tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54478609368129275412024-03-05T03:31:25.018-05:00Life is Like My Dog, UnpredictableA blog about embracing life and its complete unpredictable nature.Magdalenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18363587041614129719noreply@blogger.comBlogger69125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5447860936812927541.post-40949046525034879612017-07-02T09:37:00.001-04:002017-07-02T09:52:36.538-04:00Good NewsWith all the negative stuff out in the world today my mind seems to spin from the unnecessariness of it all. Mind you this is not a political statement. Although it is virtually impossible to not be affected by the bantor from our leaders around the world.<br />
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What the heck is going on? Does anyone have an answer? How can we correct the wrongs? Fix what seems to be broken? Get back to some sense of civility? How will future generations be affected? These are the questions that turn around inside my head, over and over, and over again.<br />
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For self preservation I find myself looking to the simpler things, the kinder words, the things that are tangibly and inherently positive. This has lead me to listen to more music, not realizing that was even possible, and maybe a little less NPR. Just a little less as my need to stay informed is still strong.<br />
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Music has lifted my spirits and given me continued hope. This morning I heard this song and was compelled to share it. Guess I just needed to hear some "Good News."<br />
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<a href="https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=TX9ODx2_Vqk" target="_blank">https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=TX9ODx2_Vqk</a><br />
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Find whatever keeps you in a positive place. Hopeful that we shall overcome.<br />
Let freedom ring,<br />
Magda<br />
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<br />Magdalenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18363587041614129719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5447860936812927541.post-75350425504383481082015-09-20T20:50:00.001-04:002015-09-20T21:13:46.120-04:00THIS DAYJust like every day, I am grateful for this day.<br />
I am...<br />
Grateful for the people who make Brownie Brittle.<br />
Grateful for the program people from Showtime for scheduling to play "Four Weddings and a Funeral" today so I had a good reason to put off doing the laundry.<br />
Grateful to the Washington Redskins for giving me a reason to watch football today, and another reason for continuing to put off the laundry.<br />
Grateful for E! network for showing a mere four hours of Red Carpet prior to the beginning of the Emmys and for timing the beginning of their coverage to coincide with the end of the football game.<br />
Grateful to the Chinese Food Delivery man for arriving during a commercial break.<br />
Grateful to my husband for not judging me and for watching all afore mentioned shows with me.<br />
Grateful to my husband some more for knowing when to stop eating the Brownie Brittle.<br />
Grateful to the people who choose the presenters for the Emmys for choosing John Stamos to be a Presenter. (Oh c'mon admit it he is easy on the eyes)<br />
Grateful for the DVR because there are three other shows I am missing to watch the Emmys.<br />
Grateful for tomorrow.....which can be, will be, more productive than today! (But may not be as much fun.)<br />
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<i>Gratefully,</i><br />
<i>Magda</i>Magdalenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18363587041614129719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5447860936812927541.post-76923285254610390812015-09-13T16:13:00.001-04:002017-07-02T09:24:08.353-04:00GIFT FROM THE SEAAs summer draws to a close I find myself thinking of ways to keep its pace and promise alive until next June. My favorite summer activity is to be near the sea. For decades our family returned to the same beach. Falling easily into routines in a place where we felt at home. A place full of happy memories, favorite people, delicious food and the ever calling sounds of the ocean.<br />
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This summer we went to a different beach in the same state. There was a little trepidation. Beyond feeling grateful to be able to get away there was a feeling of wonder and excitement of what this new adventure would bring but also a feeling of longing for our familiar haunts and faces. Quickly we realized how happy we were to just be together that it didn't matter that it was in a new place. We fell into new routines and began feeling at home.<br />
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I attribute most of this to the sea itself. As my sister and I went to the beach the first day we realized it's not so much where you visit the majesty of the water but that you visit it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-S3qFY7EsJSy3UHAsg3W3hEJzB_NToQD7rWkK9LPatbH61vrWHcJPCtAIoY2oxZFjAot8xy5j5XR4ENtVo8wnbdm8actVcz5gMioTwKexuH-NNdf_yN8qeooO_4n4MK8xyc-TpWC0fbbU/s1600/gift-from-the-sea-cover1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-S3qFY7EsJSy3UHAsg3W3hEJzB_NToQD7rWkK9LPatbH61vrWHcJPCtAIoY2oxZFjAot8xy5j5XR4ENtVo8wnbdm8actVcz5gMioTwKexuH-NNdf_yN8qeooO_4n4MK8xyc-TpWC0fbbU/s320/gift-from-the-sea-cover1.jpg" width="320" /></a>Every summer at the beach I read the same book,<i> Gift from the Sea</i>, by Anne Morrow Lindbergh. It recalls her<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> reflections on life, its stages and its states, and compares them with the natural treasures of life at the sea. This book was written in 1955 but it's message is timeless.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Admittedly, I have always been mildly obsessed with the author. She was married to one of the world's most famous men. Her life was thrust into celebrity status which she despised but handled with grace. She was herself an accomplished aviator and navigator having flown alongside her husband on many of his flights. She was an accomplished author. <i>Gift from the Sea </i>was written on Captiva Island, a quiet retreat for the author where she gazed inward at life, marriage, and family. </span><br />
