I cant write well. I read a lot though but cant seem to translate my ideas into fluent words.
How does one start in becoming a passionate writer?
I am now attending the Alpha course in an attempt to build the foundations of my faith. I am going to immerse myself in the Bible next. Its been a long time since I read the Bible.
The Greatest Treasure
Like many career military spouses, I couldn't wait until my husband retired. My husband and I were probably the worst couple in the active duty Navy to ever go through deployment separations. As much as my husband loved the sea, he missed me with a passion, and as much as I supported him in his chosen career, I hated every moment away from him.
I coped with our separations the best way that I could. I prayed for his safety, wrote letters every day, and I prepared for each deployment in advance. I made up dozens of small notes and packages for him, which I secretly tucked into his sea bag, so that he could discover them when he was out to sea. We both kept separate journals, which we wrote in every day, sharing tidbits of the lives we led apart. To this day those notes are still precious to us.
Finally in 1996 my husband retired from the Navy. We moved back to the Virginia mountains that we loved, unaware that we were diving into the longest separation of our marriage. My asthma made it impossible for me to live in the city, and the only job available for my husband was six-and-a-half hours away in Norfolk, Virginia.
We spent eight months apart. By this time email was available, so we finally were able to share our love every single day. That was our hardest separation, perhaps because we had planned to be together, and we had never planned to be apart. Louie came to visit as often as he could. We drove to be with him on Thanksgiving and Christmas. He continued to apply for jobs in the area in which we hoped to live, and we prayed that soon we would be able to be together as a family again.
One day Louie called me with the good news. He had a job opportunity in southwest Virginia, right in the heart of the Appalachian mountains. We were thrilled! Louie was hired immediately, and we would soon be a family again. There was only one small problem. Louie would have to live in a camper, while our daughters and I lived in a little house an hour-and-a-half away, until we could find just the right house.
Okay, I told myself. I know how to do this. We've been separated before. My resolve lasted three days. I turned to my daughters, both old enough to take care of themselves, and I announced, "Okay girls, you're on your own! I'm going to be with my husband!"
In minutes I was packed, and I was on my way to be reunited with my beloved. I drove over mountain roads through a driving rainstorm. Night-blind and terrified, not even a police road block outside the state prison could keep me from my destination. God bless the Virginia State Police! They waved me through, before I could sob out my entire story.
There's no doubt in my mind that angels guided me. I'd have never found that campground in the dark by myself. As I drove up, I could see my husband, reading by the light of a tiny lamp, framed by the camper window. I pulled to a halt, nearly killing myself getting out of the car, as he threw the camper door open. Louis's hand reached out for me, as I stumbled into his arms. Such warmth and affection was worth a journey of a thousand miles!
Louie and I spent a glorious three-and-a-half weeks together. One morning after he had left for work, I sat alone in the camper trying to remember any possession that was as priceless as the time God had given us together. I couldn't think of a single thing. We moved into that camper and lived there for a year, squeezed together like sardines. It was pure joy! I learned in that year that the greatest treasure I have is the time I've been given with the ones I love. The worldly treasures that we gave away? You know, I still can't recall a single thing.
© Jaye Lewis, 2005
Jaye Lewis is an award winning writer and contributing author for the Chicken Soup for the Soul series. Jaye lives happily with her family in the Appalachian Mountains of Virginia. Jaye is on the last stage of re-editing her book Entertaining Angels, and she should have it ready to submit to a publisher early this fall. Jaye's website can be found at www.entertainingangels.org Email Jaye at jayelewis@comcast.net
BUENOS AIRES, Argentina (AP) -- Diego Maradona acknowledged that he struck the ball with his hand in the famous ``Hand of God'' goal against England in the 1986 World Cup quarterfinals.
Speaking on his local television talk show Monday night, Maradona called one of soccer's most controversial goals ``something that just came out of me. It was a bit of mischief.''
Maradona appeared to punch the ball into the net, and officials allowed the goal to stand despite protests by the English team. Argentina went on to win the 1986 quarterfinal match 2-1 and then win the World Cup.
In his most detailed comments yet, Maradona said he was unable to reach the ball for a header when he went up against the taller English goalkeeper, Peter Shilton.
