11:40P
I've started a little list
of things to blog about,
but nothing is quite right
to blog about tonight.
One phrase amuses me:
"innocence in a sense."
"The hand with which I write"
explains the phrase airtight.
Is "innocence in a sense"
an oxymoron? In a sense.
Innocence either is or isn't,
in my view.
My explanation's
in a sense a pun.
The phrase and explanation is
a double pun or two!
Oh, I think I'm so clever.
Ha ha ha...
But it was fun to write.
Miss Peach
Some really good ones in here:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oxymoron
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pun
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Innocence in a Sense
Labels:
blog,
in a sense,
innocence,
Miss Peach,
oxymoron,
pun,
weak humor,
wikipedia
Monday, June 28, 2010
Million Bells in Breeze
11:55P
So hello again, Miss Peach. It seems like we are the only ones reading these blogs, me, myself and I. I decided to put the shortest video on record on the blog today, titled Million Bells in Breeze :11, not the 11th "take" but 11 seconds, taken on April 11, 2010, a Sunday morning. Since I have to know computer code to put the video on the blog page where I want it, the video's not going to be exactly where I want it today, my computer code strengths sadly lacking, not just today, but every day so far in my life.
Yet I have to admit to myself, it is a perfect little video, capturing everything I saw in the Million Bells the day I pointed my iPhone at it and touched the video "button". Such a lovely memory! I can still feel the balminess of the breeze on April 11, the last Sunday of tax season this year. Or was it a gale?... I forget... Maybe inbetween. One of the nicest things about memories besides the remembrances is the forgettrances. Which is why the camera and the contemporaneous journal are two wonderful crutches in life.
The Million Bells themselves are an annual flower, but they weathered over in our mild courtyard protected weather zone from early spring 2009, bloomed profusely all summer and fall, and never quit blooming all winter, although a little straggly at times, but always a few flowers, cheerfully enjoying their clay pot location close to the office door where I see them every time I go in or out.
Blessings on us all!
Miss Peach
So hello again, Miss Peach. It seems like we are the only ones reading these blogs, me, myself and I. I decided to put the shortest video on record on the blog today, titled Million Bells in Breeze :11, not the 11th "take" but 11 seconds, taken on April 11, 2010, a Sunday morning. Since I have to know computer code to put the video on the blog page where I want it, the video's not going to be exactly where I want it today, my computer code strengths sadly lacking, not just today, but every day so far in my life.
Yet I have to admit to myself, it is a perfect little video, capturing everything I saw in the Million Bells the day I pointed my iPhone at it and touched the video "button". Such a lovely memory! I can still feel the balminess of the breeze on April 11, the last Sunday of tax season this year. Or was it a gale?... I forget... Maybe inbetween. One of the nicest things about memories besides the remembrances is the forgettrances. Which is why the camera and the contemporaneous journal are two wonderful crutches in life.
The Million Bells themselves are an annual flower, but they weathered over in our mild courtyard protected weather zone from early spring 2009, bloomed profusely all summer and fall, and never quit blooming all winter, although a little straggly at times, but always a few flowers, cheerfully enjoying their clay pot location close to the office door where I see them every time I go in or out.
Blessings on us all!
Miss Peach
Labels:
annuals,
iPhone,
memories,
Million Bells,
remembrances,
video
Saturday, June 26, 2010
I'll Fly Away - Pastor Tom sings and plays guitar
11:50P Santa Monica time
So I'm branching out. This is a 1:40 minute video, if it loads, if it plays, that I took with my handheld iPhone at afternoon church a month ago. I chose a short one for our debut. So my blog today is short, too. I'm anxious to see if this will work. If it does, I've got to get a more attractive label for it than what looks like a black blogger box, no offense to Blogger of course, who makes this all possible for me. Aren't we all so fortunate... Enjoy! At least I'll have one reader/listener today: Pastor Tom! And, perhaps, his family! I am so blessed.
Miss Peach
So I'm branching out. This is a 1:40 minute video, if it loads, if it plays, that I took with my handheld iPhone at afternoon church a month ago. I chose a short one for our debut. So my blog today is short, too. I'm anxious to see if this will work. If it does, I've got to get a more attractive label for it than what looks like a black blogger box, no offense to Blogger of course, who makes this all possible for me. Aren't we all so fortunate... Enjoy! At least I'll have one reader/listener today: Pastor Tom! And, perhaps, his family! I am so blessed.
Miss Peach
Labels:
guitar,
I'll Fly Away,
iPhone,
Pastor Tom,
short,
video
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Dogs
11:35P Santa Monica time
I set my cell alarm for 11:00P so I would come to the computer to do my blog. I have an empty mind today. I'm just going to copy out a Santa Monica native animal rhyme from the alphabet booklet I was dallying with a few years ago, writing and illustrating. Something short. I've exhausted my tiny audience already with all my words. This rhyme is cute, I think. However, it looks like I'll have to be a rocket scientist in order to get my illustrations of the dogs posted here aesthetically. Maybe some day. But not today.
The Dog
Dogs come in all sizes
with color surprises,
their coats varied
curly to straight;
their legs short or tall
above paws large or small;
some are hyper,
some very sedate.
Dogs love to go out
with a leash on a route
where they check out
who's been there before.
They are loyal and true,
they become part of you.
How could anyone
ask any more?
Miss Peach
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidRFuJNJ_9iY-an4HoalBj4PFvDkRsrOoaYTI2hx414lgZZgb4ptVQrCUgi_m7zE6tHtTY6bWb0FPaWuB-vpfzGZ23w9BuBjkZhRiHLW_LRGkdArq_mniX9dd1cy4loW9eV1QcMmtFOg/s320/SM+Animals-Dog.jpg)
I set my cell alarm for 11:00P so I would come to the computer to do my blog. I have an empty mind today. I'm just going to copy out a Santa Monica native animal rhyme from the alphabet booklet I was dallying with a few years ago, writing and illustrating. Something short. I've exhausted my tiny audience already with all my words. This rhyme is cute, I think. However, it looks like I'll have to be a rocket scientist in order to get my illustrations of the dogs posted here aesthetically. Maybe some day. But not today.
The Dog
Dogs come in all sizes
with color surprises,
their coats varied
curly to straight;
their legs short or tall
above paws large or small;
some are hyper,
some very sedate.
