
A life of purpose unfulfilled?

I see now what I have always known:
Love is larger, grander, than all of us.
Love transcends all.
Love is where we all meet.

I tried to share that window of love with a few,
In the end, it was always destined to fail
in human frailty and in human fault
And in human fear to simply let go and feel what is right

I welcome soon that total immersion in love,
Nothing short of what we all seek,
But only find at the curtain call of this existence.

Orion

The Milky Way lay draped
Across Orion's broad shoulders,
Directly overhead.
The swordsman stands
Knee-deep in star-studded velvet,
As an elk standing
In the dew-strewn dawn of a forest's deepest moss.

Rain falls

Rain falls

and

The whole earth cries.

I don't know if it cries in pain
Or of loss.

While crying,
It rarely matters.

I fall
and
No one cries.
Way beyond the skinned knees
And scraped up, gravel-embedded palms of my youth.

When I fall now,
Shit happens.
Or, sometimes, shit doesn't happen
And THAT makes shit happen.

When did I park my monkey bike
And trade cards in spokes
For iron and steel,
Roaring fucking hot metal?

What's the Deal with Moonlight?

What's the deal with moonlight?
Does it really shine on me and shine on you?
Does it bring us together across the chasm of time and space?
Casting good fortune?
Brightest on the darkest nights.
Smothered by the meekest candle,
Never seen on city streets.
You can look at the moon from anywhere
But, cheerful as the moon may be,
You can only catch moonlight
In the darkest of places.

Magical is moonlight
As it shines across your breasts
Your skin, like alabaster, glows pale and smooth
And calls to me
to lay a gentle touch upon your breast
A joining of energy, powerful, poignant.

. . .

I think this poem of sorts is yet unfinished.
You can only catch moonlight
In the darkest of places.

Out there

It is good to know that
Somewhere out there
there is someone who cares,
Someone who loves me
Just as I am
Someone who wants me.
Someone who desires me,
Someone who loves me,
Wants to be with me,
To hold me, to touch me.

It is good to know
But
It doesn't make THIS time
Any easier to bear.

Who would choose to spend
The last hours of their life
Unhappy, unfulfilled, unloved, unloving?

Two Forty Five AM

The sky like blue slate
Bare limbed trees in silhouette
As veins in marble

Haze obscures like smoke
Wind shifts and translucence
Reveals itself as fine snow
Snow meal, as my Nana would have called it

Care, Shared: The Granola Girl Chronicles

I long for a life
Happy & filled with love
Back to core values
Music and romance
Sharing each moment
Loving & the love
of a granola girl

Decades ago
That descriptor was used in derision
But life and love and you
Altered my focus
Changed my vision
Has me longing for the love
of a real granola girl

Honey sweet
Perhaps a bit nutty
But honest and creamy
Eternal desire to be one
Skin on skin
Eye to eye deep
Bare completely to the soul

Just the thought
Of close proximity
Breath falters
Heart flutters
Mind races
Hands long for
Touch

Care, shared

Autumn Skyline | Fall, Downstate

Hillside oaks in late October,
Set aglow by a low-slung sun;
A skyline of crystalline amber
Poised against a backdrop
Of silver blue and wispy white

Religious TV Today - There should be a WHOLE LOT OF SMITING GOING ON!

So I am unwinding after my early Praise Service and decided to flip through the religious channels on DirecTV. There are a lot of choices at 10:30AM EDT. Every one - EVERY ONE - but two asked for money within 2 minutes of turning to the channel. And MOST within 30 seconds or less. It is wrapped up in false Christianity - don't you know the Lord WANTS you to have EVERYTHING you want. Wow! Such crap, such false teaching.

Here are the networks and the shows:

• Fox - Hour of Power (ready to start a new life  with God, call now!)
  
• Inspirational Channel - Turning Point (get books and stuff with your gift - "order today")
• God TV - Missions Week - (a new season of giving for a new level of media ministry)
• World Harvest TV - (my favorite, God's diet plan!)
• Daystar - Ed young TV  (i want you to connect with us/partner with us)
• The Church Channel - Medina Pullings (buy Dr. Pullings book)
• TBN - Pastor Ed young, Sr. (come to their Holy Land Experience Theme Park!)
• Word - Armor of God - come to our revival
  

Only TWO aren't direct marketing:

• EWTN - Faith and Culture (analysis of various religious views); One World Praying (leading the world in prayer - today it is Catholics and The Rosary) - I;m going to take down my Rosary and learn about Fatima
  
• BYU TV - Brigham Young University network (well, they are pushing just THEIR version of Christianity and THEIR University
  

 Isn't ANY wonder that the unchurched are turned off? Think about it. This is probably the ONLY religion that many people are exposed to,  and only as they quickly turn to and say "Oh, see, there they go again. Just asking for money."

Imagine the Heavenly Host looking down and tuning in. . . .

• It makes a pretty good argument for their IS NO GOD! 
• There should be a whole lot of smiting going on!
  

Lifespan, darkly

I've been thinking . . .
we humans may be nothing more
than glorified mayflies.
To the mountain, or even the stately white pine,
our lives flash by,
jittering to and fro by fate,
like monarchs soaring on the vagaries of the wind.
We control nothing but the general bearing
and,
perhaps,
to some extent,
the distance traveled.

"More to Love" Author/Artist Addresses Woman's Body Image Acceptance in Today's Culture

Everyone needs to read the well-spoken, well-studied Author of "More to Love," Elizabeth Patch, in her latest interview by Woman Globally as she discusses acceptance of body image for women in today's culture.

Check it out at http://www.wwomenglobally.com/elizabeth-patch-author-of-more-to-love-i-promote-self-esteem-and-positive-body-image-for-women-of-all-sizes/

The Over 40 Guide to Survival©

Bookmark this post (http://cedareden.blogspot.com/2009/10/over-40-guide-to-survival-c.html) - I will continue to add to it as I get more. Feel free to add your own in the comment section!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shirts are made to be tucked in. If you have a paunch, get used to it. You aren't hiding anything by leaving your tails out.

~~~~~~~

Get used to hair. More hair on your chest could be a plus. But damn, do something about hair on your ears, in your ears, and shagging out your nostrils!

~~~~~~~~

Learn to iron and care about how you look. Ironing isn't so difficult and here are the major things you need to know. Get an iron capable of making steam. Get a real ironing board and ironing pad (ironimg board cover).

Take a look at your shirts. Set the iron heat to match the material of the shirt (on a color or side tag). Cotton for cotton, polyester for polyester (throw that shit out!). Usually you can get away with ironing a few key places. Iron down the button strips on both sides, using a blast of steam to help. (Hold iron against material and press steam button - read the owners manual).

By the way, the ironing board is shaped like a torpedo for a reason. If you place the collar end of your shirt at the pointy end of the board, everything fits nicely.

So, continuing on with your shirt. After you iron the button strips, iron the front ONLY if it is wrinkled badly. Check the sleeves. They will often need a touchup, especially at the ends. Be sure and line up so a straight line runs from top of shoulder down to cuffs. You may only need to iron the cuffs. Sone short sleeve shirts have cuffs and these often wrinkle.

