Monday, October 19, 2009

A Beautiful Poem:


Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even dull and ignorant; they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexations to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace with your soul. With all its shams, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Strive to be happy.

"The Author: Originally attributed to an unknown author and found in
Old Saint Paul's Church, Baltimore, U.S.A.Dated 1692
I've received the following e-mail stating otherwise. Regardless of it's source, it's the words that really matter to us.
The e-mail " From this web site : I believe this to be among the best of poetry, though one person in my life comes close. I enjoy his muse.

Have a wonderful day.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

I wonder...

Have you read this?

I wonder how accurate people believe this post is. Judging by the lackadaisical way the post is written, it could be that the person writing it believes in alien space craft, but where's the "Headline News" story that corroborates the claim?

I'd like to believe that we aren't alone in the universe, but ... well ...

Show me the proof. Where did the "research" come from? Heinlein? Moore?

Come on folks, get real. Life isn't like a romance novel, therefore it can't be like a science fiction novel either. (***psst... that's why they call it fiction***)


Thursday, October 8, 2009

J's Rock

My daughter J got a rock one day; I found it as I was rummaging through a junk drawer looking for a 5/8ths drill bit. It was just there, for what reason I can't recall. An odd little oval shaped thing with no character to speak of. Kind of small, gray, and dull, to me any way. My little J was so excited she squealed. "Tee my wrock Papa?" She giggled to my dad.
He seemed quite impressed, as was my mom and nearly everyone else. I couldn't see why. I felt like a mean mom for wondering why everybody else understood but me. I didn't say anything to her, but I watched.
We went to the store to get some milk for breakfast. J took her rock along. She showed everyone. Some people smiled at her, others ignored her entirely, and a few stopped to see it and tell her how wonderful it was.
One woman told her it was "pretty" and I thought to myself, why tell her that? It's just an ugly rock. Another woman stopped and said, "Can I have the rock sweetie?"J looked very sad and stared at her rock, but she handed it to the woman. Thankfully, the woman didn't keep it, but gave it back after a few seconds."Teeteu!" J said happily, as she hugged it to her heart. "’tis is my wrock."She kept that rock in her fist or in her pocket all day, taking it out to cradle it and hug it.
I was amazed at her dedication to such a humble little thing. She scarcely has the patience to watch her favorite TV program, but the rock inspired total devotion in my child.
At night, J put the rock under the edge of her pillow to keep it safe. It fell off the bed and chipped off a tiny piece, lying there until she got up and found it the next day. She toted it around as she had the day before.After a while, she brought it to me. "Tee my rock Mama?" She smiled at me with that incredible little face, you know the kind, the melt your heart; turn your knees to butter, incredible throat constricting joy of your life face.
I took the rock, determined to see the beauty in it. I found the chipped place and was astonished to see a fire flecked pool of milky white shining from that ordinary pebble. It was an opal. My little girl had fallen in love with an ordinary, dirty, humble, little stone and it turned out to be a nearly flawless creamy opal.
As I handed it back to her, I had to wonder how many other ugly stones in my life were actually opals in disguise. I remember another rock I stuffed away in a drawer somewhere. Humble, serene, temperate, and compassionate. His name was Jesus and he was far more beautiful inside than an opal could ever be. I have much to rethink in my life. Thank you, J.

Friday, September 11, 2009


There is so much that could be said, but I haven't the words.

Simply put, we continue to mourn our losses and comfort each other, all while shaking our fist in the face of tyranny and leading terrorists into the flames where they belong.

Monday, July 27, 2009

Changing times

Have you ever had a job that you simply loved? Some where you wanted to be? Doing exactly what you most enjoyed doing?

I have. I do right now.

The problem is, when you get a gung ho newbie in the building as your boss and he wants to "re-vamp" the process. That's where I am now.

The new guy wants to re-process the way things are. He wants to mess up all the progress, and make it fit his "vision" of the way things should be. I'm frustrated and angry.

I'm seriously considering going elsewhere, but then I think about how much I love my job.

Little Tombs is fiddling with the perfection of my existence, and I'm not sure what to do.

