tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35250386397600181582024-02-18T21:25:00.610-06:00PinkInklingzPinkInklingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07181372531138358931noreply@blogger.comBlogger136125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525038639760018158.post-41548212488550669582018-10-28T14:06:00.000-05:002018-10-28T14:06:00.700-05:00The Oscillators <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid_YkqPbe88zNlUsXuSLZMtvHWz-MFGiBsgh4V1xyLoxeofIlmBekHfOmEAl0ULLYPCKLyLZuICdXXqpOZQ7vaS_5vWwyEE4hT-kIiZfYXllhb6isgZ6atJPazPAuRI8RLQw1pdrxojZHJ/s1600/IMG_20180818_124101_134.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid_YkqPbe88zNlUsXuSLZMtvHWz-MFGiBsgh4V1xyLoxeofIlmBekHfOmEAl0ULLYPCKLyLZuICdXXqpOZQ7vaS_5vWwyEE4hT-kIiZfYXllhb6isgZ6atJPazPAuRI8RLQw1pdrxojZHJ/s320/IMG_20180818_124101_134.jpg" width="320" height="320" data-original-width="1600" data-original-height="1600" /></a></div>
The Oscillators will be at the Coffee House at Chesnut and Pine in Burlington, Friday Nov 2, 2018. The caffeinated folk pop sounds will be celebrating percussionist Max Melendez birthday!PinkInklingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07181372531138358931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525038639760018158.post-77654809724099777192012-11-14T15:50:00.002-06:002012-11-14T15:50:26.387-06:00God's Commas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdllKa2p3vneDKqTDfrZdAzAql9_Qg2gIhyphenhyphenJE4thJYOywcv1XXuNCq-bWDfvymdVIeSVsFYgzwqomaHoO6HUDVHlqDM8otGxNbQw9SuPYzrsFdAXoCJG1RwZoTbfg0QnS1Yq2GXbu5ufaQ/s1600/for+commas..jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="281" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdllKa2p3vneDKqTDfrZdAzAql9_Qg2gIhyphenhyphenJE4thJYOywcv1XXuNCq-bWDfvymdVIeSVsFYgzwqomaHoO6HUDVHlqDM8otGxNbQw9SuPYzrsFdAXoCJG1RwZoTbfg0QnS1Yq2GXbu5ufaQ/s320/for+commas..jpg" /></a></div>
It appears that God uses lots of commas. It appears that miracles can be small, but they are still miracles.
Thank God for small miracles.
Pinkinklingz appears to be free of warnings and blocks. I am going to cry BIG happy tears.
May YOU have a small miracle today as well. My Mom taught me to share.
Süsy¸.•*¨`*.¸.•♥ PinkInklingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07181372531138358931noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525038639760018158.post-5932715228992625682012-11-08T12:24:00.000-06:002012-11-08T12:24:32.084-06:00Whoa!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhh-1Hz0rmDysKsGwMTEtK_msnaE6MPwW-zNSmWjWrga3nkN66r3ZqKu53Rh6-fhLd7Hoo1QU1ZmG2Q57BNaoIrCh32E5xGDDgBwbqpF67gOhyphenhyphenykcug9AdCMB7A1nuT0P0q76a0HSlq6q4/s1600/IMG_9711.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhh-1Hz0rmDysKsGwMTEtK_msnaE6MPwW-zNSmWjWrga3nkN66r3ZqKu53Rh6-fhLd7Hoo1QU1ZmG2Q57BNaoIrCh32E5xGDDgBwbqpF67gOhyphenhyphenykcug9AdCMB7A1nuT0P0q76a0HSlq6q4/s320/IMG_9711.JPG" /></a></div>
Things have REALLY piled up. It's been quite a while. And when I wasn't looking some very nasty hacker snuck into my blog. I am still not sure of the details. I just know that suddenly there were warnings that you might get viruses and all manner of of misfortunes may befall you.
If you can read this without your security software screaming at you, maybe everything is fixed.
I apologize for any disturbances you may encounter. Quite frankly, I've had enough of heart attacks myself these past months.
Check back...hopefully all will be resolved soon, and I'll explain the hiatus.
PinkInklingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07181372531138358931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525038639760018158.post-60315628988870493842012-11-08T11:18:00.002-06:002012-11-08T11:18:18.074-06:00google699755d041a980ec.htmlPinkInklingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07181372531138358931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525038639760018158.post-27663733542444001082012-11-08T11:09:00.000-06:002012-11-08T11:09:13.040-06:00google699755d041a980ec.htmlPinkInklingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07181372531138358931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525038639760018158.post-57323071624114884822012-03-08T02:01:00.000-06:002012-03-08T02:01:40.814-06:00The Charms<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLc5WQ0tkLRGyqnWWkF0euuvmHUJ4dWu-CzBoX4TxjkY_zPlCaLVg087-5G5e-fL9Vz4F5mUnejysgiOly-LHEjd3_XZctqIg9DEDVwrjbB4uUYWUiaEXbiZM61-ueJMG4JGuawlQd8FO-/s1600/CelebrateLife.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLc5WQ0tkLRGyqnWWkF0euuvmHUJ4dWu-CzBoX4TxjkY_zPlCaLVg087-5G5e-fL9Vz4F5mUnejysgiOly-LHEjd3_XZctqIg9DEDVwrjbB4uUYWUiaEXbiZM61-ueJMG4JGuawlQd8FO-/s400/CelebrateLife.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">When my </span><span style="line-height: 18px;">daughter</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> Shannon began chemotherapy, she started a bracelet of beads to commemorate each treatment in her journey. These are not the simple token dangles I remember as ‘charms’. These are objects d art and each bauble is rich in meaning. She had 12 treatments, and selected the right beads carefully. After one of the sessions, she showed me the bracelet’s work in progress. I admit to being charmed myself. It was a thing of beauty, but this is </span><b style="line-height: 115%;"><i><u>not</u></i></b><span style="line-height: 115%;"> a picture of it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">At Christmas time, Shannon presented me with my own ‘starter’ bracelet. She included a sparkly pink gem that would brighten even the gloomiest of days. There’s also a heart with the word “MOM” engraved on it. I could not believe my eyes when the dazzle of iridescence got my attention. That was one of her original beads. You could say they all actually had the word ‘MOM’ engraved on them. Being the Mom, I can read words that others might not see.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It has taken, ironically, nine months to travel from the day she was diagnosed, to being declared in remission, to having the portal for chemotherapy removed at last. Being pregnant with her for nine months was much easier. I have been through birth with her, and I have been thru re-birth with her. Both of these life events, and the thoughts and feelings that weave their way throughout, cannot be captured simply with words. Every heart and soul has a depth that has no vocabulary. All people smile in the same language, but there is no dictionary anywhere with a word for that.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And so we sometimes have to use symbols to communicate a meaning to others. My bracelet is one such symbol. Each charm will signify a time I spent with my daughter during this journey. The bracelet in the photo is mine. It celebrates life.