Lammas 14

The birth of anything is joyous and worth the pain. As you are birthed to what you should be, know that there will be pain but it will pass quickly. In childbirth, there is more pain than many would ever imagine and that feels far from joyous at the moment. Yet when the child lies in the arms of the one who suffered, the magic of love not only eases the pain but pushes it to a very special memory. A memory of endurance for having sustained such labor and earned such a reward. Birth is like that for good reason.

Sea See Rider

I am talking to myself cause you probably won’t hear or like what I have to say. Print is talk heard with the eyes. Words tattoo with permanent ink. Writers speak long after they shut up. My writer has been quiet. Words felt yet mere embryos of any importance. Zygotes all hoping to make it full term. Can’t force those little fuckers out too soon. Words must walk out on the own. Parade them on demand and they die in the fakery. Should have been aborted zombies painful on the eyes. So waiting was the way. Other things were the way. Feeling.

There is a newness to this place of life. Each thought to make things happen is bound, beaten to submission, and caged until it remembers that it is me pretending to be God, Goddess, and Big Kahuna. The Muses run a tight slave ship. I learn the flow of truth lash by lash. We are to let things happen. We are to trust. So I honor this newness and move in ways that are more and more mine with less and less struggle. As the song said, Let It Be.

The writer feels the words moving to the light now. The cauldron of creativity bubbles. It will ooze forth gently or explode on its own accord. When it is ready. I am merely the vessel. Still, old habits pop up like pimples now and then for this adolescent senior prodigy. A week ago I wrote something because I could. A writing exercise. An academic foray to prove something to myself. Right out of Creative Writing 101. A writing about something you see everyday. My muscles ached for movement and I obeyed their call to arms.

Green Rug

Just one of too many made by forgotten hands in places far away. A second of a moment on a assembly line day unmarked by the maker or the made. Strangers as several other things and then it was what it became, destined for a way station on its way to wherever it would end up being.

A too quick birthing followed by a too fast movement, it barely knew what it was and then it was clueless about where it was. Moment drowned by moments. From here into there and then on to the bells and whistles of needs and wants. Existing in a whirlwind of motion to the unknown then cast adrift in continuous darkness. There was only time to feel. Learning would come later, if at all.

Then light. Lined and presented and shown. A place of exchange. Some form of graduation. Acceptance. Something. This was close to what was supposed to be. Instincts guided. A gateway? A portal? Something. It was quietly exciting in this warm place of lights and the company of others.

Selection. A movement alone. Different than all the other movements. The other movements crushed with similarities in pressing darkness. This was a jumble. Such variety. So much diversity. A cornucopia of amazing newness. Space between bottoms and tops and along side. Shorter motions. Jerkier movements. Then the burst of air. Freedom washed over me and all was well.

Stretched and placed. Alone. In perfect design of what was meant to be. Wet and dry and wet again. Pressed upon and then cleaned. Valued. Part of something. Moved. Moved?

Why this move? Why this different place? Warmer. Drier. So very different. Time to adjust. This is not the plan. This is unusual. This is special. Yes, that’s it. Special. The others like me, all those kindred spirits from that same place so long ago, are likely where I was. Now I am in a place unlike any of them. Along side things. In a place more frequented. Yes, that’s it. There is more life here and I am part of it.

Life would have been good at that place of design. Life is sweeter and richer in this unusual turn where things become more than they were meant to be. Things like me. I was created. Now I am of creativity. Out of the box to an out of the box place for an out of the box usage. I am special. Unique. At least for my kind. Is there any other kind of unique? To be more than you were meant to be. I like it. It suits me. It thrills me. I am more and being more is just right. I would have been content. Now I am joyous. Much, much better.

Sometimes we do things to remind ourselves we still can. Big freaking deal. I like the little ditty about the Green Rug. In the big scheme of things, it just doesn’t matter though. It was me checking my pulse. It was worse that talking to myself. It was writing to myself. It was writing for myself. My writing isn’t for me. It is for others long after I am dust to the children of the children of the sparkles in my eye. This piece is for me. The real peace is what is pushed though me for others. I am a writer. These are just words. Messages in a bottle on the sea of see me if you can. Surf’s up and the words will crash to the sure and wash some sins away. Beginning with my own.