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I share these excepts from the book with the hope that you too can capture a little bit of it's message and carry it with you until it's time to return to the sea.<br />
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Excepts from <i>Gift from the Sea</i> by Anne Morrow Lindbergh<br />
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<em style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">"I began these pages for myself, in order to think out my own particular pattern of living, my own individual balance of life, work and human relationships. And since I think best with a pencil in my </em><br />
<em style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">hand, I started naturally to write...</em><br />
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<strong style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">The Beach</strong></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. To dig for </span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">treasures shows not only impatience and greed, but lack of faith. Patience, patience, patience, is what the sea teaches. Patience and faith. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach — waiting for a gift from the sea.</span></div>
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<strong style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Channeled Whelk</strong></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">But his shell — it is simple; it is bare, it is beautiful. Small, only the size of my thumb, its architecture is perfect, down to the finest detail. Its shape, swelling like a pear in the center, winds in a gentle spiral to the pointed apex. Its color, dull gold, is whitened by a wash of salt </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">from the sea. Each whorl, each faint knob, each criss-cross vein in its egg-shell texture, is as clearly defined as on the day of creation. My eye follows with delight the outer circumference of that diminutive winding staircase up which this tenant used to travel.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">My shell is not like this, I think. How untidy it has become! Blurred with moss, knobby with barnacles, its shape is hardly recognizable any more. Surely, it had a shape once. It has a shape still in my mind. What is the shape of my life?</span></div>
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<strong style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Moon Shell</strong></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">We are all, in the last analysis, alone. And this basic state of solitude is not something we have any choice about. It is, as the poet Rilke says, "not something that one can take or leave. We <em style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-variant: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">are</em> solitary. We may delude ourselves and act as though this were not so. That is all. But how much better it is to realize that we are so, yes, even to begin by assuming it. Naturally," he goes on to </span>say, "we will turn giddy."</div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Naturally. How one hates to think of oneself as alone. How one avoids it. It seems to imply rejection or unpopularity. An early wallflower panic still clings to the world. One will be left, one fears, sitting in a straight-backed chair <em style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-variant: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">alone</em>, while the popular girls are already chosen and spinning around the dance floor with their hot-palmed partners. We seem so frightened today of being alone that we never let it happen. Even if family, friends and movies should fail, there is still the radio or the television to fill up the void. Women, who used to complain of loneliness, need never be alone any more. We can do our housework with soap-opera heroes at our side. Even day-dreaming was more creative than this; it demanded something of oneself and it fed the inner life. Now, instead of planting our solitude with our own dream blossoms, we choke the space with continuous music, chatter and companionship to which we do not even listen. It is simply there to fill the vacuum. When the noise stops there is no inner music to take its place. We must re-learn to be alone.</span></div>