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>PinkInklingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07181372531138358931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525038639760018158.post-16095788661022731902011-12-26T21:51:00.001-06:002011-12-26T21:51:54.413-06:00Tidings of Great Joy<div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/moonflowerstudio/6579188641/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7167/6579188641_409d3814ec_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/moonflowerstudio/6579188641/">Tidings of Great Joy</a><br />Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/moonflowerstudio/">Moonflower Studio</a></span></div>‘Tis the season for “tidings of great joy…” and we have already received a goodly number of greetings. I have marveled at this.<br />Last year, the opportunity to send out Christmas cards flashed by faster than I could grasp. I vowed not to even open the ones we received until I got our own sent out. I never did, and I imagined many may have wondered if I’d given up on this quaint tradition.<br />I kept the unopened envelopes in view for all of 2011. I wanted to remind myself to never let this happen again. To quote Scrooge, “The spirits shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach.”<br />Time has almost gotten the better of me anyway this season. Still, as fast as the days have scurried by, the envelopes have come again. How wonderful it is to be remembered despite my 2010 tardiness. How delightful it is that this tradition continues, and that you have included us in yours.<br />You may think I am taking sentiment overboard, but I assure you little things DO count. That new Hallmark slogan is true, ‘Life IS a special occasion.’<br />This past year my daughter, Shannon Joy, was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. Anyone whose life has been touched by cancer knows what a struggle it is. Being Shannon’s “Chemo-Buddy”, I‘ve witnessed her battle first hand. It has taught me a lot. I’ve been inspired by her courage and strength.<br />In early December her doctor gave us the results of her last PET scan. His words were “complete response to treatment” meaning there were no cancer cells to be found. She still has to finish her prescribed chemo treatment, but no extra rounds or radiation will be necessary.<br />Which brings us back to “‘tis the season” and “tidings of great JOY” I’d also have to add “It’s a wonderful life” and not one of these phrases is a cliché.<br />This Christmas, we wish every one of you all the blessings and joy you can hold.<br clear="all" />PinkInklingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07181372531138358931noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525038639760018158.post-7377485763012998822011-12-03T21:00:00.002-06:002011-12-03T22:59:58.638-06:00Bella Buon Natale<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi_y9Px-UrK4VXfbkUzbZ0RlIG0_Mh5-h_Qw4nVoFaFRXvdqgf3OzbVGpKCyvXviktEZFrI5y77UBI32kiP3V_JpPkmzDEdJ5hreD62RKQHGSLjIPeZoha0qaCGA3q_lHPq-WFa1mEiiO-/" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi_y9Px-UrK4VXfbkUzbZ0RlIG0_Mh5-h_Qw4nVoFaFRXvdqgf3OzbVGpKCyvXviktEZFrI5y77UBI32kiP3V_JpPkmzDEdJ5hreD62RKQHGSLjIPeZoha0qaCGA3q_lHPq-WFa1mEiiO-/" width="320" /></a>There was a knock at the door around sunset. That made the young lady standing there harder to see. I opened the storm door and a small voice said "Merry Christmas!" brightly. She was holding a large tray of assorted Christmas cookies and candy canes, all carefully covered with plastic wrap. I was unsure of what I should do, so I replied "Merry Christmas!"<br />
She lifted the festive tray higher and repeated her greeting. In stunned confusion and curiosity I muttered "Are you bringing me cookies?" She lifted the tray a bit higher. "Yes! Merry Christmas!" I took the tray from her outstretched arms. I did not recognize the young lady but her confectionery gift seemed to be wrapped in sincerity as well as plastic. "Why?!" I asked. "Because my Mom said so...Merry Christmas!", she replied.<br />
My guess was that this was a first for both of us. Her first delivery to a stranger, my first from<i> </i>a stranger. We were both unsure offer our roles. So I opted for impromptu FUN.<br />
"Are you an ELF?" She giggled at the concept. "NoO0!"<br />
"Then who ARE you?!" <br />
"I am Bella ...from across the street. "<br />
She waved her arm in a flourish as if the distance WAS to the North Pole.<br />
I told Bella that I thought her name was beautiful. I told Bella I thought her name MEANT 'beautiful' in Italian. (She beamed at the recognition) I also told Bella that she had really made my day. I thanked Bella profusely ~ and then realized we still hadn't been introduced. I put out my hand and said, "Merry Christmas Bella, my name is Süsy."<br />
She extended her arm and offered a warm handshake.<br />
"Merry Christmas Süsy, I am Bella."<br />
Yes you are Bella, yes you are.<br />
<br />
</div>PinkInklingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07181372531138358931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525038639760018158.post-50779299044141746592011-10-31T12:33:00.001-05:002011-10-31T12:33:49.210-05:00Happy Candy Corn Birthday<div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/moonflowerstudio/6298972177/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6112/6298972177_b276413b0f_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/moonflowerstudio/6298972177/">Happy Candy Corn Birthday</a><br />Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/moonflowerstudio/">Moonflower Studio</a></span></div>It was Halloween. It used to be a rather quaint little autumn festivity for children. It involved sweets.<br />But on that Halloween, the ‘tricky’ part was the labor, and the treat was one of the best days of my life.<br />On that Halloween, I had my first baby. I had a miracle happen. I made a miracle happen. A tiny little person with his very own heart and soul, mind and body arrived in this world. My Mom called him my “lil’ Punkin” I gave him a nickname as unique and special as he was. There was a chamber of my heart I hadn’t even known was there, and now it was filled.<br />In the years that have passed, he has gotten the cards, and the presents and the cake. You’d think everything special about that day was for him.<br />But I had a very blessed event that I got to hold close to my heart. I got a memory to cherish forever, and I am so glad he arrived to share it.<br />Happy Birthday Christopher! : D<br clear="all" />PinkInklingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07181372531138358931noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525038639760018158.post-69529006502524342372011-09-11T18:42:00.001-05:002011-09-11T18:42:19.640-05:00Fan Of USA<div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/moonflowerstudio/6137902313/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6201/6137902313_d34035925e_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/moonflowerstudio/6137902313/">Fan Of USA</a><br />Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/moonflowerstudio/">Moonflower Studio</a></span></div>Normal Day, <br /><br />Let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, savor you, bless you, before you depart.<br /><br />Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it will not always be so.