Shilton ``was very tall. He didn't see anything, and a teammate told him'' afterward what happened, said Maradona.
After the score, Maradona said he quickly realized the line referee had allowed the goal but none of his teammates had rushed to celebrate with him -- themselves figuring the goal would be waved off.
``I was waiting for my teammates to embrace me and no one came,'' said Maradona, who was the team captain. ``I told them, 'Come hug me or the referee isn't going to allow it.'''
In his 20-year career before retiring in 1997, Maradona starred at Argentinos Juniors and Boca Juniors and in Europe. He also led Argentina to the 1990 World Cup final and won Italian and Argentine league titles.
In 1991, Maradona failed a drug test and was banned for 15 months. Nine years later, FIFA chose him and Pele as the best players in soccer history.
Recently, he was appointed vice president of Boca Juniors. And with his new TV show, Maradona, 45, has returned to the limelight after years of dealing with cocaine addiction and health problems.
Broken Eggs and Shattered Glass
...with my sincere thanks to those late night pranksters!
On a recent Saturday evening at around midnight, my wife and I were just about to turn out the light and go to sleep when we heard the sounds of a group of people talking in the street, outside our home. Then out of the blue came two loud thuds above our bedroom window, followed by the noise of laughter and people running away down our street.
We both jumped out of bed, I turned on the external lights and rushed outside unsure of what had caused the two thuds or what damage I could expect to see. The silence of the night was broken by the distant sound of people laughing and at that moment I was of a mind to chase after them, however, running bare-footed on the road in the dark is not a very wise thing to do.
I could hear dripping noises on the driveway and the flood light above our garage helped me to identify just what had happened. Our home had been the victim of an egg bombing!
Being faced with the prospect of cleaning up this sticky mess in the early hours of the morning was not a pleasing thought, on top of which I was less than impressed that we had been singled out for this annoying prank. I decided that it was too late to clean up the mess, as it would disturb our neighbours, so it could wait to the morning.
Early next morning with a bucket of warm water and scrubbing brush in hand, and with the extension ladder placed on the front wall, I was now ready to wash off what was now two dry yellowish, egg grit impregnated, 1 metre long patches above our front bedroom windows.
My task was made even more challenging by the two large canvas awnings which protect our bedroom windows from the heat and glare of the afternoon sun. My annoyance with the late night pranksters was again building to the level of the night before.
After retracting each of the awnings, something we rarely do except when there are very high winds, I then climbed the ladder to clean up the first patch of egg stain and then move the ladder to clean the second patch.
As I climbed the ladder for the second time, I noticed that the glass in a small window just under the roof line was very badly cracked. On closer inspection the crack ran around over half of the outer edge of the window pane. As the awning protected the window, it was clear to me that the damage had not been caused by the egg bombing. As I carefully placed my hand on the glass, I discovered that the pane of glass was very loose and had the window been closed with any force, it would have most likely shattered and the glass dropped to the drive way, some seven metres below.
Just a few metres away, we have a basketball ring and on most days of the week there are up to six young people who play in the immediate area, including both my sons. My thoughts immediately turned to what could have happened if the broken glass in the window had gone undetected for much longer and then suddenly shattered. The likelihood of my two sons and their friends being seriously injured was extremely high.
After quickly washing the remaining egg stain off the front wall and with the help of Tom, my youngest son, I got to work with some heavy duty masking tape and secured the cracked window as best I could. Within 24 hours the cracked window had been replaced and all was back to normal, except for the small bits of egg shell I kept finding on the front drive way and stuck to our garage doors.
Over the next few days, I realized that had our home not been bombarded by those eggs late on that Saturday night, I may not have discovered the broken window pane before it shattered and came down all over our drive way.
Even though it had been an annoyance at the time, the broken eggs and the stains were cleaned up very quickly, however, the pain that could have been caused by the shattering of glass would never have gone away and would have haunted my wife and myself, forever and a day.
The cold shudder that ran down my spine when I first discovered the cracked window and the thought about the consequences of someone being seriously injured or even killed, made me realize just how very lucky we had been.