Lastly, iron the collar. Lift it up flat with back of shirt, lay it out smooth and blast it with steam. Fold collar back into place and press it into place using your iron.

There. Unless your shirt is a total wrinkle ball, then you are ready to head out Looking Good! By the way. If you remove your clothes from the dryer as soon as they are dry, they can be less wrinkled. Hang your shirts on hangers while still warm and button every other button and make sure to button the top button.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An Over Forty Fact of Life: It is hard to find your glasses without your glasses.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Help Pick Songs for Upcoming Benefit Concert

I am performing at an upcoming benefit concert for Rett's Syndrome, August 17 at Harrietstown Town Hall in Saranac Lake. I am limited to 12 minutes which is three songs. The YouTube Playlist has four songs. Option 1 is songs 1 - 3 (Knockin on Heavens Door, Honeybee Song, Summer Fading. Option 2 is all originals, songs 2 - 4 (Honeybee Song, Summer Fading, For Emily) - If you hover over the playlist video window below, you will see the four songs listed as small thumbnails.

Please comment and let me know your preference. Thank you.

More info:

See http://www.girlpower2cure.org/rockinforrett/emma and http://www.adirondackdailyenterprise.com/page/content.detail/id/508892.html for more information about Rhett's Syndrome and the upcoming Benefit Concert in Saranac Lake

Mathew's Soccer Game Slide Show

Mathew and the Saranac Lake High School Varsity Soccer at Ausable Valley - October 6 2009
(give it a minute to load)

Biography

I am at
The Biographical Crossroads
Of me life.
I see too well the handwriting on the page.

Maturity outpacing happiness
Decision outweighing action
Daily life souring limelight

Roles changing as family grows.
Health roulette, the hidden foe.
No longer the target audience,
Left behind as the wave of life roars onward
Pray only that life abandons me upon the shore of a pleasant desert isle

Autumn

Sunset orange
Pumpkin skies
The air like
Frosted pumpkins
Adirondack Autumn

Old Dog

Old dog
Sleeps

Old dog
Moves slowly

Old dog
Stretches

What does old dog think?

Why, old dog?
Why old dog.
Why anything?

Time travel, slowly,
Is old dog
Is why old dog

Time travel
Slowly
In real time
Is not travel at all

If each us is stationary
If each us is alone unmoved
As all else moves around each instance of a nuclear us
What is it where we intersect?

Can we tilt our paddles
into the water of time
And alter our speed or direction?

What is left behind
When old dog dies?
What where when?

Danger, Will Robinson

Little Big Love

Crazy good stop-motion animation about a little robot. . .

Little Big Love is an award winning stop-motion short in which a tiny robot falls in love with an electric kettle. The whole project was written, directed, and animated by Tomas Mankovsky with a total budget of less than $500. - Geeks are Sexy -

The creator's Little Big Love website offers the movie in hi-def and also includes a cool "the making of" photo essay.

Little Big Love from Tomas Mankovsky on Vimeo.

Source: BotJunkie

Insects Beware! Miniature Swarm Robots

Way cool! Micro-swarm robots! or is that Swarm Micro-robots? (the given name, "i-swarm" is pretty lame - someone needs to kill that "i" before everything meme).



http://www.botjunkie.com/2009/08/31/i-swarm-micro-robots/

Humanoid Robot Olympics

Check out this robot pulling a basket full of bottles. The designers really did a good job emulating human pulling.

http://www.botjunkie.com/2009/09/01/humanoid-robot-olympics/



Source: BotJunkie

Monty Python Man Lives!

After all these years, the Monty Python "It's" man has been spotted squatting on a nude beach in an undisclosed location. Or perhaps this is his son! Either that or he has been using a LOT of Grecian formula!

Night Vision

Dark swirls on purple grey
Dance across my vision today.

With closed or open eyes I see
This pattern that envelopes me.

T'is not a poem of darkness & woe
But my own personal light show.

{Lay in a darkened - but not pitch black - room and stare unfocused at the ceiling. Do you see purple and lime-yellow swirls? I've seen them as long as I can remember & figure its just an artifact of our optic sensory apparati and nerves}

Night Song, North Carolina

Seventy two degrees.
An air conditioning unit kicks off and I can finally hear the night calls clearly.
Insects I can't see and can't identify.
The night song is truly an orchestrated cacophany.
It takes real concentration to separate the individual songs.

Various forms of crickets sing:
One group in rapid, high-pitched chirps: 1-2-3-4 1-2-3-4
Others sing one long trilly sustain without pause
While another crickety thing sings a glassy trill at the beginning of each measure: 1-x-x-x 1-x-x-x

Something bigger, percussive, like castinets, or a muted snare: ta-ta-ta-ta - 3-4 ta-ta-ta-ta - 3-4
Answered quickly by the same critter in call & response fashion: 1-2 ta-ta-ta-ta 1-2 ta-ta-ta-ta

Together, they play continuously:

ta-ta-ta-ta ta-ta-ta-ta
ta-ta-ta-ta ta-ta-ta-ta
cr- cr- cr- cr cr- cr- cr- cr- cr- cr- cr- cr cr- cr- cr- cr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

And so many more parts, layer upon layer.
No conductor, no stage, no footlights burn
And yet this orchestra plays nightly
Wherever it is summer, wherever it is warm
No reservations needed
And yet, the appreciative audience so often a crowd of one?

Greensboro North Carolina @ 12:30 AM

After a very, very long day, I've gone outside with a drink, a kindle, and a bag of Utz chips. Rather than tackle the bigger issue of trying to understand women, when my brain is swiss-cheezed from 10 hours behind the wheel, I'm going to lose myself in some sci-fi, with a tequila chaser.

Aaaargh!

Thoughts while parked at Chapel Pond

I think this is the first time I've every really parked at Chapel Pond.

People come and go as I sit here parked, astride my bike, and pass me by. They are probably thinking I am, like them, just another visitor to God's beautifully endowed Adirondack Park; unaware that I live here and am, if I say so myself, somewhat of a minor local celebrity. I guess I can live with that, though I've never liked being "part of the crowd."

It is so funny to see all these people disembark from their vehicles and strap on all their "going to the Adirodacks" accouterments from places like LL Bean and Eddie Bauer. Heaven forbid they don't look the part, tackling the wild frontier!

Chapel Pond at 8AM

Chapel Pond,
Through the branches of black spruce;
The far shore alight in new day's sun,
Reflected in still waters,
Like hand-blown glass.

At last the sun
Clears the ridge behind me
And the foreground lights up like a stage;
Yet deep shade beneath the spruce canopy provides drama still.

•~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~•

The cliffs that tower over the road
Across from Chapel Pond
Are impressive in this light.
Like rough and rugged slag and steel,
All shades of grey,
Cedar and spruce clinging tenaciously
In its cracks and crags.

The sun warms quickly now
And the sky clears to one solid, majestic shade of brilliant blue,
Unadorned by mist and cloud,
Paled only near the white-hot sun.

And so the day begins!

•~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~•

The sun rises
And everything changes.
We are renewed by each new day.
We are the same
And we are different.
A better person: for this I pray.