<br /><br />One day I will dig my fingers into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky, and want more than all the world: your return. <br />-Mary Jean Iron<br /><br />Remembering 9/11 and honoring the 'nobility of everyday life'<br clear="all" />PinkInklingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07181372531138358931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525038639760018158.post-20679502077066817472011-09-02T01:05:00.001-05:002011-09-02T01:05:13.512-05:00...and how are WE doing today?<div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/moonflowerstudio/6104913477/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6183/6104913477_efb24a0eb3_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/moonflowerstudio/6104913477/">...and how are WE doing today?</a><br />Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/moonflowerstudio/">Moonflower Studio</a></span></div>Blood Donor Barbie wants to assure everyone that HOPE is a really good word. She is also expressing <i>(OUR)</i> gratitude for the warm thoughts and prayers sent our way. ♥<br />I've learned that September is "Hodgkin's Lymphoma Awareness Month" and the ribbon symbol color is purple. <i>(I hear that 'ding-ding' of the shopping bell...there is so little purple in my closet)</i><br /><br />I've also learned that Hodgkin's patients cannot be blood donors for at least 10 years. This has been deeply disappointing news for my daughter; she had already made the 2 Gallon Club. <br />It suddenly occured to her that she had an answer to so many people who wanted to <i>"do"</i> something for her. She made the request on her CaringBridge post, and I decided to suggest it here as well. I've never done it before. Guess I won't learn any younger, lol. If you'd like to learn more too <a href="http://www.redcrossblood.org/donating-blood/first-time-donors" rel="nofollow"> visit here.</a><br /><br />I wish I had more time for flickr posts and visits. This was supposed to be for Toys in the Frame Thursday, but I think I missed it. Maybe I'll try for Happy Purple Tuesday....*(sigh)*<br />I hope I can pop back tonight for some visiting. If I miss you, have a great holiday weekend!<br clear="all" />PinkInklingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07181372531138358931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525038639760018158.post-66002050366352589442011-08-12T15:49:00.001-05:002011-08-12T15:49:01.274-05:00That 1st step....<div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/moonflowerstudio/6036518270/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6148/6036518270_3dc1641d64_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/moonflowerstudio/6036518270/">That 1st step....</a><br />Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/moonflowerstudio/">Moonflower Studio</a></span></div>When someone you love begins chemo your <i>own</i> experience is surreal. Especially if that someone is your child- even your fully grown child. <br /><br />I found a rather bizarre parallel. It’s like watching them go bungee jumping. You stand there, not wanting to project your fears onto them. Is it lame to wish her good luck? Your mind races close to the speed of light; it must be that fast cuz everything else seems to be in slow motion. You know once she steps off that platform, there is no turning back. <br /><br />…and there she goes. The list of ‘what if?’ questions is so long you never get to ‘why?’ And was it your imagination, or did one of Harry Potter’s enemy dementors just slip in and out of sight? How many times is this thing gonna go UP…or DOWN?<br /><br />When she is back on solid ground do you grab her in a hug-or let her catch her breath? You try acting nonchalant, looking for clues on how to behave. You admire her courage, but keep it to yourself. You ask, “So, how was it?”<br /><br />Her face is pale, but her eyes are bright. She says, “I’m gonna do this AGAIN.”<br /><br />She was, and always will be my bouncy baby girl.<br clear="all" />PinkInklingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07181372531138358931noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525038639760018158.post-8864215074258760132011-07-30T15:15:00.003-05:002011-07-30T15:31:25.680-05:00Family Tag<div style="float: right; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/moonflowerstudio/5990956591/" title="photo sharing"><img alt="" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6001/5990956591_5337d5b93e_m.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/moonflowerstudio/5990956591/">Family Tag</a><br />
Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/moonflowerstudio/">Moonflower Studio</a></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">These are my girls. The smaller one on the left is my granddaughter, Sarah. The fabulous shutterbug on the right is my daughter, Shannon.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Theirs is a work-in-progress…’tagging’ the wall of Shannon’s scrapbooking room. The missing word to be filled in is “Buttercup”. Shannon very frequently greets friends with “What’s up, Buttercup?”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I chose this “work-in-progress” shot to represent my family’s current state.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Some flickr friends already know that this dynamic duo is facing some struggles. Sarah had surgery Thursday to have two extra bones removed. It’s a syndrome that usually affects one foot. Sarah’s doctor told her she was special to have <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">two</i> feet involved. She will spend the remainder of summer and fall confined to a wheel chair or walker. Not easy for an athletic cheerleader. But as she is bouncy-by-default, I expect she will display her determination vibrantly as the paint on this wall.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This, I believe, will be a source of inspiration for her Mom, who is becoming much less bouncy. After Sarah’s surgery was already scheduled, Shannon was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, a cancer of the lymph nodes. Weeks of testing have determined the severity of the disease and course of treatment. The prognosis is good and full of hope. Chemo was postponed due to Sarah’s surgery; preparing for it was not. Whatever joys of summer left to be had were crammed into the remaining hours.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It’s why I have been MIA on flickr. It’s why I expect to continue more extended absences. I will be Shannon’s chemo buddy. She’s one of my girls.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Cancer is just another wall we ran into. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Hard</b>. Now that we’ve dusted ourselves off a bit, I see that wall as another one to tag. With the word to be filled in: <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><u>HOPE.</u></i></b><u><o:p></o:p></u></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><u><br />