Lammas 13

There are warriors and there are wounded. Treat each separately for the needs are not only different, the needs are opposite. The diet of the wounded would weaken the warrior and the diet of the warrior would further cripple the wounded. Pray not to the SOURCE for ways to slow the pace but pray for the Power to handle the pace since the pace is right. The warriors run to the pace while the weak wish all would slow so they can follow. Victories are won with joyous progress forward.

Lammas 12

The full moon in Lammas is a moon of change. Dramatic changes seen long ago that now move to completion. The fullness of the moon is the finality of the change and the beginning of the new. Look not back at the time and events that lead to the changes. Look at the changes and what can be done with them that will improve things for all. Lammas is that time. Grain long coming now ready to nourish and fuel.

Lammas 11

There is joy in the feel of the earth and the quiet of the night. Feel the cleansing nature of the rain as it cascades from above to below you and waters your thirst for peace. Sit on the mountain and see the expanse of the valley. Pause in the valley and savor the majesty of the mountain. Plant to grow. Smell the fragrance of the flowers and enjoy the zest of fruits and vegetables.

Find the inside of yourself outside. Be of and with the earth and there you will be grounded. When it is hot, there is shade. In the cold, there is fire. When adrift, plant yourself by a river and your path will be clear.

The Flat Iron Building (For my daughter, Kristen Wood.....Happy Birthday)

My daughter, Kristen, and I went looking for the Flat Iron Building one day and couldn’t find it. It should have been easy to find. A landmark building on a landmark island in a landmark city. The Flat Iron is more than an office building. It is an Icon. A district of the City is named after it. It shows up in commercials and shows just like the Empire State Building, Rockefeller Plaza, and the World Trade Center, before. The Flat Iron was featured in tons of movies like…….well, tons of movies. Still, it eluded Kristen and I that day.

We even asked for directions. Yes, reluctantly. One guy looked at me like I was strange. “The Flat Iron Building? What is that?” Come on. What is that? Kristen and I toured the financial district that day. Walked what is kinda the other end of Manhattan for this boy from New Jersey. That is because she and I took the boat from the Highlands rather than the Keansburg-Long Branch bus to the City. The boat ride takes longer and costs more. But it’s a boat ride on the Raritan Bay and that is cool. Saw Sandy Hook and the underside of the Verrazano. Then saw the Brooklyn Bridge and knew exactly what she and I would do that day. We would walk across the Brooklyn Bridge. The Flat Iron became a Quixotic side trip. I didn’t even know the goal that day would be to walk across my favorite bridge in the whole world. Knew it the instant it came into view that day. Suddenly it seemed very right on that specific trip back home for this Jersey boy.

Kristen knew Jersey through my eyes and too few visits. She knew NYC in similar ways and even fewer trips. We were back in the Garden State for a visit. One of the mandatory ones. My mom would have been really pissed if I didn’t come home for her funeral. She was buried the day before Krissie and I took that boat ride to New York City. I needed to get away. Kristen needed to be with me. Rest assured, it wasn’t to bask in my strength that day. I didn’t feel too strong. Felt kinda zombie-ish. Moving through life without much passion. It was nice to go to the City with my daughter and have her be alright with me being quiet or fake and a few other things.

The Brooklyn Bridge became the goal. My mother was born in Brooklyn. She had a Brooklyn Passport she kept in her drawer for years. Not sure where it ended up but it was gone too. Had always loved the Brooklyn Bridge. It was from a long time ago. It was strong and beautiful and special and touched many, many people. Today would be my day to touch it and just let it was comfort me. Kristen was along for the trip.

She and I didn’t find the Flat Iron building that day when we decided we would see it, too. First we looked, then we were a bit frustrated, and later, and since, we laughed that it eluded us. We walked the Brooklyn Bridge that day though. Just me and a special girl I love very, very much. It was just what I needed that day. Sometimes we just need someone by our side.

Didn’t cross over into Brooklyn. Sometimes just walking on the bridge to a place is enough. Plus, I didn’t have a Brooklyn passport any more.

Happy Birthday, Kris. Thanks for being there. I love you, Dad.

Pea Gravel Miracle

Someone wished me well today and pea gravel appeared just as needed. Not sure who wished me well but they did just this afternoon. Once they did, the other stuff kicked into motion. Pea gravel went from a need to a reality that quickly. The positive energy of a well wished well wish changed the flow of things.

The first time I saw the ad for free pea gravel the other day, it was an hour old and already gone. Poof! Before I had a chance to act, someone else did. Some around me felt a bit of woe. Some opportunity missed feeling. Kinda natural. We needed pea gravel, someone offered a bunch free, and we missed it. Drats.