I want to keep doing my job, I want to be happy doing my job, and I want to slap the silly "two-faced" smile right off his fatuous face.

I am not giving up. I refuse to bow in the face if tyranny! lol
Sheesh Syringa, you are pissy today.

Thursday, July 9, 2009

my very own Meme

Well, what is a meme? Not a clue and too lazy to look it up, but now that my friend G-man has tagged me, I suppose I'll give it a shot.

this is the list I'll be using:

1.) Home

2.) Dogs

3.) Fears

4.) Pet Peeves

5.) Movies

6.) Hobbies

7.) Odd Food Preferences

I took off the last one, 8.) Political Concerns, because I'm not interested in Politics. Not at all, not in the slightest, zip, zilch, nada.

1.) Home

My home life is wonderful. I have three awesome children, one of which is all grown up and moved out. My other two are separated in age by nearly 11 years, crazy, wonderful, and totally unique.

I have two cats, no I'm not a cat fan, but my kids needed to learn how to care for helpless things and the cats were my route to teach them.

I live in a small town that I consider home, as opposed to other places I have lived that I considered temporary houses.

I have good friends that I consider to be the highlight of my middle age. Some of which are very close, and others are "outdoor" friends.

I have a job that I love, I enjoy it to the point that I look forward to getting up in the morning, just to get to work early. I enjoy my co-workers, the daily tasks, the random changes, and the opportunity to learn new things.

Home is great, wonderful children, no man/father figure, just happy us. But some times I wish... (nope, not gonna happen.)

2.) Dogs

I prefer dogs as pets, over cats, but living in a small apartment I am less able to have a dog. I've had some amazing dogs through out my life, ranging from American Eskimos to Pomeranians. I liked the Eskie best.

3.) Fears

I have a few fears. Mostly I fear failing my kids, my family, my friends, and my parents.

I'm afraid of change, which is why I embrace it every chance I get. I believe that giving in to your fears only increases them, and I'm not about to let a little mental challenge get in the way of something I want to do.

I'm afraid to let people get close to me, having been battered and abused in my earlier life. I'm afraid to love anyone, except my children and my family. I'm working on that one. Having close friends as I do now is difficult at times, because I really like them and have to force myself to open up.

4.) Pet Peeves

Liars! can't stand them, won't ever like them. Dull razors, irritating, always cut myself. Whining grouchy people. Why bother, wait a few minutes, life will change.

5.) Movies

Ohhhh... The Chronicles of Riddick, Pitch Black, Gran Torino, Lord of the Rings (all three), Twilight, nearly anything with Harrison Ford... long list....

6.) Hobbies

Doing stuff with my kids, drawing, painting, reading, swimming, being still (my form of meditation) like a bump on a log, learning new and exciting things.

7.) Odd Food Preferences

I like sour things, like vinegar and lemon on nearly everything. Weird? Sure, but you gotta try it (right Bluewolfess?). I like wacky things, like carmel sauce on a peanut butter sandwich, cornchips in my salads, cream cheese on a waffle, and sour cream on prime rib. The list is long... again. lol

Ok, so now that I've finished my Meme... I'll have to think of someone to tag.... watch out, it might be you.

Kharis Syringa...

Monday, June 29, 2009

Just a fun little fractal

I thought I'd share the fractal that I made the other day. I'm sure it's nothing new, but it's pretty and I like it.
Have a great day.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

A short story

E.C. Lost and Found, IS, Inc.

Jeanie sat in the window seat of her tiny apartment, looking through the want ads in the newspaper. After she’d read for a while a small ad stood out.

“Are you adopted? Looking for a long lost friend or relative perhaps? (E.C.) Lost and Found, Is, Inc.
We Can help.
Call today to set up your search. (555) 555-5515.”

Jeanie blinked. Well, it was worth a shot. Everyone else had failed to find out what she needed to know. Dialing the phone, she was quickly answered by a kindly female voice.

“Yes? This is Marie at Lost and Found Inc. May I help you today?”