Cascade Lakes, Near Pitch-off, 7AM, August 14, 2009

Golden sunlight blasts sideways
Into a rising, fading mist.
Green mountainsides strangely yellow in the dawning light.
A few cheery birds sing
Hidden nearby in a forest of trees.

Close, and sudden, a loon cries out
And dives as I turn to see,
Leaving me alone,
Astride my bike,
Enjoying a warming breeze.

Night, in a Frontier Town

The clocks in town all chime nine,
Ringing through fog rising off the river
And enveloping upper Broadway.

Sunset once again painted the west
In shades of salmon and creamsicle,
But now there is just a starless, darkening sky.

A lone planet pierces through the mist;
A gaurdian of the cosmos.

The chimes fade,
And the streets of Saranac Lake are left
With the muted sounds
Of voices, traffic, and music:
Still a frontier town, in 2009.

Clouds

Clouds
Salmon pink at sunset.
A mist rises
Over a still bog.
Crickets chirp
But nothing moves;
Not the clouds,
Not the mist.
Funny how
Nothing moving
Moves us so.

The Complete Whompers YouTube Playlist

Click Side Arrows to scroll through playlist.

The Whompers on Facebook

The Whompers on Facebook

Glitch Unplugged on Jamendo

I've added portions of my CD "Glitch Unplugged" to the Jamendo website, a site were Creative Commons licensed songs can be downloaded for free. Commercial use requires the purchase of rights, but there is a lot of great music in a wide range of genres on that site.

Life, Entropy & Eco-Economics

Life is like eco-economics, where what you take from the system has to be balanced by what you give in to it; balanced or exceeded to create that anti-entropic surge which characterizes all creative life.

(In "Red Mars" by Kim Stanley Robinson)

Travelin' & Music

Can a fellow still hit the road with a guitar and a song and make any sort of living?
Or, do you suppose you'd need to be self-sufficient and just call it an adventure or vacation?

I look around, and wonder,
Where would you play? Where would you stay?
Even here in our little vacationville, Saranac Lake,
relatively musician-friendly . . .

Sources for Free Music

Check out my delicious feed for bookmarks - http://delicious.com/CedarEden

Here are two of the latest - GREAT sources for free & legal music (mp3)

Amazon.com: Free - Songs: MP3 Downloads - hard to believe but Amazon.com MP3 has tons of good music available for free

Free and legal music downloads - Jamendo - oodles of great stuff, lots of different genres

Some COOL Windows Stuff

Watch Star Wars Episode IV in Your Command Prompt for Free

Open a Windows Command Prompt
Go to Start > Run. In the Run box, type “cmd” ( without the quotes ) and hit OK to open the command prompt windows.
Within command prompt, type “telnet towel.blinkenlights.nl” ( without the quotes ) and hit ENTER.

** For MAC users, go to Terminal and type “telnet towel.blinkenlights.nl” (without the quotes).
** Try Windows Power Toy >> Open Command Promt Here << style="font-weight: bold;">Hidden Windows XP Stuff

Useless countdown clock - c:/windows/clock.avi

Nice Ambience Windows Music - C:\windows\System 32\oobe\images\title.wma

God's Pharmacy - You Are What You Eat

I don't really go in for this kind of crap circulating around via email . . . but its kinda cool. Maybe it is just the pretty pictures. . .

It's been said that God first separated the salt water from the fresh, made dry land, planted a garden, made animals and fish... All before making a human. He made and provided what we'd need before we were born. These are best & more powerful when eaten raw. We're such slow learners...

God left us a great clue as to what foods help what part of our body! God's Pharmacy! Amazing!

A sliced Carrot looks like the human eye. The pupil, iris and radiating lines look just like the human eye... And YES, science now shows carrots greatly enhance blood flow to and function of the eyes.

A Tomato has four chambers and is red. The heart has four chambers and is red. All of the research shows tomatoes are loaded with lycopine and are indeed pure heart and blood food.

Grapes hang in a cluster that has the shape of the heart. Each grape looks like a blood cell and all of the research today shows grapes are also profound heart and blood vitalizing food.

A Walnut looks like a little brain, a left and right hemisphere, upper cerebrums and lower cerebellums. Even the wrinkles or folds on the nut are just like the neo-cortex. We now know walnuts help develop more than three (3) dozen neuron-transmitters for brain function.

Kidney Beans actually heal and help maintain kidney function and yes, they look exactly like the human kidneys.

Celery, Bok Choy, Rhubarb and many more look just like bones. These foods specifically target bone strength. Bones are 23% sodium and these foods are 23% sodium. If you don't have enough sodium in your diet, the body pulls it from the bones, thus making them weak. These foods replenish the skeletal needs of the body.

Avocados, Eggplant and Pears target the health and function of the womb and cervix of the female - they look just like these organs. Today's research shows that when a woman eats one avocado a week, it balances hormones, sheds unwanted birth weight, and prevents cervical cancers. And how profound is this? It takes exactly nine (9) months to grow an avocado from blossom to ripened fruit. There are over 14,000 photolytic chemical constituents of nutrition in each one of these foods (modern science has only studied and named about 141 of them).

Figs are full of seeds and hang in twos when they grow. Figs increase the mobility of male sperm and increase the numbers of sperm as well to overcome male sterility.

Sweet Potatoes look like the pancreas and actually balance the glycemic index of diabetics.

Olives assist the health and function of the ovaries

Oranges, Grapefruits, and other Citrus fruits look just like the mammary glands of the female and actually assist the health of the breasts and the movement of lymph in and out of the breasts.

Onions look like the body's cells. Today's research shows onions help clear waste materials from all of the body cells. They even produce tears which wash the epithelial layers of the eyes. A working companion, Garlic, also helps eliminate waste materials and dangerous free radicals from the body.


This candle was lit on the 15th of September, 1998. Someone who loves you has helped Keep it alive by sending it to you. Don't let The Candle of Love, Hope And Friendship die! Pass It On To All Of Your Friends and Everyone You Love!

More thoughts on life and love

Life is an ongoing quest for love. We find it where we can, too often take it for granted when we have it, and ache for it when it is missing, perhaps having been ripped from us, seemingly without reason.

And yet, though life may be short, love is ever fresh each time it sparks anew.

Therefore, let us not waste time playing games, conforming to some meaningless code of conduct, when we suddenly find ourselves staring deep into the eyes of love.

Rather, gaze deep into each other's eyes. Savor small gestures and thrill to each gentle touch as it lights the spark of fresh, new beginnings. Be open to the possibility of love as you linger in each other's presence. Reach out yet be receptive.

Love.

Live.

Evening at Fish Creek

Evening draws nigh,
Dark boughs against pale sky.
High thin clouds
Stretched like gossamer
Across towering pines.

The rythmic strains
Of an Irish fiddle floats
Like wood smoke on the water
Across Fish Creek Pond

Children circle
And dance
And spin
Like colonial algae.

Each New Day is More of the Same (or How I Woke Up on the Wrong Side of the Bed, Again)

The earth spins at 1,000 mph & cruises 'round the sun at 67,000 mph, and our solar system revolves at 558,000 mph, so why is each new day just more of the same?