I was actually reassured. It showed me that pea gravel, or anything else needed, will surface when needed. Yes, that batch found another home. Something else would come though….just what needed when needed. I was happy as a lark. The fleeting pea gravel reassured. Things get to those that need. One person’s excess pea gravel is another person’s treasure. How cool is that?

Emailed the person that listed the pea gravel. Said if things changed, I would happily give the pea gravel a good home. That was a few days ago. My vigilance in watching the free websites did increase in the meantime. Pea gravel or something just right for the path in the blossoming tire garden would surface soon.

Then today someone wished me well. If you are that person, you know it. Thanks. Once you wished me well, the phone rang. It was 12:51 this afternoon. The man with the pea gravel said it was mine if I was still interested. Interested? I was ecstatic and let him know it. Would make as many trips as necessary tomorrow and get as much as was available and possible. Woooooo Hooooooo. I thank my well wisher. Will play it forward. Many times. After all, pea gravel makes for nice path ways.

Time Shadows

Hope brushes you as a breeze.

Kiss your shadow good-bye.

Bid your fears farewell.

See where you run.

Untouchable.

Exposed.

Shadow man.

Feminine Light.

Fire behind.

Flames ahead.

Burn clean and pure.

Embers fuel passion.

Innocent Soul dance.

Winds of trust calm.

Child knows grown up things.

Tomorrow’s gift plays without time.

Unpointing hands.

Opened arms.

Blank faces see.

Hourglass figures.

Some hide in yesterday.

Sirened by echoes.

Souls see light ahead.

Eyes beacon and beckoned.

Freeze tag time.

Kiss yesterday tenderly.

Embrace today warmly.

Love tomorrow now.

Lammas 10

Desires can drive and that is alright. Desires that inspire action drive success or at least push us on the path as we journey to perceived happiness and wants. Desires that fuel wanderlust and heat envy though are to be viewed with caution and even disdain.

Tap into your own desires. Run them around the taste buds of your mind and find if they are sweet or bittersweet. If bittersweet, let them not taint the feast of life. Spit them out and leave them on the path as you journey forth. If those desires are sweet, let them fill you for these are not empty calories but fuel for the engine of your soul.

Desires can be filled and that reward is sweetest when earned. Learn of the desires of those in your charge as well for this is powerful knowledge. Knowledge that can enhance your ability to forge their loyalty as you meet their desires.

Dark

Sitting in sadness. On the edge of polluted waters of the dirtied soul. The banks of your own personal River Styx. Decay in the air. Sludge stagnates the pristine. Dust where there used to be air. Tears without reason ooze like pus. Things are dead here. Unburied corpses thought forgotten invade with pungent rot.

All this. Just on the other side of the sunflower laden hill. Mere steps from the tire swing on the sweet tree of life.

There is time to play and time for damage control. Toxic waste waits for the gravedigger’s return. Grab your pail and shovel, child. Your back yard needs tending.

Lammas 9

Each of the senses can offer comfort. Learn of these things so that you may ease the burden of others in tribe as well as those in herd when required. The ears are the ones that offer most comfort for listening is an art few master since many think listening requires speech. Speech can be of comfort though when the words open eyes to things not seen. Eyes can be of comfort by shining forth the beauty of inner peace to those that hunger for it. Taste can be of comfort for food touches places that need filling. Touch can be of comfort for the warm caress of a loving hand soothes even the deepest hurt.

Use your senses in ways to match the needs for those that seek comfort. Use your senses to also see who indeed those that seek comfort are for they may not speak of it in ways direct.

Lammas 8

Changes brew for that is the way of Lammas. The season is a time of change based on the moments until now but also a time to prepare for the effect of those changes and even more changes to come. The energy of change is felt all around during Lammas. Temperatures have peaked and ease downward like features of coming attractions. Outside work wraps up and inside projects become the focus of plans. Family shifts in things done as all settle in for the season ahead.

For the ones that changed the most, this is very exciting. Change of self and change of place that shapes each moment as if each second is a building block to the future. That is exactly the case. The Change is good and right and is as dramatic as suspected. The time ahead will be so very different than the past for that has come and Lammas is the time to grind the grains of change for the sweetest treats from a brand new crop.