</u></i></b></div><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">I want to thank the friends who have known about this for their support, words of encouragement and their prayers. I’ll be back when I can; until then I’m busy playing Family Tag. </span><span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS', sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">♥</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">With my girls</span><span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS', sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">♥</span>PinkInklingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07181372531138358931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525038639760018158.post-11867474143178713792011-05-30T14:00:00.001-05:002011-05-30T14:00:19.198-05:00Memorial Day<div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/moonflowerstudio/5775215120/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3450/5775215120_1e0d7dd1a2_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/moonflowerstudio/5775215120/">Memorial Day</a><br />Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/moonflowerstudio/">Moonflower Studio</a></span></div>“Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy.”<br />Eskimo Proverb<br /><br />Remembering with reverence those we have lost, remembering with respect all who have served or are serving. Remembering with gratitude the service of all, and the families who support them.<br />Thank you.<br clear="all" />PinkInklingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07181372531138358931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525038639760018158.post-21425427139014474522011-02-04T15:09:00.007-06:002011-02-04T18:05:37.628-06:00Green Bay 101<div style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 10px; MARGIN-LEFT: 10px"><a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/moonflowerstudio/5416312043/"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 2px solid" alt="" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5139/5416312043_f60dc47d58_m.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px;font-size:0;" ><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/moonflowerstudio/5416312043/">Bicycles 4 D-Fence</a><br />Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/moonflowerstudio/">Moonflower Studio ❄</a></span></div><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;">As a lifelong Wisconsin resident, and avowed Cheesehead, I offer this perspective.<br /><br />This Sunday, Green Bay is in the Superbowl.<br /><br />I wrote the sentence that way on purpose; I did not omit the words ‘Packers’ or ‘playing’. I am referring to the town of Green Bay and its citizens. (<em>I could include the people in the towns that surround Green Bay. But then I would also likely have to include the rest of Wisconsin, other states, territories or countries where Packer fans live</em>.) The Packers are the <strong><em>only</em></strong> <strong>publically owned</strong> company in American professional sports. That means the town owns the team. This is not likely to change, as the season ticket holders bequeath the heritage in their wills. It is not one person in a $5000 suit. It is a whole lot of people wearing plaid flannel or blaze orange under the green-and-gold jerseys and sweatshirts. It means that the history, economy, traditions and culture of the town of Green Bay are tied to the team.</span></p><p><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;">I lived in the vicinity of Green Bay for a number of years. It was some time ago, and when I first arrived I did not have a ‘football clue’. I also didn’t think it was something I needed. But as the saying goes “When in Rome…” If one is going to interact with other humans in Green Bay, you will need to speak the language. If you want to ‘belong’ in the community, you will have to participate in the culture. I should point out that you don’t ‘have to’ join the ‘pack’. But the spirit in the town is as warm and enthusiastic as it is infectious. I became familiar with the fundamentals of football. Folks were quite willing to share in their vast knowledge, without making me feel foolish for not knowing. 'Trash Talking' is not taught, nor is it encouraged. I enjoyed being part of the positive atmosphere. I enjoyed sharing in the pride. I remember the town and its people fondly. </span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;">I am still familiar with the fundamentals of football. But the spirit of the town and its people are more memorable. I will always be a fan of the town’s positive energy. I have learned about dedication to values. I have learned about the importance of preserving a legacy. I have learned that teamwork is a very powerful tool, and you can still have fun using it.<br />I wish the town of Green Bay and its people all the best this Sunday. If you would like to join me, you are not obligated to wear a large wedge of yellow foam on your head (although, they really are quite warm). There is no secret handshake. Simply wear a smile and repeat the phrase “GO PACK!”<br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">...........•*¨`*•. ☆ .•*¨`*•..............<br />####### S U P E R B O W L #######!!!<br />✿•*¨`*•. (¯`v´¯) (¯`v´¯) .•*¨`*•✿<br />. . . ✿•*¨`*•.¸(¯`v´¯)¸.•´*¨`*•✿ . . .<br />...…………….....♥ PACKERS´♥…….………<br /><br /></span></span><span style="color:#ff6666;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#006600;"><em>(Thanks to Dina of Green Bay WI for the PACKER ASCII!)<br /></em><br /></span>I have included links below that can provide </span></span></span></p><p><span style="color:#ff6666;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong><span style="color:#006600;">History</span>:</strong> <span style="color:#009900;">Wikipedia</span>: </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Green_Bay_Packers"><span style="font-size:130%;">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Green_Bay_Packers</span></a><span style="font-size:130%;">,<br /><strong><span style="color:#006600;">Insight</span>:</strong> <span style="color:#009900;"><strong>Why Green Bay Packers fans are the best fans in the NFL</strong></span>: </span><a href="http://sports.yahoo.com/nfl/news?slug=ycn-7729348"><span style="font-size:130%;">http://sports.yahoo.com/nfl/news?slug=ycn-7729348</span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span></span></span><span style="color:#ff6666;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;">(Jan 31, 2011)</span></span></p><p><span style="color:#ff6666;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong><span style="color:#006600;">The Bicycle Tradition</span>:</strong> </span></span></span><a href="http://www.packerstrainingcamp.com/player_bike_rides/"><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;">http://www.packerstrainingcamp.com/player_bike_rides/</span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><span style="color:#ff6666;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><strong><span style="color:#006600;">Related info</span>:</strong> <span style="color:#009900;">Green Bay Packers Season Tickets Waiting List Update</span>: </span></span></span><a