Dogs love to go out
with a leash on a route
where they check out
who's been there before.
They are loyal and true,
they become part of you.
How could anyone
ask any more?
Miss Peach
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidRFuJNJ_9iY-an4HoalBj4PFvDkRsrOoaYTI2hx414lgZZgb4ptVQrCUgi_m7zE6tHtTY6bWb0FPaWuB-vpfzGZ23w9BuBjkZhRiHLW_LRGkdArq_mniX9dd1cy4loW9eV1QcMmtFOg/s320/SM+Animals-Dog.jpg)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr91ekSGxWkp3e1S2VBmwJpjF3P2Gt4ob4DUcJrs7ulf6waJnC3vvjz6SyOQHKMmoTs_1ix6b3tO5wG91JGlCrUCIEYBnqU90qTnDm1RpASAnEkGsMGpAG2IkYGZnnxj77j6xZSaSr3g/s320/SM+Animals-Dog+001.jpg)
Labels:
dogs,
drawings,
humor,
rhymes,
rocket scientist
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Monday Bible Study Last Night Revisited
11:50P Tuesday 062210
Last night was our regular weekly Monday Bible Study at E.L.'s house this week. I did my usual chauffeuring, with various confirmation calls to people I pick up, "Are you going?" and then estimating time I'd be there. Last night we had unusual drama before getting to the Bible Study. S.R. wants to return some bad shrimp to the grocery store, hadn't decided it was really bad until after he ate it for dinner. Great. He gets in the car with H.R. who is rolling her eyes at all the complaints before I got there which have been erased the minute he cheerfully steps into the car. E.S. has locked her house keys inside her home, still in her work clothes but answering her cell, happy to have time while we re-deliver the shrimp from whence it came before we pick her up. We end up only ten minutes late.
Four others, Pastor I.S., E.L., U.M. and E.T. are already there before us four, chomping away before we get there on what turns out to be delicious fried eggplant, homemade samosas, with fresh mint and hot red pepper "salsa" to eat with either or both. Cups of tea are passed around. I have brought my own iced tea. We have another twenty minutes "fellowship" (eating and talking) before Pastor I.S. starts the actual Study with a prayer.
We are studying from a book on Prayer written by Kenneth Hagin and do very well last night. Pastor I.S. starts the reading and then we each read a paragraph from the study booklet round the room. We always have many interruptions for questions, definitions, interpretations and discussion, but last night we read our full complement of eight paragraphs for eight participants. We're on page 118 when we quit last night after an hour and ten minutes out of maybe 200 pages in the book. We'll get there, Lord willing and the creek don't rise.
We then discuss prayer requests for twenty minutes, lots of discussion there, sharing problems of our relatives, our neighbors, our pastors, our own issues, a bunch of caring people in that room loving others as we have been taught to love by Jesus Christ.
And then ten minutes of prayers. E.S. starts the prayers, and as she prays the room opens up, lots of verbal action from others at the table, everybody is praying outloud their own separate prayers, prayers in agreement, noisy, E.S. breaks into song in part, her own creation, winds down. I think she says Amen, but then continues with more! Pastor I.S. finishes with his own prayer and we all feel wiped out and elated as applause and a cheer goes up from us.
E.L. warms up the remaining eggplant and samosas, we finish them, then she passes the ten individually wrapped cake slices that I brought from nephew R.S.'s cake that he brought to me Sunday night, yellow bundt loaded with chocolate chips and chocolate glaze. A couple of pieces were eaten right then, but the rest went home with everybody for today's lunch.
So that was the Bible Study Monday night.
Today I get an early email from E.L. Subject is "Upper Room" and she writes: "Thank God for a beautiful morning, we all had such a blessing last night. It was like the upper room, so filling like the free spirit and the Holy Spirit at the same time. God has blessed us with our group. We are all different but the same root, such as leaves, branches, buds, flowers, etc. I thank you all. Have a good day."
Of course, I had to respond to that: "Hi, E.L., Such a beautiful 'morning after' message! I loved ur phrase 'like the free spirit and the Holy Spirit at the same time.' I went home last night and played praise and worship songs on my keyboard for well over an hour, transposing keys one after another, things I never dreamed I could do (and most likely can't repeat!) I wonder what God is going to do with us all! Are you ready?? Luv"
E.L. emails response: "Yes I am! Guess what." And she writes details of someone we prayed for last night at her request which we all know was an answer to our prayer last night. "Prayer Prayer," she writes, "Thanks for the cake I am eating while sending the e-mail."
S.R. calls. I guess he's over the threat from the bad shrimp. He's watching a "boring" (his term, not mine) soccer game, calls to kill the time. I read E.L.'s email to him. He quits talking. "Are you there?" I ask. "Yes," he responds. I hear the game in the background, but hear nothing from his mouth. I say after a ten second delay, "It sounds like you're watching the game." He says, "What?" I repeat. He says, "They're going into scoring mode." I say, "Hang up." And so we do. I think the Bible Study is going into scoring mode, too.
Last night was our regular weekly Monday Bible Study at E.L.'s house this week. I did my usual chauffeuring, with various confirmation calls to people I pick up, "Are you going?" and then estimating time I'd be there. Last night we had unusual drama before getting to the Bible Study. S.R. wants to return some bad shrimp to the grocery store, hadn't decided it was really bad until after he ate it for dinner. Great. He gets in the car with H.R. who is rolling her eyes at all the complaints before I got there which have been erased the minute he cheerfully steps into the car. E.S. has locked her house keys inside her home, still in her work clothes but answering her cell, happy to have time while we re-deliver the shrimp from whence it came before we pick her up. We end up only ten minutes late.
Four others, Pastor I.S., E.L., U.M. and E.T. are already there before us four, chomping away before we get there on what turns out to be delicious fried eggplant, homemade samosas, with fresh mint and hot red pepper "salsa" to eat with either or both. Cups of tea are passed around. I have brought my own iced tea. We have another twenty minutes "fellowship" (eating and talking) before Pastor I.S. starts the actual Study with a prayer.
We are studying from a book on Prayer written by Kenneth Hagin and do very well last night. Pastor I.S. starts the reading and then we each read a paragraph from the study booklet round the room. We always have many interruptions for questions, definitions, interpretations and discussion, but last night we read our full complement of eight paragraphs for eight participants. We're on page 118 when we quit last night after an hour and ten minutes out of maybe 200 pages in the book. We'll get there, Lord willing and the creek don't rise.