Black Rock City

Black Rock City moves to reality again. It calls to me from the desert as it moves to life as Mecca, Emerald City, Shangri-La, Heaven, and Home. It was in my dreams last night and in my thoughts on the walk this morning. A welcomed loved one saying all is well and more would come to the well this year. It let me know it was back again in this realm as it had been two years ago when I first crossed into it. The lessons embraced me this day and reminded me I am a Burner.

Burning Man was my vision quest. Clarity kissed me and penetrated my every pore at Black Rock. Money moved from godlike status. It was on the descent in my heart for years. The balance of barter and sharing on the Playa pierced the veil on my soul and freed me. Inclusion spread from inside of me to all around me on those nights of drumming spirituality and has spread each day since. That wildfire forged hope in this seeker as the taste of what can be sweetened my world. I was changing before my virgin trip into the Nevada desert. I was birthed there and emerged as Changeling.

Black Rock touched me again last year although life kept me in other places. It does so again this year and will each and every year regardless of where I am. Burning Man transcends time and space. It is more than a place or an event. It is proof, reassurance, and hope of Paradise Earth. It is the opportunity to live as the world can be, was, and will be again. It grows every year and spreads across the planet as Burners change inside and gift that change everywhere they go. More will learn of it this year and enough will live its truth once they do. The Pilgrimage is underway and the light of Black Rock City beckons once again. Travel well, Burners.

Lammas 7

Tribe makes us stronger. The us that you form with kindred and kind. The us that eluded you for so long until you found tribe and tribe found you. Us is a sweet word. It includes and empowers. It forges unity with each usage if indeed the us is the true us. The place of belonging. The place where you give fully yet feel you get more than you give. That does not mean you do get more than you give but that is the feeling. As you feel that, tribe feels, the us feels, they get far more from you than you get from them.

That is what tribe is. That is what the true us is. Win-win.

Lammas 6

Strength is as beautiful as weakness is ugly. Strength makes all stronger, healthier, happier, and freer. Strength of Self. Strength of tribe. Strength of herd.

The strong thrive but also recover quicker. Strength feeds progress and joy and then feeds mending when challenges slow even the strongest. Strength is not invincible. Strength is resilient.

Lammas 5

Plan for abundance for it shall be yours. Move forward in full trust for forces work for the SOURCE and you as surely as the tribe works for the SOURCE. See what can be with dream and fancy and what will come it pass will be what is meant to be. Plan for abundance, move forward in trust, and reality will be beyond even the synergy of expectations and hopes.

As tribe links and herd works, realms around draw strength from the actions of tribe and herd. Your energy soars forth to prepare others to receive the message and move to place and purpose. Places in tribe will be earned as will harnesses for the herd. You will not have to seek out but you will have to weed out. Ensure place is earned for the truest that apply. Test the beast before the beast gets to test the harness.

Lammas 4

The name of SOURCE and self is important. Not in what it is for that is a mere word. It is important in what it represents. Any that use the name of SOURCE represent the SOURCE and the SOURCE is of them as sure of they are of SOURCE. It is the same as you being of your name and your name of you.

More than what we know as title or word to get our attention. A way for others to know us and of us. Let the name be true to the self and SOURCE as sure as the self and the SOURCE are true to place and purpose.

Do not underestimate the impact of this for the work progresses via word of mouth as sure as if sung from the mountaintops. Let the word of mouth be true to place and purpose and let all of SOURCE honor self and SOURCE in name and actions.

How to Save The World (Summer School)

(Another segment of the book "How To Save The World", being written as I live it. If you want a copy of the work thus far, reach out and we will work the specifics.)

Summer school is in full swing and this ten year old man is learning from Masters. Masters of life and self-sufficiency. Masters of sharing and being. Learning has been a part of my life forever. Well, kinda. Actually, studying and regurgitating on demand were really my key skills. Studied what the nuns, military, church, teachers, professors, career advisors, financial experts, guidance counselors, and gurus said to study. Was good at complying with expectations and moving along the prescribed path into life.

Along the way, I amassed degrees, rank, status symbols, and lots of stuff. Aced how to plan and filled the right squares at the right time to move up the exact next step on the ladder of belonging and success. Became a man of the world. Learned a lot along the way. Tasted happiness and opened wider and wider to spirituality and the global community. Yeppers. I was the man with the plan and part of something wonderful and grand.

Then I met Tire Man and got a clue. A big clue that resulted in Summer School for me as I headed to fifty eight and felt like a ten year old. Bear in mind, Tire Man was just being himself and doing what was right for him and all that he is. I was doing likewise. Our paths crossed at the exactly the right time for him and for me to really be more since we met than we were before we met. It was more than timing. It was more than fate. It was our Higher Power at work since we were both ready.