Well, that's not exactly true, because today, at least there is no rain. The sky is clear, and the sun shall be allowed to warm the earth. The succession of ridges and mountains across the horizon have taken on that familiar, summertime haziness that emphasizes distance like a faded watercolor panorama.

It is the sort of day that makes you think, "all is right with the world," whether all things are right with your world or not. And, chances are, very little is right with the world. But, thankfully, it is days like today that help us stare down mortality, forge ahead and struggle onward.

Weather Pattern

Another in a long string of dark, cold, damp days. Today, an insidious, bitter, bone-chilling micro-mist envelopes the body and grips the spirit like a carbonado skeletal hand that pierces your sternum and crushes your heart in its merciless grasp.

The Banjo Players Must Die

No one knew where they came from; their origin was clouded. Oh, there were theories of course, but there was no evidence. All attempts to scour the records of antiquity for clues were fruitless. No matter how far back in history you went, there they were. Running. Screaming. Pleading for mercy and receiving none. Their appearance did not appear to have changed much in the course of several eons; it suited Darwin's proponents well to ignore them, for they did not evolve. They were the universal constant; always there, always persecuted, always the fugitives from the oppressive forces of divine moral rectitude, and always - always - defiantly playing away on their banjos.

From "The Banjo Players Must Die" by Josef Assad

Rewind the Winds of Time

Wait!
Wait!
Stop the world,
I want to get off.

Rewind the winds of time
And let me do it all again.
Let me appreciate what I had.
Let me be in the moment, again.

I've got no time for now,
I'm trying to recall
Each moment of then.
You. Me.

Summer.
Mornings on couches,
Days at the beach.
Arms and hands and lips and breasts.

Fun.
Happy.
Thrilling.
Exploring.

Living,
Loving,
Laughing.
Learning.

Justice

"Children & barbarians have clear ideas of justice due to them, but no idea at all of justice due FROM them."

• Murray Lenstier, "Med Ship"

Generations

It feels odd to become the superseded generation, as our children start off on their life paths. I can remember myself at that age, when my parents' lives barely registered on my radar. Our role becomes that of the interested observer, close to the role our parents, if surviving, still take in our own lives.

I'm not ready to pack it in. I enjoy the activities & opportunities I have with my own generation and look forward to being able to direct more time into their pursuit. Still, it is funny to scan my list of facebook friends and see how many are within a year or two of the half century mark. Not so funny is the realization that actuarial time & chance has begun to whittle down the pool of survivors.

Personal Dateline: Tehran, Iran 1966

Iran has been in the news a lot lately. It means more to me than some, as I have friends with family connections there AND I lived there for 3 years or so in late 1960s. My father was a radar tech in the Air Force. We lived in the Tehran Hilton for months and then lived in several houses. This wasn't base housing, but large, mud & camel-hair walled houses with large yards protected by high walls and dry moats (ditches along outside of wall). Each house sat seperately sorrounded by its own walls. I don't know if the houses were loaned or given to use by USAF or what. 

The Shah was in power and Iran was a US Ally, more or less. As a young boy, most of my impressions are of places and experiences, not politics. I remember hot, dry summers, the noise camels make when they don't want to move (one day we heard a god-awful noise and we finally had to go up on the roof and peek over the wall to see - it came from a kneeling camel being prodded by a frustrated camel driver), an Irianian merchant hawking "strawberries - strawberries" outside the wall, the baji who used to help around the house, the un-americanized bathroom that was just a hole in the floor (fortunately "real" toilets had been installeed), a dead mule left to lie where it fell, fly-covered meat hanging in stalls, unleavened bread stacked and tied to the rear fender of the delivery boy's bicycle, roadside ditches in Tehran that ran like open sewers (saw someone brushing his teeth crouched at the ditch while nearby another man was taking a  leak), the taste of chlorine on any fresh produce (mom would soak veg & fruit in bleach solution), the taste of long-frozen hamburger patties from the BX, Easter parties at the officer's club (?), image of giant scorpion in tile on the bottom of the club swimming pool, swimming in a small, rectangular goldfish pond in our first home, riding into Tehran with my Dad when he had to go meet with locals (and being left to wait inside locked brown stationwagon - and how scared I was when two uniformed Iranians asked me to open the door so I could move the car from blocking a driveway), learning farsi from our schoolbus driver (some of which I can still speak today, enough to say "hi, how are you" anyway), throwing cookies off the 28th (or was it 38th) floor balcony of the Tehran Hilton, lots of three-wheeled vehicles on the road, seeing snow on the mountain peaks while we roasted down below, a HUGE HUGE wolf that got  into our compound (what the walled-in yards were called) when the solid metal gate was accidently left open, occassional sightings of hyenas and wild boar and things that came down out of the mountains in winter, large vultures sitting by the side of the road, giant spiders, TAS - Tehran Amerian School - with all grades from K - 12 plus more - a long bus ride.

These are the impressions of a young boy uncluttered by the facts or politics and why Americans were there. I have loads more of these little snapshot impressions that seem to have been indelibly imprinted in my memory banks. There is also much richer detail than I've gone into here, where I've just used the memory montage as my tool of expression. I only have to pause and picture one thing and it all comes flooding back. It was a truly fascinating experience.

We never learned what my father was really doing in Iran. The cover story was working on (secret?) radar installations, and maybe that is all it was. Later in life, he wouldn't say. It was either a real secret or he just wanted to portray a little drama in our lives. We left in 1968 or 1969, when internal unrest made being an American in Iran an unwise arrangement. I believe the Shaw was overthrown or exhiled or something. I do remember the grownups talking about how American families were being asked to leave. My father stayed on longer. 

A June of Endless Gray

A June of endless gray

A sky ever heavy, laden with moisture

A forest dark. green. growing

A river, late, high-flowing

The sun, when seen, surprises

When low clouds lift, endless patterns

More pacific coastal than mountain clear

All life adjusts, to rain, this year

Riding Truena Rollos Home to NH for Bike Week

Riding a motorcycle is so much more experiential than driving a car. You are aware of every mile. Your senses take in all through which you travel. You feel every minute change in temperature and humidity as you ride in and out of hollows. You smell every scent wafting in the air through which you pass. You smell the damp forest litter, the tannic irony odor of wetlands, and every growing, blooming plant. It can't be compared to driving, even with the widows down. And though riding feels a bit like flying, it is so much better simply by the involvement of your senses.

Today I traveled to NH to visit friends and family, and to participate in Laconia's Bike Week. I drove through three thunderstorms east of Keene Valley, along Route 73 and Tracy Road, an otherwise very bike-friendly curvy road.

The Adirondack High Peaks were shrouded in rain. Heading towards them from a distance, I saw the wispy, twisting gray columns of rain as it was blown down from the clouds along the mountain slopes and ridges.

Crossing southern Lake Champlain at the Crown Point Bridge, the panoramic vista and distant horizons yielded a spectacular view of myriad cloud formations - white lumpy cumulo-nimbus, dark-bottomed banks, silver-gray streaked clouds, shafts of rain.