We then discuss prayer requests for twenty minutes, lots of discussion there, sharing problems of our relatives, our neighbors, our pastors, our own issues, a bunch of caring people in that room loving others as we have been taught to love by Jesus Christ.
And then ten minutes of prayers. E.S. starts the prayers, and as she prays the room opens up, lots of verbal action from others at the table, everybody is praying outloud their own separate prayers, prayers in agreement, noisy, E.S. breaks into song in part, her own creation, winds down. I think she says Amen, but then continues with more! Pastor I.S. finishes with his own prayer and we all feel wiped out and elated as applause and a cheer goes up from us.
E.L. warms up the remaining eggplant and samosas, we finish them, then she passes the ten individually wrapped cake slices that I brought from nephew R.S.'s cake that he brought to me Sunday night, yellow bundt loaded with chocolate chips and chocolate glaze. A couple of pieces were eaten right then, but the rest went home with everybody for today's lunch.
So that was the Bible Study Monday night.
Today I get an early email from E.L. Subject is "Upper Room" and she writes: "Thank God for a beautiful morning, we all had such a blessing last night. It was like the upper room, so filling like the free spirit and the Holy Spirit at the same time. God has blessed us with our group. We are all different but the same root, such as leaves, branches, buds, flowers, etc. I thank you all. Have a good day."
Of course, I had to respond to that: "Hi, E.L., Such a beautiful 'morning after' message! I loved ur phrase 'like the free spirit and the Holy Spirit at the same time.' I went home last night and played praise and worship songs on my keyboard for well over an hour, transposing keys one after another, things I never dreamed I could do (and most likely can't repeat!) I wonder what God is going to do with us all! Are you ready?? Luv"
E.L. emails response: "Yes I am! Guess what." And she writes details of someone we prayed for last night at her request which we all know was an answer to our prayer last night. "Prayer Prayer," she writes, "Thanks for the cake I am eating while sending the e-mail."
S.R. calls. I guess he's over the threat from the bad shrimp. He's watching a "boring" (his term, not mine) soccer game, calls to kill the time. I read E.L.'s email to him. He quits talking. "Are you there?" I ask. "Yes," he responds. I hear the game in the background, but hear nothing from his mouth. I say after a ten second delay, "It sounds like you're watching the game." He says, "What?" I repeat. He says, "They're going into scoring mode." I say, "Hang up." And so we do. I think the Bible Study is going into scoring mode, too.
Labels:
bible study,
drama,
eggplant,
free spirit,
Holy Spirit,
Jesus Christ,
Kenneth Hagin,
mint,
samosas,
scoring mode,
shrimp,
soccer
Sunday, June 20, 2010
V.'s Mother's Prayer "Send Laser Beams"
11:30P Santa Monica time
We had a wonderful prayer offered for V. by his mother with manifestation in tongues of God's Holy Spirit shared with a small group of us at church after Bible Study last Wednesday night as we prayed hands-on for V.
Inspiration for V.’s mother's Prayer was "Send Laser Beams of God’s Word" from a text by Dr. Aiko Hormann.
The Prayer:
Heavenly Father, I ask you to assign ministering spirits to aim the laser beams of Your Word at the scar tissues in V.’s brain and specify the particular frequency of the laser beam for the purpose of disintegrating them.
Your Word coming out of my mouth will be energized by the Breath of the Holy Spirit within me.
It is written: "For this purpose the Son of God was manifested that he might destroy the works of the devil." 1 John 3:8. Therefore, I destroy the works of the devil in the form of brain lesions and scar tissue.
It is written: "Our God is a consuming fire." Hebrews 12:29. Therefore, God is consuming all the disease-causing germs and viruses, and everything else in this body that is abnormal and destructive.
It is written: "The Law of the Spirit of Life in Christ Jesus has made me [V.] free from the Law of sin and death." Romans 8:2. Therefore, I decree that V. is free from the law of sin and death and is now operating in the Law of the Spirit of Life in Christ Jesus.
It is written: "He [Jesus] Himself took our infirmities and bore our sicknesses." Matthew 8:17. Therefore Satan has no right to put upon V. that which was already laid on Jesus. I command you, Satan and spirits of darkness, to pack up all your symptoms and diseases and leave this body NOW, in the name of Jesus and become part of his footstool.
It is written: "Your [V.] body is the temple of the Holy Spirit." 1 Corinthians 6:19. Therefore I ask you, Holy Spirit, to cleanse your temple and restore this body [temple] to total normalcy, conforming to the pattern of perfection YOU originally designed for this body, in the Name of Jesus.
Thank You, Heavenly Father, for Your faithfulness to Your Word, watching over Your Word to perform it and I call this body healed, according to Romans 4:17 "...God, who gives life to the dead and calls those things which do not exist as though they did..."
We had a wonderful prayer offered for V. by his mother with manifestation in tongues of God's Holy Spirit shared with a small group of us at church after Bible Study last Wednesday night as we prayed hands-on for V.
Inspiration for V.’s mother's Prayer was "Send Laser Beams of God’s Word" from a text by Dr. Aiko Hormann.
The Prayer:
Heavenly Father, I ask you to assign ministering spirits to aim the laser beams of Your Word at the scar tissues in V.’s brain and specify the particular frequency of the laser beam for the purpose of disintegrating them.
Your Word coming out of my mouth will be energized by the Breath of the Holy Spirit within me.
It is written: "For this purpose the Son of God was manifested that he might destroy the works of the devil." 1 John 3:8. Therefore, I destroy the works of the devil in the form of brain lesions and scar tissue.
It is written: "Our God is a consuming fire." Hebrews 12:29. Therefore, God is consuming all the disease-causing germs and viruses, and everything else in this body that is abnormal and destructive.
It is written: "The Law of the Spirit of Life in Christ Jesus has made me [V.] free from the Law of sin and death." Romans 8:2. Therefore, I decree that V. is free from the law of sin and death and is now operating in the Law of the Spirit of Life in Christ Jesus.
It is written: "He [Jesus] Himself took our infirmities and bore our sicknesses." Matthew 8:17. Therefore Satan has no right to put upon V. that which was already laid on Jesus. I command you, Satan and spirits of darkness, to pack up all your symptoms and diseases and leave this body NOW, in the name of Jesus and become part of his footstool.