I had to be ready to handle the lessons that come so rapidly in this Summer School. Had to have put in my first garden last year to taste that connection and want to expand it.

The first attempt at back yard gardening last year produced some tomatoes, dwarfed peppers, corn stalks without corn, two watermelons, and a bumper crop of messages. Messages about the connection with earth, seasons, self, and all things natural. Messages about learning from first attempts and improving with each cycle. Messages about trying things based on instinct and trusting failures are as important as the successes. Messages that this year’s garden will build upon last year’s just as next year’s will build upon this year’s. Messages that the plants loved me even in my cluelessness. Last year’s garden was the best failure I ever had. It prepared me to lust for the Oz that is Tire Man’s garden. It prepared me to crave how to do that. It humbled me enough to ask for help.

Tire Man did what he does best and always has done best. He shared. Willingly and eagerly. He gifts himself to any that asks. He gifts himself joyously to any that ask and actually learn in the asking. He nourished me and kept nourishing as I came to the well more and more to drink of what he knows. Summer School is in full bloom as my back yard garden emerges as the Phoenix from the ashes of last year’s first fire of passion to understand the lessons of nature that are ours for the asking.

This Summer School is different than any school I ever intended. The measure of success is within yourself. The pace depends on what you can handle and what you need to learn. Lessons come from everything around you. This is a school of immersion. School is everywhere this summer.

School is at the Ogden Nature Center as I learn from example from a Latter day Hippie botanist that lives the life I felt in the promise of the 60s and begin to understand as I approach 60. School is in session as Tire Man’s wife shares how she puts her flower bulbs in an onion sack at Summer’s end, places them under the stoop, replants them in a pot in February, and then is ready for next year’s garden with this years remains. School is in session when I go to Home Depot to buy what was needed to fill the Ninth Tire in my garden.

The Ninth Tire was a great place of learning. Tire Man and I, alright he did all the expert cutting and stuff but moving those tires from hither to yon was work too, placed nine tires that began my true garden. All part of the Summer School of 2010 for this student of life. Tires make for great learning when the tires are part of a garden. The garden in my back yard began with nine tires. Three groups of three with one more group of three due to join them some time in the future. Gotta love the number three. Trinity. Trifecta. Triple Crown. Tricycles. Ah, tricycles. We learn to ride. I learned about gardens and the price of……well, garden stuff. Stuff like dirt and compost and how much we pay for stuff.

Tire Man took his student by the hand, cut tires, turned them inside out, and showed how to level them for container gardening. Then he gathered up several thousand trash cans, it might have been 12 but sure felt like several thousand, and introduced me to the wonders of the Ogden Compost Facility. They knew him there, dumped a yard of compost pretty much in the cans, and wished us well as Tire Man and his “how the heck did I end up doing this” sidekick shoveled the cans full and loaded them in the back of his pick up truck.

Then Tire Man showed me the proper mixture of dirt to compost, explain 12-12-12 fertilizer, and wish me well as I proceeded to fill the tires with yummy dirt for the plants that would blossom forth. I settled in for the project and celebrated manual labor and the good part of becoming a dirty old man.

Turned out that a yard of compost, just over half a bag of fertilizer, and lots of shoveling filled eight of the nine tires. The ninth tire represented a choice. Wait until Tire Man helped out with another run to the Compost facility and such or just head to Home Depot and get the stuff in what is my old fashioned way. Buy it off the shelf.

I lasted one day. Headed to a branch of Summer School in the form of a big orange box. Filled the Ninth tire and learned the price of my old fashioned way. The ninth tire cost as much to fill as the first eight with the additional cost of non-recyclable plastic bags. It stunned me. That is how Summer School works. At least this one. This one stuns you with the reality of the cost of what you used to do and what you should and can do. When you are ready to be stunned that is.

Sometimes I stun slow though. Kinda like the lesson of trimming the tomato plants. That one took a few weeks for me to understand. A few weeks of wondering, a day of doing nothing, and finally I got it.

(If you want to get right to work and save your world, go to Tirecrafting.com and get Tire Man's DVD and Book. It can change your world.)

Lammas 3

A season of heat. The time to see the sun at zenith and a bit beyond. The time to celebrate harvest in ways that tribe and herd of old understood. They harvested of grain and seed. They linked in ceremony and welcomed the end of summer and beginning of winter and the cycles of the season that move year-to-year and moment-to-moment. The harvest of truth is of the SOURCE. The harvest of Tribe and herd that populates kindred and kind.