As I approached each storm, I could feel the temperature drop by at least 10 degrees, the air held a definite chill, and within a mile or so I was slowing down, pelted by large-dropped thundercloud rain. Jagged flashes of lightning streaked across distant peaks. Ahead I could see blue sky and billowy white, towering storm clouds brightly lit by sun shine that couldn't penetrate the dark storm through which I was riding.

I scared up two moose wallowing in a small roadside wetland as I was going up the mountain in East Middlebury, Vermont. I scared up a third moose on the back side of the mountain, past the Snow Bowl.

At last I arrived in NH, back home, if but for a few days.

~~~~~

Trueno Rollos, Thunder Rolls, is my Titanium Gray Honda VTX 1300C

Wow, what a spam/phishing story • Fw: FBI Seattle Division

------Original Message------
From: FBI Director
To: undisclosed-recipients:;
ReplyTo: robertmuellerrr46@yahoo.cn
Subject: FBI Seattle Division
Sent: Jun 14, 2009 5:20 PM

Federal Bureau of Investigation
FBI Seattle Division
1110 Third Avenue
Seattle, Washington 98101-2904
Payment Code: R5109176K
Reg No: 132731593

The Federal Bureau of Investigation has discovered through our
intelligence Monitoring Network that you are eligible to receive the sum
of $7,500,000.00 USD regarding to an over-due Inheritance/Award payment
which was fully endorsed to be paid in your favour.therefore,the FBI
Seattle Division in conjunction with the United States Department of
Homeland Security (DHS), Has screened through our various Monitoring
Networks and has been confirmed and notified that the transaction you
have with the Financial Institution is Legal and you have the Lawful Right
to claim your due fund.

The President His Excellency Alhaji Umaru Musa Yar Adua President of the
Federal republic of Nigeria has given us the final approval to pay your
fund to you within the next 48hrs, Your fund valued $7,500,000.00 USD has
been deposited into a Gold smart Card number: 5179 1234 5678
personal identification is ATM- 7997 this card will enable you buy and
withdrawal cash anywhere around the world this is done for your own
security, with this card you will not have to take the risk of sending us
your personal banking details online as you have been strongly advise by
your local bank not to send your banking details to anyone online.

What you are required to do now to Pay the fees of $210.00 USD for the
shipment of your Gold Smart
card to your choice location, $210.00 USD is the only fees that has been
approved by both the FBI and the Bank that you are to pay as cost of
Delivery of your Card to you by the courier company.Once the fees is been
paid your ATM CARD
will get to you in the next 2-3 working day.

Note: Your funds are protected by a hardcover insurance policy, which
makes it Impossible to deduct any amount from the money before it can be
remitted to you.this means that the above charges cannot be deducted from
the Funds and hence must be provided by you before your fund is
transferred to you.the payment for any of the above options should be sent
via Western Union Money Transfer in the name of the Head of accounts Mr.
Julius Azuka.
Find below the payment information.

Name of receiver: JULIUS AZUKA
Office Address: Plot 143, Ahmadu Bello Way, Victoria Island, Lagos 23401
Nigeria.
Text Question: In God
Answer: We Trust
Name of Sender:.....................
Address of Sender:..................
MTCN#...............................

As soon as we receive your payment, he shall proceed with your fund
transfer immediately.
We anticipate your prompt response. If you need to contact me at any stage
please do not hesitate to call (+1-206-203-4190)

Sincerely,
Steven M. Dean (Assistant Special Agent-in-Charge)
cc Robert Mueller (FBI Director)

Meanwhile . . .

When you are sick, when you are not well, you'd think that friends and family - loved ones - would rally 'round. But they all turned away, shut doors, and moved on.

And,
everyone's lives went on without me.

SLHS Class of 2009 Senior Tea

The Class of 2009 attended a Senior Tea at Nonna Fina Italian Restaurant (151 River Street) in Saranac Lake on June 1 2009. Below is a short video.

Wild Winter Weather - May 31, 2009

We experienced some pretty wild weather on the afternoon of May 31 2009. The day started warm but a sharp cold front came through beginning at about 2:00 pm. Brisk winds carried in rain, hail, and sleet which changed over to heavy snow squalls by about 3:00 pm. Once the ground cooled, the snow accumulated over the green grass and on the trees. When it was all over, the sun came out and brightened up the whole scene!

SLHS Pre-Prom Party

Here is a very short video from a Saranac Lake High School pre-prom gathering

Source: My YouTube Channel: CedarEden

Gardener's Supply

I get tired of having online companies not only deciding to send me email "newsletters" because I've purchased stuff from them, but also sharing my information with other companies so those companies can send me "special offers." I never asked you for it, you never asked me if its okay

So, with Gardeners Supply, I started getting newsletters and offers from other companies using the unique email I used with them. I went to the unsubscribe links, but after, annoyed, I decided to check out their privacy policy.

If you are in the business of selling things online, it would seem that good customer relations would be prime directive. So Privacy Statements with terms such as this are really mind-boggling: "This Privacy Policy and Security Statement is part of our Terms of Use, which governs your use of gardeners. By using gardeners you agree to this Privacy Policy and Security Statement and Terms of Use."

The rest of the policy is the usually bullshit. I don't care what you do to enhance my shopping experience so long as you don't spam me or enable others to spam me. And regarding that "use our website & you agree to all this crap," can you imagine that language on a brick & mortar storefront? "By entering our store, you agree to blah blah blah."

I don't agree to shit from you. You want my business, you and your ridiculous lawyers certainly have it all backwords.

Thoughts on the American Educational System

The single greatest disservice we do to the children of this country is to teach them that each is so special that they should be showered with accolades simply for being, for showing up, for "trying." Let every kid have his chance on the team, equal minutes on the playing field to all. And so they go unprepared for the iniquities of adult life. Each of us has our strengths & weaknesses. While the strong, the bright, the gifted will always find their way, the majority are left to flounder on the false assumptions instilled by our idiotic educational system.

Are parents and educators so detached that they seek to avoid having to teach the tougher lessons of life? I'm not saying we should be cruel, but to stand gutted by the angry God of Self-Esteem at All Costs is to deny responsibility for holistic learning.

Don't even get me started on special education at the primary level, where parents of bright children must fight for special ed for the advanced child because funding programs don't cover the advanced child. Its a travesty when a first grader comes home and tells her parents she is bored because she has to be taught at the same level pace as everyone else, while the school must provide one on one "teaching" to those unable to keep up. No child left behind is fine as long as it doesn't equate also to no child advances ahead.

On Earth & Recovery

There is no such thing as planetary recovery. The earth was, is, and always will be changing - with or without us.

We silly humans don't handle change well. River dwellers battle against its natural change of course. Lake swellers rail against the natural changing shape of the shoreline, the natural alteration of water level. Did I say silly humans? I think I meant conceited humans.

Even nature shows on the National Geographic Channel talk about suvh things as "will the planet recover if humans disappear today?" Recovery presumes there is a static, ideal state. And in earthly terms, there is no such thing as chemical, biological, or physical stasis.

Silly, selfish humans.