It is written: "Your [V.] body is the temple of the Holy Spirit." 1 Corinthians 6:19. Therefore I ask you, Holy Spirit, to cleanse your temple and restore this body [temple] to total normalcy, conforming to the pattern of perfection YOU originally designed for this body, in the Name of Jesus.
Thank You, Heavenly Father, for Your faithfulness to Your Word, watching over Your Word to perform it and I call this body healed, according to Romans 4:17 "...God, who gives life to the dead and calls those things which do not exist as though they did..."
Friday, June 18, 2010
Welcome, Cameron!
11:30P Santa Monica time
A couple of months ago a client/friend and his wife sent me an email announcing the birth of their first grandchild, for whom the new granddad had written a short flute piece which he played when they met for the first time. He wrote in his announcement: “When she heard the flute, her eyes lit up and she stared at the flute in utter fascination. We’re going to have lots of fun with this beautiful Black Chinese Filipino Polish Italian little creature!” I clicked on the attachment to bring up a delightful picture of Mama, Papa and Baby, all three with broad smiles, looking at me from my computer screen.
I emailed back to the grandparents, parents and babe:
Hi, Congratulations, all of you!!!
Welcome, CBT, to this Wonderful World, of your entry into it as an Only Child, a Firstborn, of doting parents, grandparents, and lots of other relatives you'll find are relatives Forever too, of music from flutes composed specially for you, of dancing under the stars, of chocolate, of dogs and cats and hamsters, of laughter and giggling and smiling knowingly, of crazy limericks and rhymes, of pottery and pasta, of color and space, of wind in the trees and in the desert, of ethnic food and heritage including apple pie and brownies, of joy in being alive and well and living in Southern California, of God's blessings on your arrival here and your past, present and future life, of freedoms expected and unexpected, of body and soul and spirit as you try them out, and of Love all around you, unlimited, overflowing, reciprocated, human and divine. Go for it, Cameron, have a wonderful life! Xoxoxoxox!
Love, Great-Auntie
Sent from my iPhone
I read it and re-read it, and re-read it. God made this wonderful life! Enjoy it with Cameron and me!
Miss Peach
A couple of months ago a client/friend and his wife sent me an email announcing the birth of their first grandchild, for whom the new granddad had written a short flute piece which he played when they met for the first time. He wrote in his announcement: “When she heard the flute, her eyes lit up and she stared at the flute in utter fascination. We’re going to have lots of fun with this beautiful Black Chinese Filipino Polish Italian little creature!” I clicked on the attachment to bring up a delightful picture of Mama, Papa and Baby, all three with broad smiles, looking at me from my computer screen.
I emailed back to the grandparents, parents and babe:
Hi, Congratulations, all of you!!!
Welcome, CBT, to this Wonderful World, of your entry into it as an Only Child, a Firstborn, of doting parents, grandparents, and lots of other relatives you'll find are relatives Forever too, of music from flutes composed specially for you, of dancing under the stars, of chocolate, of dogs and cats and hamsters, of laughter and giggling and smiling knowingly, of crazy limericks and rhymes, of pottery and pasta, of color and space, of wind in the trees and in the desert, of ethnic food and heritage including apple pie and brownies, of joy in being alive and well and living in Southern California, of God's blessings on your arrival here and your past, present and future life, of freedoms expected and unexpected, of body and soul and spirit as you try them out, and of Love all around you, unlimited, overflowing, reciprocated, human and divine. Go for it, Cameron, have a wonderful life! Xoxoxoxox!
Love, Great-Auntie
Sent from my iPhone
I read it and re-read it, and re-read it. God made this wonderful life! Enjoy it with Cameron and me!
Miss Peach
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Can This Marriage Be Saved?
11:30P Santa Monica time
Oh, no, rhymes again. Oh, well.
Can This Marriage Be Saved?
(Sub-Title by my mother:
If He Isn't Jealous of the Cats, He Should Be)
January 28, 1992 Re-Visited
Dedicated to Evita, Maria, Domingo and Juanita
with Apologies to Roy.....
I buy their food
I don't complain
I lug it home
I don't complain
I plan their meals with great variety.
I open cans and boxes, too,
I note the things they didn't like
So I won't get those things again.
I don't complain.
I open doors
I don't complain
I close the doors
I don't complain
I get up from a nice warm bed
To let them in or let them out
The upstairs window though they have
A cat door one floor down.
I welcome them upon my desk
They push my pens and pencils off
They lie upon my paper work
And yet I don't complain.
They lie upon my monitor,
With paws or tails obscuring screen,
They eat the printer paper some
And still I don't complain.
I pet them every time they pass,
I welcome them with lap inviting,
Laugh at how they move, and sit,
And talk and pout and stalk.
I smile to see their little faces
Waiting at the door to greet me,
Tails erect and posture
Queen-or-kingly,
As the case may be.
They are so careful, stepping cat-like
In and on and inbetween things,
Never making one misstep
Or damaging a thing.
But if they did
(They don't, but if)
But if an object would be damaged,
Broken, torn or toppled, well,
I'd easily forgive them, since
I know they couldn't help it
And I know they wouldn't do
That thing on purpose, anyway.
They're welcome on the bed although
They might have dirty feet,
But then, they'll clean their feet
(Although they do not
clean the spread itself.)
And if they choose the middle of the bed,
I don't complain,
I just arrange my life and body
Right around their little space.
And when they leave, I don't expect
Their telling me their destination,
And I do not ask them
When they're back
Where they have been.
I worry when they're gone too long,
I call them loudly and I don't
Particularly care
If all the neighbors
Think I'm strange.
I'm patient, kind and loving, with
No expectations from them, for
What else could they add
To our joint relationship
That we don't have?
They're perfect little beings
That were put on Earth to save us
From our "daily" daily living.
I'm in love.
I don't complain!
Oh, no, rhymes again. Oh, well.
Can This Marriage Be Saved?
(Sub-Title by my mother:
If He Isn't Jealous of the Cats, He Should Be)
January 28, 1992 Re-Visited
Dedicated to Evita, Maria, Domingo and Juanita
with Apologies to Roy.....
I buy their food
I don't complain
I lug it home
I don't complain
I plan their meals with great variety.
I open cans and boxes, too,
I note the things they didn't like
So I won't get those things again.