Lammas is of grain. It always has been. Lammas is of seed as well. Seed that is planted in fertile fields to further the harvest of years to come. Seed that is the grain of tomorrows. Lammas is more than the end of summer and the beginning of cooler times. Lammas is of grain and bread and the bread of life.

Lammas 2

The heat of the days lingers but cools not the progress of the tribe. The tribe handles the cycle of the seasons as natural flow of planetary things. Earthen things that are of import to the flesh but of little consequence to the spirit. The spirit is not of this realm. Spirits are of smells and sounds. Smells and sounds that guide the path on the journey to prior and later. Smells and sounds that light the way to other places too long dark to the spirit of the tribe.

Tribe has spirit as sure as each in tribe has spirit. Spirit of community. Spirit of kindred. Spirit of tribe as well as herd. Even the beasts are of the spirit. All things are of the spirit for the spirit is the energy of life at all levels. Tribe is alive with energy now and the spirit grows from infancy to prepare for the work ahead. Work of joy as connections grow. Work of joy as links forge chains that harness willing beasts for the sweet labor and journey of the SOURCE. Work of joy as kindred and family for this is the way of the SOURCE.

Lammas 1

A new season begins. Tribe and herd in different places now. There is the message. Places are more distinct and power more cleanly understood as well as exercised. It is not a mistake that things have shifted so much from Beltane to Ostara and again shifted during Litha. Who each was in tribe and what each beast of the herd was as Litha began has progressed to the reality of what is now.

Place is not just a concept or perception any longer. Place is a physical reality that touches all chakras for all of tribe and all of herd. Look upon the dramatic nature of what transpired during Litha and know that Lammas will be even more dramatic. Move to place and feel the changes in self and all. Move to place and hear as well as see the reaction of all. This is the new reality. Power of the SOURCE. The Tribe and herd are happier and more complete.

Lammas

Give us now our daily bread. Lammas is of harvest. Wheat and Corn figure predominately in this celebration. It has a dark aspect as well since the corn and wheat must be killed so it may nourish many in the month ahead. Harvesting is the end for some life so that others can sustain thanks to their sacrifice.

Lammas is August and typically begins on the first of that month. A month where the sun wanes from its powerful summer rays. A month where we are “tween…halfway between the Equinoxes. Although one of the least known Sabbats, Lammas is understood at an instinctive level by most. The sweetness of the harvest feeds us long beyond Lammas. We live in appreciation of the abundance that carries us through times of need.

Chocolate Covered Pretzels (For Kari---Happy Birthday)

Sometimes silly things make us think of certain people and smile. Like chocolate covered pretzels. As a chocolate lover with a vampireous sweet tooth, that mix of salty and heaven is a favorite. She makes awesome ones. Maybe it is because they are homemade. Could be a factor. In fact, I know it is. There are more reasons though.

Christmas. She makes them for the holidays. It is one of those things that shows up on special occasions and becomes a lust link to the calendar. I have to be strategic about how many of her covered delights become mine. Have to avoid hording, hiding, and binging. At least, have to hide the perception of such selfishness. Have to be creative at this time of great bounty and joy. I have to sneak. Turns out chocolate covered pretzels at 3 o’clock in the morning when the world is asleep is nirvana. An annual extravaganza of delight on dark December mornings. Mmmmmm.

It is not just availability that enhances the treats. It is the gift. Delivered with a smile from a person that is special. She gifts us with other things all year long. Smiles. Tolerant laughter at lame jokes. Quiet when others fill tender silence. Great patience. Kindness even when she is in deep hurt. She is a sweet and tender creature. She is also the mother of one of my grandchildren.

Of course that is a gift. Life says that is a linkage even when the world changes what linked us in the first place. While she is a great mother, she remains much more. A sweet and tender being that I welcome and treasure. One of those people who is kind at the core. Kindness is her way.

The chocolate coverage pretzels are good. Damn good. Maybe it is because they are made by the loving hands of a kind spirit and delivered with a smile and love. Maybe that is why they taste so good and make me smile when I eat them or even think of them. I just know I am smiling now just thinking of the person who made them….and its only August. That is such a sweet treat. Plus, its is good for the soul.

Happy Birthday, Kari

You are a treasured part of this family.

Love, Gil