~~~
Michael R. Martin, CLM
LakeStewardship.org (non-profit)
• lakestewardship.blogspot.com
• michael@lakestewardship.org
Cedar Eden Environmental LLC, Saranac Lake NY
• cedareden.com | 518.572.2104
• michael@cedareden.com

Early Morning

Approaching 5 o'clock Sunday morning. The sky is bright enough to highlight and shadow the thick and billowy cloud ceiling. I can distinguish yard from trees but little else. All is still in that no-color zone of perception.

I hear an early bird singing, perhaps a robin's rain song. Or maybe its a thrush. So hard to tell through double panes of glass keeping sound along with the intended cold air.

I open the slider to smell the air & hear the birds. Cold air streams through the small opening and seems to run down my bare legs like water from a spring. Now I hear the wind in the pine as well as the birds. Surely that's a thrush's melodious call from within the cedar swamp. And the robin somewhere higher and closer.

I love this time of day, but you already know that. Driven here by a bitchy partner complaining about how close to the middle of the bed I am, I think I'll just stay here, now laying on a comfy couch under a soft & warm blanket, and watch the sky lighten.

There is a science that studies the patterns of an author's writing style and can tell with a fair bit of certainty whether a contested piece was written by him or her or by someone else. In Stephen King's book, "UR," he talks about this a bit. The premise is that a magic, pink Kindle can access and million alternate realities and download the books of well-known and obscure authors from those realities. So in one UR world, Hemingway lived a longer life, wrote different books as well as some familiar in our world. King, as narrator of the story, or perhaps its a character - doesn't matter - talks about the staccato writing style of Hemingway being clear in his books from other realities now on the Kindle and goes on to describe the recognizable traits in other author's work - at least the main trait an without too much detail.

I bring this up because it came to mind as I was typing well on in another long sentence that any english teacher in primary or secondary education would order you to break it up, BREAK IT UP, MAN! So my writing style is long sentences. At least when in a tired state or a pained state, or a drugged (ie., medicated) state of being. Right now I am the first two and more the second than the first. I'd love to be in the third but I've a church service to sing and some of my meds make my voice deeper and raspy, not a side effect a singer needs. Its tough enough singing so early in the morning.

So, I doubt anyone has read this far. If you have and you are NOT an acquaintance, please comment so I'll know my crazy rambling have reached other living souls on the planet.No need for names, first names/nicknames only please, kinda like Car Talk. Where you from? What do you do for a living? Do you come here often? Do you have ypur own blog?

I feel like I should say maxi-blog or something since the new word and trend is "micro-blogging," which," for those who don't know, refers to systems set up to reach an audience in brief bursts. A good example would be twitter, which allows only 140 characters in each posting ("tweet").

So, anyway, I was trying to sign off then put a whole nother paragraph in, and now two! Read above aboit commenting and some questions you might consider answering in your comment. Guess I am too lazy to set up a survey form, but I really think commenting is best for this type of media. Ohan yeay, a few more questions: -s this your first time to Cedar Eden: The Blog? How often do you come? Or Will you be coming back? For the newcomers, how much do you like Cedar Eden: The Blog. For the seasoned vets, why do you keep coming back? And for all, rate the blog on a scale of 1 - 10 with ten being highest for content, voice, and overall experience. (Being kinda facecious here, poking fun at or parodying other outreach methods, but answer that last one anyway.)

So there it is, a string of questions you can answer if you like, by commenting on this submission. Question ideas are in the paragraph above and the second paragraph above that one (third from here,

Funny how this all started with an insight piece on the beauty of the earlt morning. I'll fimish by noting the melodious charms of the wind chimes ringing away like prayer bells in a howling wind. The howling wind is directed towards the wind chimes ratjer than the prayer bells. Oh, never mind. It is over - fun while it lasted but I got nothing left in me

More to Love YouTube Video

Hello everyone. Will you please help my friend and author/illustrator, Elizabeth Patch? Go check out her YouTube video about her More to Love book. The links is below in her email to me. Also check out her websites at moretolove.net and elizabethpatch.com for more entertaining uplifting free things. An, you could buy her book, for you, for friends. Here illustrations are wonderful and I have to think that her uplifting message to women of all sizes has to make feel good. Fat or Thin, woman are forced in our culture to always obsess about the way they look. And so More to Love is for you or the woman in your life!

Michael

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: suzette martin 
Date: Sat, May 16, 2009 at 1:23 PM
Subject: More to Love YouTube Video
To: 

Hello Family & Friends!

I need a favor from you all (again...) and this won't cost you a penny!

Adam & I just finished the book trailer for More to Love!!

Its so adorable, he did such a great job!

PLEASE go to this link

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vK1rPVUuM90

1. Watch the video 

2. Leave a comment!

and then PLEASE

3. send the YouTube link to everyone in your email contact list, and ask them to pass it along too.

the more people watch it, the more "popular" it becomes and the more people will watch it.

trusting in the power of friends & family to get the snowball rolling...

thanks so much for all of you support!

Suzette Martin and  Elizabeth Patch

Amazing night

Boy, its amazing to be out here. The smell of new, damp grass, the stars sparkling through trees just beginning to set their leaves. There is a light breeze and the distant sound of tree frogs & spring peepers calling for mates. The dogs are happily grazing on the new grass, and sniffing at the damp ground. The air . . . The air smells of new life, fresh life, a new, fresh start we call spring.

Glorious night that it is. I could stand out here for hours, letting the breeze set the smells and sounds upon my senses, my memories, my emotions.

I sit on the bottom step of our entrance deck, the dogs circling and occasionally dropping their heavy noses upon my knee for a little attention. They, too, are pleased with the night, happy for it. Bruiser, the old dog, takes it in stride. This is likely his last spring, and he enjoys all that the night air brings forth. Sadie, young Sadie, treats the night as a novelty, something new and wonderful, and bounds from here to there, to sniff, to nibble, to take it in.

The dogs begin to stare towards the neighbor's yard, wondering if their dogs are out to bark at. They come to me as I call and whistle, panting, tails wagging, happy eyes sparkling. And as I continue to write, typing on this little computer called the Blackberry Curve, they drift off again to revel in the sensory explosion of spring.

It is, perhaps, a little cool for the great amphibian migrations, yet the little frogs are calling, quietly, slowly, from their vernal pools.

But, alas, my reverie is broken as the dogs begin to bark, mine here, and the neighbors' over there. So we retreat, back inside, where we are once again completely removed from the explosion of spring happening without us right outside these walls, windows, and doors. No smells on breezes, no peeping frogs. Nothing but the sound of passing cars can penetrate this fortress.

Who knows the night as this?! How can we live so insulated from life that surrounds us, the awakening earth, the expanse of the night sky, the universe outside our very doors. We have but to step out, look up, and take it all in.

Good night. And I mean, it is a good night.

Late night or rather early morning

My mom says I've inherited this from here, this inability to sleep more than 4 - 5 hrs a night. On the upside, we function quite well on that amount. The downside is many a lonely night. I either go to bed early w/my other and get up at 1 or 2 AM or stay up real late and maybe wake up at a normal time.