I don't complain.
I open doors
I don't complain
I close the doors
I don't complain
I get up from a nice warm bed
To let them in or let them out
The upstairs window though they have
A cat door one floor down.
I welcome them upon my desk
They push my pens and pencils off
They lie upon my paper work
And yet I don't complain.
They lie upon my monitor,
With paws or tails obscuring screen,
They eat the printer paper some
And still I don't complain.
I pet them every time they pass,
I welcome them with lap inviting,
Laugh at how they move, and sit,
And talk and pout and stalk.
I smile to see their little faces
Waiting at the door to greet me,
Tails erect and posture
Queen-or-kingly,
As the case may be.
They are so careful, stepping cat-like
In and on and inbetween things,
Never making one misstep
Or damaging a thing.
But if they did
(They don't, but if)
But if an object would be damaged,
Broken, torn or toppled, well,
I'd easily forgive them, since
I know they couldn't help it
And I know they wouldn't do
That thing on purpose, anyway.
They're welcome on the bed although
They might have dirty feet,
But then, they'll clean their feet
(Although they do not
clean the spread itself.)
And if they choose the middle of the bed,
I don't complain,
I just arrange my life and body
Right around their little space.
And when they leave, I don't expect
Their telling me their destination,
And I do not ask them
When they're back
Where they have been.
I worry when they're gone too long,
I call them loudly and I don't
Particularly care
If all the neighbors
Think I'm strange.
I'm patient, kind and loving, with
No expectations from them, for
What else could they add
To our joint relationship
That we don't have?
They're perfect little beings
That were put on Earth to save us
From our "daily" daily living.
I'm in love.
I don't complain!
Monday, June 14, 2010
The Mice Family
10:55P Santa Monica time
So I'm lazy today. My house guest relatives have flown off into the wild blue yonder earlier this evening after four days of running around with little time in between events with extended family (not mine), 90th birthday celebrations, mountains, the beach, a red Mustang convertible to get to and fro and now back to work in the morning. A blitz trip! They weren't around long enough for us to have a laughing good time although it was pleasant.
My biggest laugh today was one I read in a magazine: What ball LOOKS good but doesn't bounce good? An eyeball. I thought that was funny, it's really two jokes. My relatives were not amused. Which I found funny! It's the small things in life that delight. The reader is probably not amused either...if there are any readers thus far.
Today I am re-visiting a true story that happened in the vintage month of September 1991, a small thing that delighted me, so I had to make a rhyme out of it then which still delights me.
The Mice Family
Well, once upon a time there was
a family of tiny mice
who lived up Laurel Canyon-way.
They were so cute, and they were nice.
They never interfered a lot
with people who lived in their house.
They did their errands, ate and slept
while being quiet as a mouse.
One day a ripe banana on
the frig they sampled peel and all.
They were not greedy, they left half
to rest within their banquet hall.
This was an error on their part.
They did not know to what amount
had they consumed the other half,
the people would not think to count
the rest of the bananas, so
a trap was built to move them on.
As one by one they entered it,
they started feeling woebegone
until they realized that they
were getting food and water, too.
Their tiny ears and whiskers twitched
when bedding came! A rendezvous
was up and coming soon, they found,
as they were loaded on a truck.
They wound around the canyon while
they pondered whether this was luck.
But, yes, it was! At Mulholland
the door was loosed and they were free!
No house was near, but not to fear,
they'd have a lovely picnic tea!
So much for small things. The story? Or the mice, who actually were small? Think about the size of their tiny round eyeballs! Or the fact that the mice were actually house guests! There are layers of small, entangled things here, including my mind.
Miss Peach
So I'm lazy today. My house guest relatives have flown off into the wild blue yonder earlier this evening after four days of running around with little time in between events with extended family (not mine), 90th birthday celebrations, mountains, the beach, a red Mustang convertible to get to and fro and now back to work in the morning. A blitz trip! They weren't around long enough for us to have a laughing good time although it was pleasant.
My biggest laugh today was one I read in a magazine: What ball LOOKS good but doesn't bounce good? An eyeball. I thought that was funny, it's really two jokes. My relatives were not amused. Which I found funny! It's the small things in life that delight. The reader is probably not amused either...if there are any readers thus far.
Today I am re-visiting a true story that happened in the vintage month of September 1991, a small thing that delighted me, so I had to make a rhyme out of it then which still delights me.
The Mice Family
Well, once upon a time there was
a family of tiny mice
who lived up Laurel Canyon-way.
They were so cute, and they were nice.
They never interfered a lot
with people who lived in their house.
They did their errands, ate and slept
while being quiet as a mouse.
One day a ripe banana on
the frig they sampled peel and all.
They were not greedy, they left half
to rest within their banquet hall.
This was an error on their part.
They did not know to what amount
had they consumed the other half,
the people would not think to count
the rest of the bananas, so
a trap was built to move them on.
As one by one they entered it,
they started feeling woebegone
until they realized that they
were getting food and water, too.
Their tiny ears and whiskers twitched
when bedding came! A rendezvous
was up and coming soon, they found,
as they were loaded on a truck.
They wound around the canyon while
they pondered whether this was luck.
But, yes, it was! At Mulholland
the door was loosed and they were free!
No house was near, but not to fear,
they'd have a lovely picnic tea!
So much for small things. The story? Or the mice, who actually were small? Think about the size of their tiny round eyeballs! Or the fact that the mice were actually house guests! There are layers of small, entangled things here, including my mind.
Miss Peach
Labels:
banana,
entanglement,
eyeball,
house guests,
mice,
more mice,
relatives,
rhymes,
weak humor
Saturday, June 12, 2010
ALERT: *Religious* *Religious* *Religious*
10:05P Santa Monica time
I guess I want everybody to know that today I'm blogging something that may be offputting to most of you, but it's very exciting to ME. I wrote it up originally in my real journal on March 11, 2010 journal at 7:55A that morning, to wit:
I begin my out-loud prayers. I want to record them as they happen but it's too distracting, so I only jot down the highlights and write them up afterwards. I am awake and sitting up in bed to pray, my eyes open, my mouth going. I feel the presence of Jesus being in the room with me. We (Jesus and I) verify that with immediate tears this a.m. I hate the manifestation of tears but they happen sometimes. I know He's here.