href="http://www.seasonticketwaitinglist.com/2010/07/green-bay-packers-season-tickets.html"><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;">http://www.seasonticketwaitinglist.com/2010/07/green-bay-packers-season-tickets.html</span></a><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"> (July, 2010),<br /><span style="color:#009900;">and a bit of <strong><span style="color:#006600;">Philosophy</span></strong>: The Cheesehead Phenomenon</span>: </span><a href="http://redzonemarketing.com/blog/business/the-cheesehead-phenomenon/"><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;">http://redzonemarketing.com/blog/business/the-cheesehead-phenomenon/</span></a><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;"><span style="font-size:130%;"> (Dec 12, 2009)<br clear="all"></span></p></span>PinkInklingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07181372531138358931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525038639760018158.post-10597229895080374642010-12-19T01:14:00.003-06:002010-12-19T01:21:14.904-06:00The Reindeer<span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;">From 'Pre-blogging Era' archive 'inklingz': <strong>A Reflection While Taking Down Christmas 2000</strong> </span><div style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 10px; MARGIN-LEFT: 10px"><a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/moonflowerstudio/5273412020/"><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 2px solid" alt="" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5001/5273412020_cfc02246b1_m.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;"><br /></span><span style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px;font-size:0;" ><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/moonflowerstudio/5273412020/"><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;">The Reindeer</span></a><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;"><br />Originally uploaded by </span><a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/moonflowerstudio/"><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;">Moonflower Studio ❄</span></a></span></div><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;">Since the first year I saw Boston Store’s “forest” of Christmas trees, I’ve made an annual stop in their “Trim-A-Tree” section. That first year, there was a tree decorated with animals of all sorts...perfect additions to my Peaceable Kingdom themed tree. I don’t recall if I bought any myself-probably not. I did tell Mom about it. That same year my Christmas gift from her was a large assortment of the animals. Before the 12 Days of Christmas ended, I received more animals. Mom said they were a ‘Feast of the 3 Kings’ gift.<br />And so I’ve gone back to Boston Store almost every year, hoping to find more. Mom continued to find animals there, as well as other places. She’d present them to me on occasions or for no reason at all.<br />Funny...we never went to Boston Store together...<br />The “Trim-A-Tree” department has changed over the years, There’s no “forest” anymore (sigh) but they still have an unusual collection; unique things you’re not likely to find elsewhere.<br />I remember stopping there in 2000, Mom’s last year. The array of ornaments was just as enchanting as ever. But even with the bustling crowd of shoppers, there was a bittersweet emptiness. I knew one of Boston Store’s best customers would not be with them this year, or any year to come.<br />I continued to survey the glittering goodies, hoping to ease the sadness I felt. I was drawn to an assortment of snowmen, and to my delight, I found an ornament for my own daughter’s snowman collection. It was a miniature “snow couple” roasting a marshmallow over a candle. The little ‘snow lady’ appeared to be blowing on the candle’s flame, as if to toast their holiday morsel faster. Perfect...and it was on sale! A new mother /daughter tradition was born.<br />I made one more wistful inspection in hopes of finding a unique animal. There, back in a corner was a reindeer. He (she?) was a contemporary and graceful creature, with a sleek white body. Its antlers were sparkly green tinsel. Its legs were whimsical red and white striped wires with a curly twist where its ‘knees’ would be. A wreath of metallic holly encircled its neck.<br />The sleek white body reminded me of an angel’s grace. The green tinsel antlers appealed to my sense of tradition. I was reminded of the passion Mom and I shared for all things red & white striped. Those fanciful legs were yet another twist we’d have enjoyed.<br />This surely would’ve been the animal Mom would’ve found for me this year. Perfect...and it was on sale!<br />I came away from the “Trim-A-Tree” at Boston Store with a heart less heavy, and with treasures to keep and to share.<br />I have a new tradition to carry on. I think Mom would be proud.<br clear="all"></span>PinkInklingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07181372531138358931noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525038639760018158.post-55324058743376924822010-11-07T19:24:00.002-06:002010-11-07T19:29:23.757-06:00UGHS Jazz Band Concert- Chicago 25 or 6 to 4 ~or Why We Need to Support the Arts in our Schools<object style="BACKGROUND-IMAGE: url(http://i1.ytimg.com/vi/l6We5xpSDn8/hqdefault.jpg)" height="285" width="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/l6We5xpSDn8?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/l6We5xpSDn8?fs=1&hl=en_US" width="340" height="285" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object>PinkInklingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07181372531138358931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525038639760018158.post-60860054927130421082010-10-29T17:30:00.002-05:002010-10-29T17:34:21.480-05:00The Spell Checker Remembered<div style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 10px; MARGIN-LEFT: 10px"><a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/moonflowerstudio/5127213462/"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 2px solid" alt="" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4067/5127213462_a33311e9b0_m.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px;font-size:0;" ><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/moonflowerstudio/5127213462/">The Spell Checker</a><br />Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/moonflowerstudio/">Moonflower Studio</a></span></div><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Before there were blogs, there were journals. Ten years ago...<br /><br /><em>October 28,2000 ...</em></span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;">It is the fourth month of the odyssey, to the day. I am planning a journey to Mayville. I will photograph and video tape the ‘show’ hanging at Artistry. It will not take long, and afterwards, I can go and visit my Aunt Siggy and Uncle Ed. While I have been gathering the things I will need for the trip, I remember once again to look for the John Powell transcripts of “Free To Be Me”. I am not only fortunate enough to find it with “Godspeed”, but also to find the passage in it that has been trying to make its way into my consciousness.