Frequently in life, the small things that happen to us may have a negative impact and cause some form of pain, sadness, discomfort or personal aggravation. It is often said that we should not 'sweat the small stuff' and always look for the positive outcome or the silver lining in those dark clouds of the current circumstance, even though at the time that is not always an easy thing to do.
My personal experience with the egg bombing on that Saturday evening reminded me that in most cases there is always a flip side to everything that happens to us and that often the flip side can provide a positive outcome or an even greater benefit, if not now, then at some time in the future.
From now on whenever I see or break an egg, I will think of the egg bombing incident and say a thank you to those late night pranksters. Equally, I will always be reminded of Jean-Paul Sartre's quote:
"What is important is not what happens to us, but how we respond to what happens to us."
-- Keith Ready --
"It is inevitable that some defeat will enter even the most victorious life. The human spirit is never finished when it is defeated... it is finished when it surrenders."
Ben Stein,
Professor and Writer
Who's Driving Your Bus?
If we think about our own lives as being a journey on a bus, surrounded by a great variety of people, all with particular positions on our bus that relate to where they fit into our lives. Some are right there next to us; some behind us; some in front of us... but all are important in playing some role in how we are "positioned" in their lives, and they in ours.
As I write this I am reminded of the movie "Speed" with Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves - where they were all on a bus being controlled by a maniac demanding a ransom. The truth is that all too often our lives can be like that; out of control, with someone else doing the driving. A fearful situation? Of course it is!
The brutal truth is that so many people are living-out that nightmare bus-ride right now! Out of control - and don't know what they can do about it.
OK, now you've got the scene in your mind. In order to get some perspective on our own lives, we need to move to the back seat of the bus for a while, and become the observer of what is really going on.
We need to observe who the most significant people are, and how they are positioned in our lives.
Are they standing over us because they feel superior? Are they moving forward in their own lives and leaving us behind? Are they falling behind us because we've chosen to move forward?
So now we are faced with an important question, "Who's driving your bus"?
Is it someone from your past who has dominated you and what you do, even though they may not still be present in your life now? Are they taking you where you want to go? Do you feel like you would like to the bus to stop and let you off? Now here comes the challenge...
From this rear seat of observation, we need to start to move closer to the driver's seat. It doesn't matter how long this takes, and it doesn't matter how much we are challenged by the people who may be trying to block our progress forward. We have to do this for ourselves... starting right now!
Our goal is to be in the driver's seat of our own lives!
It is inevitable that we are going to be challenged, and that's when we need courage!
Yes - we will all take different lengths of time to move forward... that's when we need persistence, and patience with ourselves!
Most certainly we will feel daunted at times by this process... that's when we need to have determination!
We are going to have to ask people to vacate their seats (which can possibly be their dominant positions in our lives) so that we can move forward towards that front seat we wish to occupy. We are going to have to sit in the middle of the bus at times while we learn to muster more courage and determination to move forward again. This is all part of the process, so stick with it because this is all for YOU!
During this process of moving forward we must remain conscious of where the bus is now, and think about where we really want to take it once we're up front, and in control.
One very important point! At no stage in this process do we tread on someone if they get in our way (as we move forward), simply step around them and move on.
OK - you've made it! You have asked the driver to step aside and let you have your turn, and now you're in the seat. It's all up to you now!
If you're not too sure of what to do and how to do it, just stop and park for a while. It doesn't matter what you do and how long it takes, because this is your game now - so play it your way!
Get crystal clear on where you choose to take your bus now, and very clear on who you wish to accompany you on this new journey. The rest is a process of trusting your own judgement and decisions.
Good luck... and always remember - "What other people do or say is their stuff; how we react is our stuff."
©Phil Evans - People Stuff T - 2005
Phil Evans is a Motivator, Business Coach, Life Coach and Inspirational Writer based in Australia. You can visit his website at: www.peoplestuff.com.au or feel free to email Phil with your comments on his story at: phil@peoplestuff.com.auGoogle recently held a webinar for AdSense publishers. They gave out some adsense optimization tips that they have gathered over the past few years. The transcript is pretty lengthy, so here's the summary:
Narrating Jesus of Nazareth’s journey in bringing God’s message to mankind, this movie stars Henry Ian Cusick as Jesus and is directed by Philip Saville. A lot of care and study went into the production of this movie to ensure its authenticity and that the story keeps faithful to its source’s material.