I feel power in my hand from the Spirit, the same Spirit and power that is in Jesus that He gave to me. I pull my hand out from under the cover, lay it on top of my left hand under the cover over my heart and lungs. I pray that I have the power through Jesus. And I know I do, we verify that with tears, too. I pray further for a friend's numb face and bony knob on the right side of her hairline, for God/Jesus to heal her. I pray for power in my own hand, and for healing in my heart and lungs under my hand as I pray, for regeneration for my friend to her "original blueprint" in being God's/Jesus' original creation.
I feel a peace, like I've not felt before or wanted, in this early morning. I like the feel of the buzz of the Spirit working rather than the peace of the Spirit resting! But I know we need both.
I see a dove outside on the corner of our flat roof grooming him/her/itself. I see standing with his back against the wood door open in my bedroom a soldier in desert camouflage fatigues? Combat boots, adjusting his weapon over his shoulder, not in haste or panic, shifting his weight from foot to foot, not waiting, maybe a sentry. I pray for him, I ask Jesus to give him protection as tears come to my eyes, knowing he needs that protection, RIGHT NOW. He fades out against the wood door. I flesh out the prayer to cover the urgency, don't know where the soldier is, Iraq, Afghanistan, I don't know why I see him. We are two separate beings, passing today through two separate dimensions, perhaps; we will never know our influences on the other, but we are united by Jesus' love and protection.
I pray for personal friends and acquaintances, for those on my "prayer list". I do not get sleepy during this prayer. Time flies, almost an hour. I pray for God to use me as I already feel I am of use. I "sign off" and start to write it up!
END of journal entry
I've thought many times in the past three months about this interlude in my life, wondering what it all meant, glad I wrote it all down that morning right away or I wouldn't believe it happened that way. Time has a way of softening your memory, of making the edges disappear, but I see the edges very clearly around that soldier, who I still pray for from time to time.
Thanks for reading! Whadda ya think? I have a lot of things happen to me like that. Am I bonkers, or is it a gift? Or both?
I have friends, a pastor and his wife, who spend a Saturday night with me occasionally. We call my bedroom Motel Half, like Motel 6? Not a lot of amenities, but they do get to sleep on the California king-sized bed, clean sheets, lots of pillows, yet they bring their own towels, and breakfast is rye toast or English muffins with some fruit, maybe a smoothie. Sometimes they bring muffins with them, and we chat over coffee ice cream Saturday night before bed.
I was at Home Depot in the gardening area one day as we planned the coming-up weekend on our cells. The usual, because they had other places to go in town Saturday evening before they came to Motel Half, "We don't want to use you...we hate taking your bed," though I never feel used because we are so close. I said, "Oh, I don't mind, that way you get to sleep in the room where I have my visions, like the soldier in camouflage that time." I could hear an audible gulp in my ear on the cell. "Just teasing!" I said, as I laugh out loud.
I guess I want everybody to know that today I'm blogging something that may be offputting to most of you, but it's very exciting to ME. I wrote it up originally in my real journal on March 11, 2010 journal at 7:55A that morning, to wit:
I begin my out-loud prayers. I want to record them as they happen but it's too distracting, so I only jot down the highlights and write them up afterwards. I am awake and sitting up in bed to pray, my eyes open, my mouth going. I feel the presence of Jesus being in the room with me. We (Jesus and I) verify that with immediate tears this a.m. I hate the manifestation of tears but they happen sometimes. I know He's here.
I feel power in my hand from the Spirit, the same Spirit and power that is in Jesus that He gave to me. I pull my hand out from under the cover, lay it on top of my left hand under the cover over my heart and lungs. I pray that I have the power through Jesus. And I know I do, we verify that with tears, too. I pray further for a friend's numb face and bony knob on the right side of her hairline, for God/Jesus to heal her. I pray for power in my own hand, and for healing in my heart and lungs under my hand as I pray, for regeneration for my friend to her "original blueprint" in being God's/Jesus' original creation.
I feel a peace, like I've not felt before or wanted, in this early morning. I like the feel of the buzz of the Spirit working rather than the peace of the Spirit resting! But I know we need both.
I see a dove outside on the corner of our flat roof grooming him/her/itself. I see standing with his back against the wood door open in my bedroom a soldier in desert camouflage fatigues? Combat boots, adjusting his weapon over his shoulder, not in haste or panic, shifting his weight from foot to foot, not waiting, maybe a sentry. I pray for him, I ask Jesus to give him protection as tears come to my eyes, knowing he needs that protection, RIGHT NOW. He fades out against the wood door. I flesh out the prayer to cover the urgency, don't know where the soldier is, Iraq, Afghanistan, I don't know why I see him. We are two separate beings, passing today through two separate dimensions, perhaps; we will never know our influences on the other, but we are united by Jesus' love and protection.
I pray for personal friends and acquaintances, for those on my "prayer list". I do not get sleepy during this prayer. Time flies, almost an hour. I pray for God to use me as I already feel I am of use. I "sign off" and start to write it up!
END of journal entry
I've thought many times in the past three months about this interlude in my life, wondering what it all meant, glad I wrote it all down that morning right away or I wouldn't believe it happened that way. Time has a way of softening your memory, of making the edges disappear, but I see the edges very clearly around that soldier, who I still pray for from time to time.
Thanks for reading! Whadda ya think? I have a lot of things happen to me like that. Am I bonkers, or is it a gift? Or both?
I have friends, a pastor and his wife, who spend a Saturday night with me occasionally. We call my bedroom Motel Half, like Motel 6? Not a lot of amenities, but they do get to sleep on the California king-sized bed, clean sheets, lots of pillows, yet they bring their own towels, and breakfast is rye toast or English muffins with some fruit, maybe a smoothie. Sometimes they bring muffins with them, and we chat over coffee ice cream Saturday night before bed.
I was at Home Depot in the gardening area one day as we planned the coming-up weekend on our cells. The usual, because they had other places to go in town Saturday evening before they came to Motel Half, "We don't want to use you...we hate taking your bed," though I never feel used because we are so close. I said, "Oh, I don't mind, that way you get to sleep in the room where I have my visions, like the soldier in camouflage that time." I could hear an audible gulp in my ear on the cell. "Just teasing!" I said, as I laugh out loud.