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<strong style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Double-Sunrise</strong></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">We all wish to be loved alone. "Don't sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me," runs the old popular song. Perhaps, as Auden says in his poem, this is a fundamental error in mankind. <em style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-variant: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">For the error bred in the bone/Of each woman and each man/Craves what it cannot have./Not universal love/But to be loved alone.</em></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Is it such a sin? In discussing this verse with an Indian philosopher, I had an illuminating answer: "It is all right to wish to be loved alone," he said, "mutuality is the essence of love. There cannot be others in mutuality. It is only in the time sense that it is wrong. It is when we desire <em style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-variant: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">continuity</em> of being loved alone that we go wrong." For not only do we insist on believing romantically in the "one-and-only" — the one-and-only love, the one-and-only mate, the one-and-only mother, </span>the one-and-only security — we wish the "one-and-only" to be permanent, ever-present and continuous. The desire for continuity of being-loved-alone seems to me "the error bred in the bone" of man. For there is no "one-and-only," as a friend of mine once said in a similar discussion, "there are just one-and-only moments."</div>
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<strong style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Oyster Bed</strong></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Yes, I believe the oyster shell is a good one to express the middle years of marriage. It suggests the struggle of life itself. They oyster has fought to have that place on the rock to which it has fitted itself perfectly and to which it clings tenaciously. So most couples in the growing years of marriage struggle to achieve a place in the world. It is a physical and material battle first of all, for a home, for children, for a place in their particular society... In these years one recognizes the truth of Saint-Exupery's line: "Love does not consist in gazing at each other (one perfect sunrise gazing at another!) but in looking outward together in the same direction." For, in fact, man and </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">woman are not only <em style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-variant: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">looking</em> outward in the same direction; they are <em style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-variant: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">working</em> outward. (Observe the steady encroachment of the oyster bed over the rock.) Here one forms ties, roots, a firm base. (Try and pry an oyster loose from its ledge!)...</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I am very fond of the oyster shell. It is humble and awkward and ugly. it is slate-colored and unsymmetrical. Its form is not primarily beautiful but functional...</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">But is it the permanent symbol of marriage? Should it — any more than the double-sunrise shell — last forever? The tide of life recedes. The house, with its bulging sleeping porches and sheds, begins little by little to empty. The children go away to school and then to marriage and lives of their own... What is one to do — die of atrophy in an outstripped form? Or move on to another form, other experiences?</span></div>
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<strong style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Argonauta</strong></div>
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Intermittency — an impossible lesson for human beings to learn. How can one learn to live through the ebb-tides of one's existence? How can one learn to take the trough of the wave? It is easier to understand here on the beach, where the breathlessly still ebb tides reveal another life below the level which mortals usually reach. In this crystalline moment of suspense, one has a sudden revelation of the secret kingdom at the bottom of the sea. Here in the shallow flats one finds, wading through warm ripples, great horse conchs pivoting on a leg; white sand dollars, marble medallions engraved in the mud; and myriads of bright-colored cochina-clams, glistening in the foam, their shells opening and shutting like butterflies' wings. So beautiful is the still hour of the sea's withdrawal, as beautiful as the sea's return when the encroaching waves pound up the beach, pressing to reach those dark rumpled chains of seaweed which mark the last high tide.</div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Perhaps this is the most important thing for me to take back from beach-living: simply the </span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">memory that each cycle of the tide is valid; each cycle of the wave is valid; each cycle of a relationship is valid. And my shells? I can sweep them all into my pocket. They are only there to remind me that the sea recedes and returns eternally.</span></div>
The words of Anne Morrow Lindbergh are as true today, in 2015, as they were in 1955.<br />