Jeanie took a deep breath, “Well, Ma’am, I’d like to see if you can find someone for me.” So far so good, Jeanie thought. “I need you to find m-me.” She waited tensely for the laughter it didn’t usually take long. All she heard was a whispered repeat of what she’d said like the woman was taking notes.
“Yes, dear. I will need to ask you several questions to get the search started. Could you come by the office today?” The woman at the other end asked politely.

Stunned, Jeanie stammered, “y-yes, I can be there in less than an hour if that’s a good time for you?”

“As soon as you arrive, dear. May I have your name please?”

“Jeanie, I mean I think its Jeanie Colet. I’ll be right there.” Jeanie rushed around the room tearing off her old gray sweat suit and tugging on a nice pair of slacks and her favorite blue shirt. She raced out the door, nearly forgetting her keys. She whipped down the stairs and into the subway.

Exactly forty-eight minutes later, she stood outside a modest looking office in mid-town. She nervously fumbled a tic tac into her mouth. Breathing deeply to calm herself, she entered, sucking furiously on the mint.

Across the gently lit waiting area she spotted an older lady seated behind a large oak desk. The woman smiled kindly as Jeanie stepped hesitantly forward.

“You must be Jeanie Colet, yes?” the woman asked warmly.

“Yes Ma’am. I am.”

“Come dear, let’s go into the back and begin shall we?” The woman turned and led Jeanie through a door behind the desk. “My name is Marie, as I believe I may have told you on the phone.” She indicated that Jeanie sit in a comfortable chair in a small office. “I’ll be asking you a great many questions, and then there are a few tests too to lock you into the system. Does that sound ok to you?” Marie smiled gently.

Jeanie nodded, still nervous. “I would love to get started, but first I have to ask what this will cost. You know how tight money can be.” She smiled self-consciously.

“Tut, dear. This is a non-profit business. Our service will not cost you a dime.” Marie smiled.

Relieved, Jeanie agreed to the process. She spent the next two hours answering question after question about every detail of her life since she found herself in the hospital. Every tiny little detail was sifted and mulled then Marie would ask another question, writing copious notes as they went along. Jeanie felt as though her entire body was on fire with anticipation, and a large dose of dread. What if she turned out to be a murderer, or a thief, or some other type of criminal! The horror! What if she were married?

Jeanie sat and fretted as she watched Marie write her notes. At last, Marie looked up at her and said, “We are done here, now lets get the tests completed so we can find you fast, ok?” Her eyes were kind, filled with a kind of sympathy that Jeanie hadn’t seen in any of the detectives or the police that she’d worked with in the past year.

Following Marie down the hall, she stepped into a tiny lab. Standing near the sink was a tall black man with the nicest face she’d seen in simply ages.

“Jeanie, meet Charles. He’s our lab technician and he’ll be taking some blood for DNA typing. I’ll leave you here for now.” Marie walked out the door to return to the front.

Charles gave her a quick grin. “Marie likes you, I can tell.” He indicated that she sit. “I guess that means I will have to be careful of you. She’s very protective you know, and I don’t want her banging my head for hurting you.” He had a very calming voice, deep in the baritone range with a rusty texture. Jeanie decided he was great almost immediately and began to relax.

“I’ll be as gentle as a mosquito bite,” He chuckled. “Unless you are from Alaska, then it won’t hurt that much.

Jeanie nodded, not catching the joke. She watched impassively as Charles drew the blood, then said goodbye and thanks as he left with the sample.

Marie reappeared to take her to the MRI and EEG, and then left her with another man for a quick psych evaluation. Jeanie was dragging with exhaustion when she finally opened the door to her apartment that evening. Marie’s last comment was ringing in her ears, “Our lists are far better than the police lists, dear. We’ll find you in no time.” Jeanie thought the woman had seemed almost smug as she said it.

The week passed slowly, Jeanie chewed her nails with anxiety. Millions of scenarios flew through her mind as she stood near the tiny window breathing in the muggy night air. A sudden gust brought the faint scent of salt to her nose, recalling the nightmarish day at the hospital when she’d woken to find herself a blank slate. She had no recollection of her life, her name was a guess, her clothes were gone, but for the swim gear that had only the initials J. C. on them.