Labels:
combat boots,
God,
Home Depot,
Jesus,
Motel 6,
prayers,
soldier,
visions,
weapon
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Hale-Bopp the Comet
07:55P Santa Monica time
I've been having a good time re-reading my journals in rhyme these past few days. Some things you truly forget in detail. Remember Hale-Bopp the comet? Of course, I couldn't let Hale-Bopp go by without some rhyme time. It was so exciting that you could see it with the naked eye in the city of Santa Monica from the street pavement! Here are three items from my 1997 rhyme diary:
Hale-Bopp the Comet (03/25/97 Tue)
Where's the comet?
I can't see it
when I stay inside.
If it'd stop to
pick us all up,
that would be some ride!
Hale-Bopp Revisited (04/01/97 Tue)
Hale-Bopp the Comet,
what a sight!
If you look up to the northwest,
there's its light;
With its million miles of tail
it is vast
and moving fast.
It's excitement in the sky
to see at night!
Reflections of a Comet (04/05/97 Sat)
Wouldn't it be funny if
the earth was in a comet's tail?
What if our little universe
was simply space debris?
It really wouldn't matter since
it wouldn't change our lives a bit
but thinking of it is a little
happy fantasy!
What really brought this to mind was not just re-reading the journals, but thinking how long ago 1997 seems now, thirteen years in real time but light years in technology. If anyone has a little extra time, you can get caught up like me in the Wikipedia link below.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Comet_Hale-Bopp
This next link is thumbnails of the Hubble telescope pics in all their glory, such a fantastic site, so much to see if you have time. This is why I never get a lot done, because I'm so easily sidetracked by my internet addiction. But this is simply awe inspiring! A hard internet site to click in and click out of directly.
http://heritage.stsci.edu/gallery/gallery.html
And since today is threes, last but not least, Wikipedia re the Hubble, but first two paragraphs are enough, plus the chart down the right hand side of the screen.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hubble_Space_Telescope
Well, I hope you have enjoyed sharing something you probably never thought you would think about again, Hale-Bopp, the Comet, as it goes zooming away, away, away until it returns around the year 4385 did Wikipedia say? Wonder where I'll be then! Wouldn't it be funny if I was standing out in the street looking for it again......
I've been having a good time re-reading my journals in rhyme these past few days. Some things you truly forget in detail. Remember Hale-Bopp the comet? Of course, I couldn't let Hale-Bopp go by without some rhyme time. It was so exciting that you could see it with the naked eye in the city of Santa Monica from the street pavement! Here are three items from my 1997 rhyme diary:
Hale-Bopp the Comet (03/25/97 Tue)
Where's the comet?
I can't see it
when I stay inside.
If it'd stop to
pick us all up,
that would be some ride!
Hale-Bopp Revisited (04/01/97 Tue)
Hale-Bopp the Comet,
what a sight!
If you look up to the northwest,
there's its light;
With its million miles of tail
it is vast
and moving fast.
It's excitement in the sky
to see at night!
Reflections of a Comet (04/05/97 Sat)
Wouldn't it be funny if
the earth was in a comet's tail?
What if our little universe
was simply space debris?
It really wouldn't matter since
it wouldn't change our lives a bit
but thinking of it is a little
happy fantasy!
What really brought this to mind was not just re-reading the journals, but thinking how long ago 1997 seems now, thirteen years in real time but light years in technology. If anyone has a little extra time, you can get caught up like me in the Wikipedia link below.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Comet_Hale-Bopp
This next link is thumbnails of the Hubble telescope pics in all their glory, such a fantastic site, so much to see if you have time. This is why I never get a lot done, because I'm so easily sidetracked by my internet addiction. But this is simply awe inspiring! A hard internet site to click in and click out of directly.
http://heritage.stsci.edu/gallery/gallery.html
And since today is threes, last but not least, Wikipedia re the Hubble, but first two paragraphs are enough, plus the chart down the right hand side of the screen.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hubble_Space_Telescope
Well, I hope you have enjoyed sharing something you probably never thought you would think about again, Hale-Bopp, the Comet, as it goes zooming away, away, away until it returns around the year 4385 did Wikipedia say? Wonder where I'll be then! Wouldn't it be funny if I was standing out in the street looking for it again......
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
My Favorite Restaurant - Gilbert's El Indio in Santa Monica
11:45P Santa Monica time
On my way home from our Bible Study group last night, I decided not to fix something with the mushrooms in my frig, but to go to.....Gilbert's!
I'm always comfortable at Gilbert's. Last night I had the booth by the waiters/kitchen entrance. A party of four might not want that spot, but I like it. Lots of to-ings and fro-ings so I never feel lonely. Everybody is friendly with me, consistent good service, and last night the veggie burrito was the best I ever had, anyplace, ever! Covered with red enchilada sauce, that reddish-brownish-tinge-one I love (I ask for that instead of the green), melted cheese all over the top, a huge veggie burrito on the plate, a perfect combination of rice and beans, cheese, lettuce, tomato, slices of avocado all wrapped tidily in a humungous flour tortilla. There must be a secret ingredient tucked away in there, too, or it couldn't be so good. Not spicy; if you like spicy like I do, you eat your burrito with the "nicely spicely" salsa brought to your table with the fresh hot tortilla chips, both refillable if you have the room.
I started this out to be a blog rave, but it's turning out to be a blog ad! I might as well convert it now. The only thing I haven't mentioned is the little bowl of raw carrot "checkers" as Roy used to call carrot slices cut in rounds, marinated in vinegar with onion slices, raw garlic chunks and various green herbs, with some hot red peppers to pretty and spice the serving even more. Oh, yes, and the delicious bottomless iced tea is served with a lemon wedge in handy, easy to hold screw top jars.
Oh, yes, I forget, there are various pitchers of margaritas and beer selections I see on many other tables, but I'm an iced tea person. Which is why my check is only $5.55 for that colossal burrito, plus the tab for iced tea and that nasty (sigh...) 9-3/4% California sales tax! I add the gratuity in true gratitude for the team of people involved in contributing to my pleasure.
Gilbert's is not a vegetarian place, they offer a full Mexican menu and specials. Add meat as a side or your main course, but this veggie burrito with red sauce is worth your time! Don't bring your credit card or checkbook to Gilbert's, it's cash only.
Sign the list at the door when you arrive in the evening hours and plan to wait a little bit at busy times, but it's worth it, and you might make some new friends.