I think perhaps my circadian rhythm is synched to a different planet. If I do go to bed at 1 or 2 I will often sleep the normal 8 hours or so, but that puts me waking in late morning. And as much as I like the night, I love the early morning even more.

I love few things more than starting a drive to somewhere in the wee hours of the night and driving thru those hours of sky lightening and sun rising.

Life, Another Way

I am no longer going to live my life passing the time waiting between events, whiling away the hours. I am going to live all that life in between and when an event rolls around its going to be a big, happy bonus.

I sure hope to see you in the betweens!

Life really is all that time that passes between waiting for things to happen. Stop waiting. Start living.

Maybe we should stop marking our calendars with the where's and what's of the near future. Let's just mark them with the moments spent listening to birds calling before the sun rises, watching new leaves burst forth from gray and brown buds into brightly green vibrance.


(But I do have to speak of exciting events, none the less.)
• I hear tell that there may be an unheard-of August performance by the Whompers!
• There's also an early summer trip planned to UNC Greensboro to get oriented with our incoming freshman!
• And a July Island bash with high school friends.
• And another trip to NC in August to move her in for her first semester.
• AND, after a 1 year hiatus, Meadowlark Music Camp will once again be serenading the loons of Washington Maine at the end of August!

I'll get a lot of practice filling in the betweens and letting the events just roll on by.

Another Night turns into Day (followed by an exposition on why we write)

(Warning: contains depressing material not suitable to all viewers. The clinically depressed may want to leave the room at this time, ie., hit the Back Button or, at the very least, put down the loaded pistol)