<br />“Sometimes I think that God is like an electrical outlet. God is there, and he’s got all sorts of power waiting there. But you have to get plugged in. And that plug is faith”<br />I am reassured, to have found it again, and that it carries the same meaning as I remembered.<br />I telephone Aunt Siggy to tell her of my plans, and ask if a visit would be okay. Her voice...warm and friendly in recognition, enthused at the prospect of a visit, is also surprisingly reminiscent of Mom’s. I attribute the coincidence to biology, but it is a pleasant surprise, nonetheless.<br />My photos taken, I arrive at their home. I am received with even more warmth and enthusiasm. I had been so worried about them-they looked so very frail at the funeral. Here they are vibrant, with tales of their latest excursion, a riverboat gambling trip. These people are not only strong in spirit, but despite their aging, are equally strong in mind and body. They have their difficulties, but are in no way held back by them. We talk of Mom, and my grandparents; I learn new things. It is almost predetermined that we will talk of faith, which they practice religiously. I bring up lost things and prayers to St. Anthony. Aunt Siggy replies, “Oh, you mean Tony?!” We share the delight of having the same friend. The lilt in her voice, its tone and timber, strikes me again. Again I notice similarities in her voice to Mom’s. It is there in her face, expressions and mannerisms. She is, at once, reassuring me of her own unique vitality, and at the same time, offering me a comforting notion that Mom continues in the same way. Perhaps I was trying to absorb her faith by osmosis. Perhaps Tony was with us, and knew what I was really looking for.<br />We hugged when I left, and she said I made her feel good; I reminded her so much of her daughter, ‘Peach’. I said she reminded me of Mom.<br />As I began the long drive home, the autumn sun was beginning to settle low in the sky. The fields and farmlands around me provided a lovely pastoral landscape. I left the radio off to enjoy the serenity, and then, there in the silence, was Mom’s laugh. In my mind’s eye was her smile, and the soundtrack to it was her giggle. Short, sweet and swiftly disappearing, it left its buoyant mark on my soul. I could’ve said it was really her, but I was not a true believer yet.<br />Later that evening, after Mike had already gone to bed, I discovered a movie had previously begun. I had wanted to see “Close Encounters of the 3rd Kind” for a long time. I had not missed very much at all, and I settled right in to enjoy it. There were blanks in my memory of the movie; at last I’d be able to satisfy my curiosity. As the tale unfolded, its characters tormented by visions and experiences that they did not understand, I began to see the parallels. These people were on an odyssey of their own. These people had questions, these people sought answers. These people were much misunderstood by those around them, and yet they continued on in their quest. These people were dazzled by an encounter with something not of this world...<br />When the ‘special effects’ alien, surrounded by radiant light, made gestures of peace and goodwill, a thought struck me: “Even if there is life on other planets, I’ll bet we have the same God...”<br />It was only moments later, movie over and again surrounded by quiet, that the watershed began. The events of the day began to tumble through my head like magic dominoes. All the positive energy built to one powerful surge, and gave me the courage to begin phrasing that question once again to God. Before I could finish the words in my head, I already had my answer.... “But you have to get plugged in. And that plug is faith” I made a quantum leap from the faith I’d already built, to a greater one, and I <em>believed.<br /></em><strong>And she was there.</strong> It was not a dream, it was not a memory, and it was not the comforting appearance of an imaginary friend. This was not a product of my mind. It was an experience of my senses, of my heart, of my soul.<br /><em>“Mom?!”<br /></em><strong>And she was there.</strong> I felt her with me, and I sobbed in awe and relief. I was there, her baby, toddler, teenager and mother of her grandchildren...and she was there, my Mom. I let every emotion run its course.<br />When I let go of the experience and brought my thoughts back to this world, I was changed. Grief was no longer a bottomless hollow inside. She was only a heartbeat away, through the most ethereal of clouds. The healing phase of grief began. and continues.<br />I have no proof. In fact, I told no one for some time. It was only days later when self-doubt crept in, and I feared I would never feel such a wondrous occurrence again. And then I heard her say,<br /><em>“You found me...did you think I’d let you go?”<br clear="all"></p></em></span>PinkInklingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07181372531138358931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525038639760018158.post-86926743896662616742010-10-09T11:26:00.001-05:002010-10-09T11:29:01.713-05:00Happy Birthday John Lennon<object style="BACKGROUND-IMAGE: url(http://i1.ytimg.com/vi/0g4LXHvB_e4/hqdefault.jpg)" height="285" width="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0g4LXHvB_e4?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0g4LXHvB_e4?fs=1&hl=en_US" width="340" height="285" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object>PinkInklingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07181372531138358931noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525038639760018158.post-6398892233198321682010-09-26T18:15:00.003-05:002010-09-26T18:24:17.387-05:00Worth 1000 Words<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRJ1Zg1ub2ogynVyF8-UfkG9bEcUUSvWEcBF9P9Y7s0dnJQohBkR3wEE2Bo1tM1poKXPdiE_fed3Y9RjTzUQTGZz5Ghy6FRXntF5X7w6K6FY-KoRP1Gl9XfQk4huiGHhZUnE2noBH9d4lD/s1600/JamShades3(c).jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521365478815872594" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 295px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRJ1Zg1ub2ogynVyF8-UfkG9bEcUUSvWEcBF9P9Y7s0dnJQohBkR3wEE2Bo1tM1poKXPdiE_fed3Y9RjTzUQTGZz5Ghy6FRXntF5X7w6K6FY-KoRP1Gl9XfQk4huiGHhZUnE2noBH9d4lD/s320/JamShades3(c).jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;">They say a picture is worth 1000 words.<br />That, dear followers, is precisely why there have been so very few words here, whilst I have become very active on flickr.<br />I wasn’t really aware of what flickr had to offer, other than an online place to show off or share one’s photographs.<br />For me photography was a means to an end. I took pictures of things I was going to paint. I took pictures of paintings “in-progress” and of the final result. And, of course, there were the ‘Kodak moments’ with family and friends. I didn’t imagine, really, there’d be much interest in those.<br />Photography was (for me) a sort of pipe dream. If you were really going to pursue it, you had to have a real fancy camera. It was the camera that took great pictures, not the photographer. And before the digital age, it also meant needing your own ‘dark room’. I did not have the resources for such a lofty ambition.