Gilbert's El Indio, 2526 Pico Boulevard, Santa Monica, CA 310 450 8057
So much for Gilbert's right now, my favorite restaurant!
On my way home from our Bible Study group last night, I decided not to fix something with the mushrooms in my frig, but to go to.....Gilbert's!
I'm always comfortable at Gilbert's. Last night I had the booth by the waiters/kitchen entrance. A party of four might not want that spot, but I like it. Lots of to-ings and fro-ings so I never feel lonely. Everybody is friendly with me, consistent good service, and last night the veggie burrito was the best I ever had, anyplace, ever! Covered with red enchilada sauce, that reddish-brownish-tinge-one I love (I ask for that instead of the green), melted cheese all over the top, a huge veggie burrito on the plate, a perfect combination of rice and beans, cheese, lettuce, tomato, slices of avocado all wrapped tidily in a humungous flour tortilla. There must be a secret ingredient tucked away in there, too, or it couldn't be so good. Not spicy; if you like spicy like I do, you eat your burrito with the "nicely spicely" salsa brought to your table with the fresh hot tortilla chips, both refillable if you have the room.
I started this out to be a blog rave, but it's turning out to be a blog ad! I might as well convert it now. The only thing I haven't mentioned is the little bowl of raw carrot "checkers" as Roy used to call carrot slices cut in rounds, marinated in vinegar with onion slices, raw garlic chunks and various green herbs, with some hot red peppers to pretty and spice the serving even more. Oh, yes, and the delicious bottomless iced tea is served with a lemon wedge in handy, easy to hold screw top jars.
Oh, yes, I forget, there are various pitchers of margaritas and beer selections I see on many other tables, but I'm an iced tea person. Which is why my check is only $5.55 for that colossal burrito, plus the tab for iced tea and that nasty (sigh...) 9-3/4% California sales tax! I add the gratuity in true gratitude for the team of people involved in contributing to my pleasure.
Gilbert's is not a vegetarian place, they offer a full Mexican menu and specials. Add meat as a side or your main course, but this veggie burrito with red sauce is worth your time! Don't bring your credit card or checkbook to Gilbert's, it's cash only.
Sign the list at the door when you arrive in the evening hours and plan to wait a little bit at busy times, but it's worth it, and you might make some new friends.
Gilbert's El Indio, 2526 Pico Boulevard, Santa Monica, CA 310 450 8057
So much for Gilbert's right now, my favorite restaurant!
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Our Cats and Life July 02 1991 Archive
12:50A Santa Monica time
I was keeping my diary in rhyme in 1991, a stressful year when Roy had a heart valve replaced in January (a St. Jude 23 mechanical model). St. Jude had a reputation for quality and NO failures which we were happy to accept, although we followed the Wall Street Journal faithfully to see if St. Jude was ever mentioned. Roy died at 80 of other maladies in 2008, the St. Jude still clicking away to the end, a unpaid testimony for St. Jude!
My Diary on July 02, 1991:
Maria tucks her head beneath her paw,
Domingo stretches out, quite self-possessed.
Juanita cleans her fur, she's at her best;
Evita's on the chair. She needs her rest.
Roy's tucked between his covers once again,
He's snoring just a bit, but that's okay.
He went to cardiac rehab today.
Life's looking better now, I'm glad to say.
My covers have two cats. There is no law
That says one can't have cats upon the bed
Or that cats have to eat what they are fed
Or that they have to go where they are led.
Sometimes I think how dull life would have been
If things had not occurred the way they did,
For just one cat starts fun to pyramid,
Now we have four, no more, may God forbid.
Miss Peach
I was keeping my diary in rhyme in 1991, a stressful year when Roy had a heart valve replaced in January (a St. Jude 23 mechanical model). St. Jude had a reputation for quality and NO failures which we were happy to accept, although we followed the Wall Street Journal faithfully to see if St. Jude was ever mentioned. Roy died at 80 of other maladies in 2008, the St. Jude still clicking away to the end, a unpaid testimony for St. Jude!
My Diary on July 02, 1991:
Maria tucks her head beneath her paw,
Domingo stretches out, quite self-possessed.
Juanita cleans her fur, she's at her best;
Evita's on the chair. She needs her rest.
Roy's tucked between his covers once again,
He's snoring just a bit, but that's okay.
He went to cardiac rehab today.
Life's looking better now, I'm glad to say.
My covers have two cats. There is no law
That says one can't have cats upon the bed
Or that cats have to eat what they are fed
Or that they have to go where they are led.
Sometimes I think how dull life would have been
If things had not occurred the way they did,
For just one cat starts fun to pyramid,
Now we have four, no more, may God forbid.
Miss Peach
Labels:
cardiac rehab,
Cats,
humor,
Miss Peach,
rhymes,
St. Jude heart valve,
stress,
Wall Street Journal
Friday, June 4, 2010
Miss Peach Blogs for the First Time
Friday June 04 2010 09:45P Santa Monica time
Hello to the world!
This is Miss Peach, author of 20,000 pages of journals plus yards and yards of texts in the last five years, some funny, some not-so-funny, some grim, some ecstatic, some spiritual, some earthly, as everybody's past five years must have been, wonderful, touching, bittersweet.
I would love to share ideas and good news with others who need to blog or respond for the same reason I do, filled to bursting with Things needing to be written, laughed about, cried about, thought about, read, re-read, shared without intruding on the captive audience of pastor, family and friends.
Does that sound like a Fantasy or a Plan? Unfortunately, the only readers of this first blog will be those captives above-mentioned and hopefully in the future, a stranger or two or three. Wouldn't that just be grand?
Miss Peach
Hello to the world!
This is Miss Peach, author of 20,000 pages of journals plus yards and yards of texts in the last five years, some funny, some not-so-funny, some grim, some ecstatic, some spiritual, some earthly, as everybody's past five years must have been, wonderful, touching, bittersweet.
I would love to share ideas and good news with others who need to blog or respond for the same reason I do, filled to bursting with Things needing to be written, laughed about, cried about, thought about, read, re-read, shared without intruding on the captive audience of pastor, family and friends.
Does that sound like a Fantasy or a Plan? Unfortunately, the only readers of this first blog will be those captives above-mentioned and hopefully in the future, a stranger or two or three. Wouldn't that just be grand?
Miss Peach
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