“The Gospel Of John” is the first movie to be awarded the Seal Of Approval by the National Association Evangelicals and is also the winner of Epiphany Prize as ‘The Most Inspiring Movie’ in 2003 by the Christian Films and Television Commission – a Christian Equivalent of an Oscar.
In Malaysia, this movie has been passed with a U rating by the censorship board but will only be allowed limited screening, where the tickets will not be for sale at the cinema box office counter. Rather, movie patrons who are interested in purchasing tickets can do so at nearby churches or by private screening through hall rental.
Talking to a representative from Mega Pavillion Cinemas Penang, we were told that they hoped the churches would give as much support to this movie as they had given for “The Passion Of Christ”.
The movie will begin screening on 1 September 2005 and is expected to run until the end of October this year.
Cinema Online, 19 August 2005 University of Washington, cherry trees at the Quad in early morning sunshine
best viewed large.
Still having lovely time, wish you were here (actually, most of you seem to be. This was the only spot in the Chamonix valley that wasn't jammed with 1,000 cars)....
The French town of Oyonnax unwisely proclaims itself the capital of the French plastics industry, which is one reason not to visit. But Oyonnax, which sprawls up the valley a couple of miles from our village, is full of surprises.
It may be the only place in the world with a Museum of Combs. It also claims, perhaps improbably, to be the place where the yo-yo was invented.
And it has some very peculiar architecture.
In the late 1960s and 1970s, hordes of newly-trained French architects, inspired by the legendary Le Corbusier and fired by post-68 revolutionary zeal, headed for the provinces in search of projects.
They built some spectacularly ugly buildings, all concrete blocks with odd angles and zero charm. They can still be found today, hulking wrecks disfiguring the landscapes of many a provincial town.
Yet occasionally, amid the dour Socialist carnage, moments of modernist inspiration flowered. I found this glorious concrete staircase tucked almost embarrassedly behind a box-like municipal structure in Oyonnax. I began to look further, and sure enough, this unappetising French town proved a treasure trove of 20th century architectural ornament.
I'll be posting some more when I get back to NJ next week. In one sense there's nothing remotely French about these geometric studies in colour and line. Yet for countless small towns like Oyonnax, strange buildings and wild colours are as French as garlic and onions.
First shot posted taken in RAW, but converted to JPEG for processing since I don't have Adobe RAW or NikonCapture. Looks much sharper and more vivid than my full-sized JPEG shots at the same resolution. Any image processing buffs know if RAWs generally perform like this over shots taken in JPEG, even if they're converted to JPEGs after the fact? Thought it might be b/c all compression was done by software and not the camera itself...?
This is the view from slightly above what is, to my best knowledge, the most popular snorkeling site on the Hawaiin Islands. We went and tried it out for the first time. I never realized how difficult it is to breathe only through one's mouth, but enjoyed it nonetheless.
No I do not work for the National Geographic.
No I do not work for the National Geographic.
Nor the Conde Naste Traveler. Nor the surfing O’Neill’s.
Nor do I hang around, loitering the sets of Playboy.
It's a hard choice not to.
Besides the money, fame and the perks those big guys throw around,
it's as much a wish as a need, for any aspiring photographer.
What I despise, though, is the attitude.
The bigger the name, the worse it becomes.
Maldives is small. It's impossible not cross each others paths.
Especially when those paths are queued with egos, sneers and
trucks.
Trucks of photo equipment the big-namers carry around, to, perhaps exaggerate the bigness of the game.
Oh!
Photography has become a game?
I thought it was all about moments, creativity and hard work.
I have seen Smarties being exchanged for smiles.
I have seen photographers bargaining with the power of greenbacks($$$).
I have seen magic. The special disappearing act performed by many hasty pros, (without even a thank) in search for the next, award-winning shot.
I am just being jealous. I know.
I am cheap.
I never, ever, offer anything in return for my photos.
Except love.
My people love me, just as I love them.
I also know that I belong. In Maldives, it’s difficult to navigate
the terrain, nor, dodge the beaurocracy that arises in the rush of the moment.