Now, sit back and enjoy the program.
~~~~~~~~~~~$€¥£•

Slowly, slowly, ever so slowly
The black of night turns into grey
And when the rooster calls it dawn
There isn't much anymore to say.
It is dawn. It is grey.

Black and darkness has been replaced by a sullen greyness.
It spills into this room full of windows
like chill water flowing into a capsizing kayak.
It's there, you can't live without it, but you certainly don't need it rushing in over the gunwales.

Where is the cheery dawn,
Of bright skies and singing birds?
There are no birds.
They didn't start their usual pre-dawn orchestrations.
Even they knew the day was sunk before it started;
Sunk like matter into a blackhole;
Sunk like the saber-toothed cat in a La Brea tar pit; (http://www.tarpits.org/)
Sunk like my heart & soul,
Lost in a sunless, friendless, loveless space I can't call home,
because home IS where your heart is.

And right now, I'm not even sure I have a heart left as I struggle with the La Brean tar pit minefields of these relationships.

Leave me to sink, to petrify,
So that future generations will ponder my fate.
Leave me -
- or, damn it all, reach out your arm and pull me out,
To safety,
To light,
To laughter,
And to love.

It is an awfully gray day.
Where is the sun?
Where
Are
You?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now, I know that some of you worry that I am clinically depressed. That is not the case. I am situationally depressed, repressed, and . . . <damn, I needed one more "pressed" word to make my virtual point. I don't think it exists>

Anyway, we all swing from sad to glad in some sort of pendulum-like certainty. Naturally, some folks experience the sad-glad curve skewed to the left and seem happy all the time. Others experience a skewness to the right and seem to be down all the time. Still others exhibit that classic bell curve and are medium most of the time, with equal parts happy and sad experienced only on their two long tails.

And me, as a poet, can conjure up any spot on that curve and reflect it back to you in words that emote that condition in your own heart & soul. That doesn't make me that person, that experience, that emotion. It is but a painting with words designed to bring forth a plethora of feeling to you, to hopefully hit a heartstring (NOT scientifically proven to exist).

So, know that there is a part of me in everything I create, but know also that I am not my creations in mood or measure.

We write to share a picture with you, fanciful, terrifying, illuminating, sensual, dark.

We write because we must write.
Casting off the feelings and fears that we perceive, we become more you and you more us.

Pondering Reality (or Why I Don't Sleep at Night)

I've been pondering life & death, self & other lately. We all walk in a little bubble of present reality. People pass by in their own bubbles, interact with us, and then, from our own perspective, cease to exist. Yet, they do exist, in their own traveling bubble of present reality.

On a bigger scale, we live our own personal lives, carving a path in space & time that is uniquely ours. Yet time existed long before us. Billions of years of time. And, scary to really think about, time will exist after us. But think too hard and seriously about that & you'll make yourself sick.

I sometimes try to imagine that moment of death, when there is first self-awareness and then, at least in this world, black nothingness. I can remeber the sinking pit in my stomache the first time I thought about that as a young boy.

And you wonder why. I don't sleep at night?

Welcome to my bubble!

My Favorite Blackberry Text Tricks

I've been working with my Blackberry Curve for about a month now. One of the neat things BB does is use AutoText (Options | AutoText) where you can define abbreviated shortcuts that will automatically be written out for you when you type them.

I've found a few poorly documented tricks and used them to create some useful AutoText entries:

Date & Time
I find date and time stamps useful for documenting project time in the Memo App. Date and time stamp shortcuts were already defined in AutoText to return long date (day of week plus full date) and long time (full time). These are defined in the AutoText App as %D & %T. I created short time and date stamps by using lowercase d & t. In the examples below, the text in quotes is what you type to call up the autotext, the %+Char combo defines the output. I include sample output that results from the expanded text.

• Long Date "ld" %D
Wed, Apr 1, 2009
• Short Date "sd" %d
3/31/2009
• Long Time "lt" %T 4:32:56 PM
• Short Time "st" %t 4:38p

Ampersand
I use the ampersand a lot. Rather than always hitting SYMbol key + L I defined an AutoText "aa" as ampersand. Now I. Just type two a's and hit space to get &

Bullets
I also like to use bullets and tab bullets in text. I defined "bl" to return "•" And "blt" to return " •"

Backspace
In defining AutoText, %B means backspace. This is useful if you don't want a space after your replaced text. For instance, I've defined "http" to return "http://" by defining it as "http://%B" Without %B this would return "http:// "

You'll find loads of predefined typo corrections and text expanders by exploring Options | AutoText on your BB, including your PIN, Full Name, Signature (Owner) info. Check it out, create your own, and superrcharge your BB typing experience!

Whompers 2009 Spring Tour

Announcing The Whompers 2009 Adirondack Spring (Mud Season) tour to take place April 16-18. The Whompers will begin their tour Thursday, April 16 at 9PM at Paul Smith's College, where they will warm up for the weekend with an hour of whomping abandon. The tour continues Friday, April 17 8PM at the BluSeed Studio in Saranac Lake for an hour long set followed by an opportunity for all to jam with The Whompers. The 2009 Spring Tour culminates Saturday April 18 at 8PM at the Red Tavern in Duane, where The Whompers will entertain long into the night.

The Whompers play an upbeat and eclectic mix of good old time music and blues led by Chris Turner on Harmonica and Rachel Maloney on Fiddle. Other band mates include local talent Curt Stager, Kary Johnson, Michael Martin, Sue Grimm, and Kyle Murphy. Traveling musician Leo Lorenzoni rounds out the cast and crew.

So, whistle up the dog, strap on your whomping shoes, and join The Whompers this April 16 - 18.

Wet your Whompers Whistle at the Whompers Website. Practice your dance moves while you stream Whompers music across the world wide web! Visit http://ilike.com/artist/The+Whompers

Middle Age Long Reflected

One day you wake up & notice you are about to turn 49, and you say to yourself "When did I turn middle-aged?" Yet, somehow, you still find yourself to be the youngster in the circles that you keep. Not by much, mind you. And reflections always catch you by surprise. It's not what you expect - more like looking at your parent through a window than at yourself reflected. You think more often about your mortality, contemplate your place in the world, and dwell on the past. Things you never accomplished loom larger than things yet to be accomplished. And then you think, with luck you may have 25 or 30 more years to live. What of those years? Can you still make your mark in a young person's world? And why are you wasting time being miserable or unhappy? There is no reward for sticking it out in an unpleasant, unrewarding situation. Life will go on and all will be the better for it. In the long run. Up until now, you've always trusted your heart and it worked out well. Follow your heart. Be well. Be happy. Good night.

More to Love - Sister's New Book

My sisters' new book, More to Love, is out and the reviews are stunning. Here are the product description:

More to Love features Elizabeth Patch's adorable illustrations and upbeat messages for the active & attractive, sassy & sexy, "More to Lovable" woman who lives her life to the fullest!

No diet plans to follow or lifestyle changes required.
No self-esteem questionnaires to take or visualization techniques to practice.
No sad stories of rejection, pain or depression.
No dull statistics about overweight or obesity.

Each page of More to Love is a zero-calorie "chocolate chip cookie for the soul", a sweet happy bite of positive imagery combined with a heartfelt affirmation, guaranteed to make you smile.

From the Author: More to Love is dedicated to every woman who has ever felt she was less, when she truly is more.

Please visit
elizabethpatch.com and moretolove.net for additional More to Love goodies!

 I couldn't be prouder!

 Go to Amazon.com and read the reviews and to buy the book.

Stamps.com - A REAL Pain in the Ass!

I used to be a customer of STAMPS.COM and I am here to offer a warning. They SUCK! And here is why . . .

Stamps.com allows you to create and print postage for a nominal monthly fee. You sign up for stamps.com on-line through a fairly simple process. But the ONLY WAY to cancel your account is to call the idiots on the phone, allowing them to continue to charge you a monthly fee even when you stop using them.

About six months ago, I figured out I wasn't using the service enough to warrant the $5 per month baselin it was costing me, so I logged into my account in order to cancel it. There was no way on-line to cancel the account, so I sent them an email. They replied that I had to call them on the phone "for security reasons" in order to cancel the account. Not having the time or inclination to listen to their retention pitch, I fired off a nasty email and continued on my way. Fortunately, the credit card I was using for the account was no longer valid.
Stamps.com has been sending me monthly statements, adding $5 each month, along with a notice that I need to update my billing method since my credit card is no longer valid. So I suppose if I was dead, they'd keep charging me, too.

In our LATEST round of emails, they started quoting their service agreement which now states that "all account cancellation requests must be submitted to our Customer Support department by telephone. Our cancellation policy is in place to ensure the security and privacy of your personal and financial information." Pretty funny considering they had no qualms about security when I signed up on-line! What a BUNCH OF BULLSHIT!

In all this time, they never bumped up my request to someone who might actually give a damn about customer service or their company image. So, in keeping with my last threatening email to them, this is my campaign to spread the word about why STAMPS.COM SUCKS!Stamps.com sucks. Use their service at your own peril! PLEASE ADD YOUR BEEFS TO THE COMMENT SECTION!

Oh yeah, one more thing:

STAMPS.COM SUCKS!

(Hey, I've TRIED to resolve this in a civilized manner)

Impatience

All my interests, all my hobbies, all my talents - I just don't have the patience to become renowned in any one area.

• Environmental/Lakes/Adirondacks
• Music
• Photography

Lost talents, lost expertise. Reality? This just isn't the age or culture for a renaissance man. 

Unusual Warming

A cold winter rain falls from pearlescent clouds.
Bare branches rattle in the breeze. 

Sunny, Melty

A new day:
bright | white | blue
sunny | melty

The same life:
painful | stark | lonely
optimistic | soluble

Summer Rains on a Winter Morning

I woke up today, in a dark and strange place, coming from a dream in my "own" bed. 

I walked downstairs to pee, and as I trickled into the toilet a few, slow tears started, 

     like those first fat drops before a summer storm. 

And then, like the storm, the skies opened up, 

     and I cried so hard I couldn't breathe.

Cold Day Dawning

True friends are there when you need them, not just when it is easy.
True friends say what needs to be said, not just what they think will please me.
I've gone & broken the bonds of 18 years, and now it's a cold day dawning.
No time for those whose life is just obsequious fawning.

Code Monkey AMV

Anime music video for Jonathan Coulton's Code Monkey Song, using footage from the anime Black Heaven.

Film Roll Clock

Here is a clock for those who long for (or at least reminisce about) the pre-digital photograpy days. This nifty looking clock is available from Homeloo* - funny name, never heard of them. Isn't that an in-house British bathroom?

Be careful. Before you plunk down the $150 US, this runs on a 240v AC 9 volt adapter.

I'm not recommending you shop here, but you might just want to check out the many unique clocks they have on the website.

*HOMELOO - New Idea At All. We have been selling new designer decorations in Hong Kong for more than 2 years both online and retail. We constantly look for new Hong Kong and China designer products such as Pinko, Digo, Homade, and Twemco to share with all of you in worldwide.
Address: HOMELOO CO., Flat A, 8/F, Fanling Town Centre, Fanling, Hong Kong.

Don't like that clock. How about this one, the eye clock, available from Mike Mak Design? (site down as of time of posting)

On Inorganic v. Organic Lifeforms

From The Two Faces of Tomorrow, by James P. Hogan - in a discussion on superiority of a future, immortal inorganic lifeform when compared to human descendants.

"A man lives for eighty years. He spends the first quarter of it or more learning all the same things that generations have had to learn before, and the rest of it laboriously building up a collection of information, knowledge, opinions, ideas, experiences --all those kinds of things. Then he dies and takes the whole damn lot with him, and so the next generation has to start out all over."

While we do advance some in each generation, the pace is slow compared to what would essentially be an immortal lifeform.

Road to Chatham Video reinstated

My popular Road to Chatham YouTube video has been reinstated, now that I replaced the original copyrighted music with something more generic. YouTube refused my claim that the use of the original banjo tracks was fair use. Oh well, not as perky but still enjoyable. I'll find a better, longer track soon.

Watch it. Rate it. Thanks.

Winter Carnival Photo Slide Shows

I've created a few photo slideshows and posted them on YouTube. As always, the actual hi-res photos can be found at http://cedaredenphoto.com

Coronation Ceremony & Royal Court Dance


Lighting of the Ice Palace & Opening Fireworks


Woman's Frying Pan Toss


Paul Smith's College Woodsmen Team Exhibition