<br />Besides that obvious rationale, it was my daughter who was ‘the photographer’. Her pictures were beyond great. They were fabulous. It was no surprise when she bought a real SLR camera. Her favorite pastime was a serious hobby. It was always my opinion that she should go ‘pro’.<br />That’s really why I went to flickr. I saw really cool stuff there. Like her stuff. I wanted her to go there and show off her stuff. After all, she had won ribbons at the fair for her stuff. Why wait for the fair every year? You could be on flickr every day!<br />It’s not that she’s a busy soccer mom. She’s a great mom, whose kids are into everything but soccer. Trying to keep up with her and her family is not unlike herding cats. She hardly had time for photography, much less some online extension of it.<br />Somewhere in the process of researching all this for her, I suddenly discovered some other things about myself. Some of my own pictures were as good as my daughter’s. I offer as an example this bright yellow beach bag and accessories, with the palm tree reflected in the glasses. It went on to become my flickr ‘badge’. Ergo, it is not necessarily essential to have a schnazzy camera to take good pictures. And, one no longer needs a darkroom to develop digital photos. And flickr is not just a photo sharing place. It is, in its own right, as much a social networking place as facebook, or twitter.<br />Flickr has “groups”. Groups can have almost every imaginable parameter. There are groups for sunsets and sunrises, and like Ecclesiastes, something ‘for every purpose under heaven’. I have seen the exquisite captures of professionals right next to amateur’s cliché. In fact one group I belong to is <a href="http://www.flickr.com/groups/1367767@N25/">Cliché Saturday</a>. Another is <a href="http://www.flickr.com/groups/worms-eye_view/">Worm’s- Eye View Sunday</a>. </span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;">I have “met” some really interesting people in these groups. A positive vibe seems to permeate each and every one of these assemblies of picture takers. They leave encouraging comments on my submissions. I return the favor. In less than 1000 words, there is a long conversation. It results in inspiration, challenge, and all manner of ‘chicken soup for the soul’. I have connected my flickr photostream to facebook and provided a link to it here. Just click on the flickr ‘photographr’ badge.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;"></span>PinkInklingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07181372531138358931noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525038639760018158.post-89861853184071499112010-08-22T00:26:00.003-05:002010-08-22T00:33:06.458-05:00Left the Light on...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPOOscMtFarsYsUeALkgW-LedXt5Ho9-7bUAxaPEMb0d19dtB4I7VDWmfP9v5xUfTDz5CX1YlVSF9Mp6VqUCno2TlAFROnI73zVOQwu70zP0zFmzw_yTYqJx5ddZ3HwRxwolQNjKt-Kt9b/s1600/1998WindPoint7.JPG"><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508101939809286290" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 239px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPOOscMtFarsYsUeALkgW-LedXt5Ho9-7bUAxaPEMb0d19dtB4I7VDWmfP9v5xUfTDz5CX1YlVSF9Mp6VqUCno2TlAFROnI73zVOQwu70zP0zFmzw_yTYqJx5ddZ3HwRxwolQNjKt-Kt9b/s320/1998WindPoint7.JPG" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;"> “We are told to let our light shine, and if it does, we won't need to tell anybody it does. Lighthouses don't fire cannons to call attention to their shining- they just shine.”<br />Dwight L. Moody quotes (American Evangelist, 1837-1899)<br /><br />Soon there will be a full moon filling up the night skies. Tonight, however, there is fog. And sentinels over a century old are still at work, aiding those at sea. The oil lamps are gone; solar power fuels them now. Towers are literally bringing sunlight to the night.<br /><br />They are like church steeples to me. Monuments to Light; they are guiding and beckoning those in need. Reassuring to others who know their own path. I could write pages about their symbolism…but pictures are frequently worth a thousand words.<br /><br />This is Wind Point Light near Racine, Wisconsin. It is a beautiful place, by <em>day</em> <strong>or </strong><em>night.<br /></em><br />If you browse on over to another good source of Light, you’ll find <strong>Se’lah’s</strong> blog, <a href="http://momentarysolace.blogspot.com/"><strong>Necessary Room</strong></a>, and you can also find out how to win a copy of this print!<br /></span><br /><div></div>PinkInklingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07181372531138358931noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525038639760018158.post-41844564012460733202010-08-21T22:57:00.008-05:002010-08-21T23:21:25.182-05:00Hello Kitty Maneki Neko<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3_ONBb24W7qhDUF3UY-aqcYObwFME_3UMWrwAixNOqQ6HuprtHep_Vfny1hnr_840cXl8LeiEUAom8i-hSWtnBTX126A3wXgcCtRG6c0elJwbAntwLa_X2EP27C0gVZtDS_uFkf8p_mP5/s1600/HelloKittyManekiNeko_2.JPG"><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508078727364115282" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 254px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3_ONBb24W7qhDUF3UY-aqcYObwFME_3UMWrwAixNOqQ6HuprtHep_Vfny1hnr_840cXl8LeiEUAom8i-hSWtnBTX126A3wXgcCtRG6c0elJwbAntwLa_X2EP27C0gVZtDS_uFkf8p_mP5/s320/HelloKittyManekiNeko_2.JPG" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;"> I learned a white cat being a Japanese symbol for luck on Animal Planet. It was Cats 101, if memory serves me. Shops often display a cat figure, with one paw raised, to beckon or welcome customers. The name for this custom is Maneki Neko. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAnfDJHv1xZXIlOGHQeuw7t1jXkttAXh92DcCW12LYcowULbZSIK-fnOBns-fgj0XpKO7UNSN0tgrZK4_jSQvAep0N5YKJ_01zfw7rv3l8kSY6Gds7JYlML8z9qLP1RS8Ta3oMYjsQGtpr/s1600/8-20-2010+Maneki1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508084173267583490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 167px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 87px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAnfDJHv1xZXIlOGHQeuw7t1jXkttAXh92DcCW12LYcowULbZSIK-fnOBns-fgj0XpKO7UNSN0tgrZK4_jSQvAep0N5YKJ_01zfw7rv3l8kSY6Gds7JYlML8z9qLP1RS8Ta3oMYjsQGtpr/s320/8-20-2010+Maneki1.jpg" border="0" /></a></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;">I don’t know if Hello Kitty is a modern version of this old tradition, but I couldn’t resist the one that I found.<br /><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;">I have a lifetime love of cats and have had several wonderful feline companions. A cat frequently makes an appearance in my paintings. </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9bgIdY3vyK9bF0OcGi435WcCQ9zTgfrkLa9cwChsGbzCv4gmNGJ3ZOS_84J28h1o73KBpDVBiGzY7PhYwoIXsANwFv1e3M2ZJ3AID-iT3aUhSCbCLyUfmWpZI6AdshLZgceBiwZ-p5TeY/s1600/1989catsPunkin&Rusty.jpg"><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508080879530458962" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 239px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9bgIdY3vyK9bF0OcGi435WcCQ9zTgfrkLa9cwChsGbzCv4gmNGJ3ZOS_84J28h1o73KBpDVBiGzY7PhYwoIXsANwFv1e3M2ZJ3AID-iT3aUhSCbCLyUfmWpZI6AdshLZgceBiwZ-p5TeY/s320/1989catsPunkin&Rusty.