No I do not work for the National Geographic.
No I do not work for the National Geographic.
Nor the Conde Naste Traveler. Nor the surfing O’Neill’s.
Nor do I hang around, loitering the sets of Playboy.
It's a hard choice not to.
Besides the money, fame and the perks those big guys throw around,
it's as much a wish as a need, for any aspiring photographer.
What I despise, though, is the attitude.
The bigger the name, the worse it becomes.
Maldives is small. It's impossible not cross each others paths.
Especially when those paths are queued with egos, sneers and
trucks.
Trucks of photo equipment the big-namers carry around, to, perhaps exaggerate the bigness of the game.
Oh!
Photography has become a game?
I thought it was all about moments, creativity and hard work.
I have seen Smarties being exchanged for smiles.
I have seen photographers bargaining with the power of greenbacks($$$).
I have seen magic. The special disappearing act performed by many hasty pros, (without even a thank) in search for the next, award-winning shot.
I am just being jealous. I know.
I am cheap.
I never, ever, offer anything in return for my photos.
Except love.
My people love me, just as I love them.
I also know that I belong. In Maldives, it’s difficult to navigate
the terrain, nor, dodge the beaurocracy that arises in the rush of the moment.
An older lady gets pulled over for speeding...
Older Woman: Is there a problem, Officer?
Officer: Ma'am, you were speeding.
Older Woman: Oh, I see.
Officer: Can I see your license please?
Older Woman: I'd give it to you but I don't have one.
Officer: Don't have one?
Older Woman: Lost it, 4 years ago for drunk driving.
Officer: I see...Can I see your vehicle registration papers please.
Older Woman: I can't do that.
Officer: Why not?
Older Woman: I stole this car.
Officer: Stole it?
Older Woman: Yes, and I killed and hacked up the owner.
Officer: You what?
Older Woman: His body parts are in plastic bags in the trunk if you want to see
The Officer looks at the woman and slowly backs away to his car and calls for back up. Within minutes 5 police cars circle the car. A senior officer slowly approaches the car, clasping his half drawn gun.
Officer 2: Ma'am, could you step out of your vehicle please! The woman steps out of her vehicle.
Older woman: Is there a problem sir?
Officer 2: One of my officers told me that you have
stolen this car and murdered the owner.
Older Woman: Murdered the owner?
Officer 2: Yes, could you please open the trunk
of your car, please.
The woman opens the trunk, revealing nothing but
an empty trunk.
Officer 2: Is this your car, ma'am?
Older Woman: Yes, here are the registration papers.
The officer is quite stunned.
Officer 2: One of my officers c
The woman digs into her handbag and pulls out a clutch purse and hands it to the officer.
The officer examines the license. He looks quite puzzled.
Officer 2: Thank you ma'am, one of my officers told me you didn't have a license, that you stole this car, and that you murdered and hacked up the owner.
Older Woman: Bet the liar told you I was speeding, too.
Don't Mess With Old Ladies
After looking at the slide show, I was inspired to send my contrbutions, all
taken in front of the Ocean Haven lodge, in Yachats.
When you hear the words "professional Web developer," you probably don't think of someone like Mehak Bagai, unless your version of reality comes straight from Aaron Spelling. But not only is she a consultant for NetBridges, she is also an up-and-coming actress and, yes, model.
Do you sometimes feel
that trees whisper to you?
I do.
They bring messages of hope,
hope for the future,
hope for mankind.
They'll be here,
many years from now,
whispering ,
to those who want to hear.
Cung Le, three time world champion fought in San Jose's Strikeforce Muay Thai World Tournament and kept his title.
Taken just a few yards away from the location of Sunset #1, on a different day with more cloud cover.
Otok Sv. Nikola, Porec, Croatia.
I took this photo during a trans-european bike ride at an Austrian campground near the Slovakian/Hungarian border.
Last night's sky, taken from the same spot as this one. It's the first sunset we've have for a while, as there has been no cloud at all. Hopefully, this means a cooling trend.
Usually, if I looked behind me from this spot, I'd see Beethoven staring down wondering what I'm up to, but I haven't seen him for a while. The salmon have started to spawn, so perhaps he is away up north on a fishing trip.