No one knew her; no one came looking for her. She was a miserable young woman without a past. The police couldn’t help; all the leads were dead ends. The detectives were just as useless. For a long wretched year, she’d had no luck what ever.

Three weeks had passed. Jeanie called Marie. “Have you found me yet?” She almost begged.

“Jeanie dear, we haven’t found you on the national list, or the international yet, but we still have several countries to check. I’m betting that we’ll finish the last of them by the end of this week. I’m certain that you’ll get that call by then.” Marie said reassuringly. “I promise I’ll call as soon as I know anything, ok.”

Jeanie hung up the phone, frowning. What if they finished the lists and she wasn’t on either one?

Days passed. Jeanie paced, fretting and chewing at her fingernail. “Ouch!” She cried as she bit too deep. The doorbell rang. Jeanie nearly jumped out of her skin. She ran for the door.

Peeking through the spy hole, she saw a tall clean-cut man with the most amazing blue eyes she’d ever seen. “Who is it?” She called out.

The man held up a badge the showed the Lost and Found logo and his picture. “Pardon me for dropping by Ms. Colet; I felt you might like the information as quickly as possible. My name is Jason Molera. I work in the third division of L&F. May I come in?”

Jeanie quickly slid the lock open and let him in. “please do come in Mr. Molera. Have a seat, may I get you anything?” Her voice shook with tension.

Jason sat, “Now, please do not worry over me, my dear. Let’s get to the knit shall we?” He took a large sheaf of papers from the case he had, and laid them carefully on the table. One by one, he flipped through them. With a slight cough, he began to talk. Jeanie thought he seemed a bit nervous.

“Your real name is Jan’E Col V’Noria. Your father works in transportation, his name is Kleint V’Noria. Your mother is a fashion designer, her name is Flessa. You have two brothers, both older, one Kothi the other Aarin. Your two sisters are older as well, Ori and Pricelle.” He cleared his throat again.

“You are twenty six years old, never married, and work with your mother.” As he paused, Jeanie thought over the names, they seemed very familiar. No sudden flash of clarity came, although she urged herself to remember with all her might.

Jason pulled another sheet to the fore. “You like to surf. That was how you had the accident. During a vacation trip with your boyfriend Chel, you were hit in the head by his board as he was thrown from it by a large wave. He was taken to one hospital, you to another. He recovered with in just a few days, while you woke up well before him and remembered nothing. So, at the time you needed someone to look for you, he was still unconscious. When he came to, you had already left the hospital to stay at the shelter. And new being news, you got shifted to the back burner by that monsoon in Guatemala, and Chel assumed you’d gone home.”

“Mr. Molera, I still don’t…” She paused as he wordlessly handed her a photograph. She saw herself standing on the beach with her arms around a beautiful woman. She saw the pink tinged waves, the distant flare of light glinting off the snowcapped peaks of a jagged mountain across the sparkling water, the blue light of the suns casting purple shadows around every tiny rock and bit of flotsam.

“That’s your mother, my dear. She’s looking forward to seeing you.” He cleared his voice again, nervously. “Miss Colet? The reason you weren’t found very quickly was because you were neither on the national list nor the international. You were on the interstellar list.” He looked distinctly worried as she smiled up into his face.

“I know. I remember now.” She grinned with delight. “It all came back when I saw Mama and me on the beach at Antarra. It was my first trip to Antarres Prime. I remember it all!” She jumped to her feet and threw her arms into the air in exultation.

Later that night Jason sat with Marie at the Blue Moon Lounge, they sipped quietly at their wine with a great sense of satisfaction.

“I love our job.” Marie said with a sigh.

“Me too, mom.” Jason grinned. “I just wish we could do that for everyone that comes in.” He raised his glass. “To the Earth Chapter, Lost and Found, Interstellar, Incorporated.”

The end… maybe.

Good Morning

I am new to this blogging thing, but thought I'd give it a try. Stay tuned for more...
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