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;">I have <strong><em>nothing</em></strong> against dogs; cats just made it my heart faster.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;">For more detailed info on this custom, its history and legends, click </span><a href="http://donaldmoon.tripod.com/neko/collect04.html"><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;">here </span></a><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;">or </span><a href="http://www.best-cat-art.com/Japanese-lucky-cat.html"><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;">here</span></a><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;"> .</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;">For more on the Japanese bobtail Cat, click </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Japanese_Bobtail"><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;">here</span></a>PinkInklingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07181372531138358931noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525038639760018158.post-23126244066618445382010-08-09T00:58:00.003-05:002010-08-09T01:11:54.267-05:00Blessed Events<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjqLbYhKeOBexKNMBLkLTnTT8uUhprJy_qeixoe_vfFNyKzwYyzDN_40cMcAs_nSZzQJIk5jETb7Fq6mRYHqoecKlYebtwd2llGZ4wBLGG6EIiLA7bvoQuwuRJ2jUC8qx84F11WTsKlQKw/s1600/babyboy.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503286003759066978" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjqLbYhKeOBexKNMBLkLTnTT8uUhprJy_qeixoe_vfFNyKzwYyzDN_40cMcAs_nSZzQJIk5jETb7Fq6mRYHqoecKlYebtwd2llGZ4wBLGG6EIiLA7bvoQuwuRJ2jUC8qx84F11WTsKlQKw/s320/babyboy.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;">I have posted some somber events in the circle of life here. It is time to strike a balance.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;">This weekend's big family news was that my nephew and his wife became parents of a bouncy baby boy. Joyful tears abound...</span></div><div><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"><em>"It is not a slight thing when they, who are so fresh from God, love us. "</em></span></div><div><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;">Charles Dickens</span></div>PinkInklingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07181372531138358931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525038639760018158.post-40668611334683672762010-08-03T14:29:00.010-05:002010-08-03T15:16:30.329-05:00Tiny Treasures Tray<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguy7EMAcZ2dyV8HhVRJAW0uxKmr4jjIrLE-eSh4Hswfiu6TZ8INwbogthhjwv9N4QGHXkfSpPOJ-7m6O9edAlj5CFWIGYUv7StUuq5NkNpd46G7sKOm3MZp8DP7MonUk9SyFSjhlTJvR8d/s1600/TinyTreasureP2Bs4673.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501268351631973010" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 304px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguy7EMAcZ2dyV8HhVRJAW0uxKmr4jjIrLE-eSh4Hswfiu6TZ8INwbogthhjwv9N4QGHXkfSpPOJ-7m6O9edAlj5CFWIGYUv7StUuq5NkNpd46G7sKOm3MZp8DP7MonUk9SyFSjhlTJvR8d/s320/TinyTreasureP2Bs4673.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;">I am spending more time on flickr mostly because I am spending more time with my camera. I post something and catch a glimpse of something someone else did. I get inspired, take more pictures, post some...well, you can see how quickly this becomes self-perpetuating. This little collage was going to go to the Creative Challenge Group for the theme of 'Good To Be A Girl'. I was disappointed to find the theme had already been changed. At the same time, however, I found another group: Tiny Treasures. There were several tiny things in the arrangement, so I figured it qualified. Close to the little ladybug is a 'point' (it <em>says</em> '1 POINT' on it) It is a ration point that was used during the Great Depression. I found it inside the small leather pouch in the lower right corner. The oval baby picture is of Mom; the reverse side of which is a mirror.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff6666;">Next to the oval are tiny embroidered flowers, once used as decorations on a garment. The ribbon came in an order of note cards from <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/soulaperture">Soul Aperture's <strong>Etsy</strong> shop</a>. It is, by comparison, rather new, but it fit <strong><em>so</em></strong> well. The flickr version of these <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/moonflowerstudio/4781558340/in/set-72157624307109934/">Tiny Treasures</a> has little notes that tell more of the stories on this tray. Your quite welcome to pop over there to visit. Or you might like to visit <a href="http://matissecolor.blogspot.com/2010/08/picks-from-creative-challenge-group.html">Simply Hue's </a>post of her favorites from the past week's challenge: "In A Row". My row of sailboats made it to the set. Like the '<em>ink' </em>in this post, I'm tickled <strong><em>pink!</em></strong></span></div>PinkInklingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07181372531138358931noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525038639760018158.post-51846834987117214672010-07-26T23:59:00.007-05:002010-07-27T00:14:23.109-05:00Happy Birthday<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqrZtNhS7mlouMo1gs2o4frE_H72DoSKiZKZRAlRTHleWv3GpDNV7p7N-e00McuhuKySLdgjNdylUFR_XUC4sD68UcH3qDEzzzxzgGTqqfxcoEJtvgBLV2pKt7YU3PEY0bm6KrtJHFDbcz/s1600/An+Occaisional+Cookie.JPG"><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498446987316439522" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 245px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqrZtNhS7mlouMo1gs2o4frE_H72DoSKiZKZRAlRTHleWv3GpDNV7p7N-e00McuhuKySLdgjNdylUFR_XUC4sD68UcH3qDEzzzxzgGTqqfxcoEJtvgBLV2pKt7YU3PEY0bm6KrtJHFDbcz/s400/An+Occaisional+Cookie.JPG" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;"> </span><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;">Today is Se'Lah's birthday. She is the <strong>Super Hero</strong> of the </span><a href="http://momentarysolace.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;">NecessaryRoom</span></a><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;"> blog. Ever the Champion of the underdog and fierce Protector of Justice, she still manages to pull off HUGE web parties for others. She expects nothing in return.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;">I think she at<em> least</em> needs an occasional cookie. I decided she might like some NASCAR Oreos.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff6666;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;">Happy Birthday </span><a href="http://momentarysolace.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;">Se'Lah</span></a><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff6666;">!<br /></span>PinkInklingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07181372531138358931noreply@blogger.com3