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So I will wait patiently for the time when I can return back to the sea. In the meantime I will remember that life ebbs and flows, that sometimes a storm comes and angers the waters unsettling the foundation but the calm will return. With the calm will come a resettling of things into new places and maybe even uncovered a hidden treasure to add to the collection.<br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><i>Wishing you calm waters,</i></span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Magda</span>Magdalenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18363587041614129719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5447860936812927541.post-71609770929099829632015-09-07T07:41:00.000-04:002015-09-07T13:54:16.868-04:00LABOR OF LOVE<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">"Labor Day, the first Monday in September, is a creation of the labor movement and is dedicated to the social and economic achievements of American workers. It constitutes a yearly national tribute to the contributions workers have made to the strength, prosperity, and well-being of our country." dol.gov</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Since June 1894 Labor Day has been a legal holiday thanks to Congressional Legislation. The day is typically observed by parades, picnics, and rest from the very labor of which is being celebrated.</span><br />
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Martin Luther King once said, "<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">If it falls your lot to be a street sweeper, go out and sweep streets like Michelangelo painted pictures. Sweep streets like Handel and Beethoven composed music. Sweep streets like Shakespeare wrote poetry. Sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will have to pause and say, here lived a great street sweeper who swept his job well.”</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">We probably all know the saying, "Do what you love. Love what you do." </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQD0_btkl_htNIevYF-Mqw_R07e-qKcbjmMLinnEQcIOlZ99WFecfrRvFCGkOtZHVzNUt3gQvylkSKyZse_PaT-EIxAzZX7ilMjpAvlcHe-qQQ-cjkFlhzHlvj_xubNEPmk1oNKgeVxg2U/s1600/Teacher+Heart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQD0_btkl_htNIevYF-Mqw_R07e-qKcbjmMLinnEQcIOlZ99WFecfrRvFCGkOtZHVzNUt3gQvylkSKyZse_PaT-EIxAzZX7ilMjpAvlcHe-qQQ-cjkFlhzHlvj_xubNEPmk1oNKgeVxg2U/s320/Teacher+Heart.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I am blessed to work in a profession where the rewards of the labor are far greater than imaginable. They are not monetary. They are personal. The physical, emotional, and mental toll the job requires are vast but worth it. It is a twelve month, seven day a week labor of love. It has to be. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Yes, there are perks. The business is closed on federal holidays. There is ample time off for winter, spring, and summer vacations. Inside the buildings there is always a good amount of playing, laughter, and singing. There is also always things to be learned. Every moment of every day people are learning. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">My business is education. My building is a school. The people I work with are teachers. Our Labor is done with great love.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">" Rita Pierson, a teacher for 40 years, once heard a colleague say, "They don't pay me to like the kids." Her response: "Kids don't learn from people they don’t like.’” A rousing call to educators to believe in their students and actually connect with them on a real, human, personal level." Ted.com</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">And I bet that today, Labor Day, the people that I work with will be working, planning, and preparing for another day, another week, another moment where their labor can be felt by the people they work for, the people for which they care. For it is with the love and care of what you do that one can really make a difference. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Happy Labor Day,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><i>Magda</i></span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><i><a href="https://www.ted.com/talks/rita_pierson_every_kid_needs_a_champion?language=en" target="_blank">A truly inspirational TED talk by Rita Pierson</a></i></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><i><br /></i></span>Magdalenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18363587041614129719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5447860936812927541.post-23318019243077444292015-08-29T22:19:00.001-04:002015-08-29T22:27:52.527-04:00BORN TO RUN<div style="text-align: right;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsX-tYu0RgktUglJ1w6jVkOrASWve_UMtxZjJE2VpX_3DyWKamBB-Tn-RGz8-eMX6tLce3avETJgMaPobb2Gmwf8M1jyfQlf7Xup4i07-S9WYCnBYiBgAWaxnQ0gb8Vc1xN3tj5Btl1T8w/s1600/Born-To-Run-cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsX-tYu0RgktUglJ1w6jVkOrASWve_UMtxZjJE2VpX_3DyWKamBB-Tn-RGz8-eMX6tLce3avETJgMaPobb2Gmwf8M1jyfQlf7Xup4i07-S9WYCnBYiBgAWaxnQ0gb8Vc1xN3tj5Btl1T8w/s320/Born-To-Run-cover.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bruce and The Big Man</td></tr>
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Forty years ago this past week Bruce Springsteen released the album<i> BORN TO RUN</i>. The actual date was August 25, 1975. I was a mere 12 years old and going into the 7th grade.<br />
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One day in September 1975 I was home sick from school and listening to the radio. Probably not interested in what was happening on "Ryan's Hope" or "All My Children". The radio station had an album give-a-way and if you were the 101 caller you would win. I dialed, and dialed, and dialed - rotary dialing - so you know I was determined. Busy, busy, busy until the phone rang and lo and behold I was the 101st caller (true story). They told me the album I won and I was bummed. I had never heard of the album or the singer, I thought I was going to win an Elton John album with the song "Rocket Man" on it. Oh well, I gave my address and thought maybe one of sisters would like the album.<br />
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None of my sisters wanted the album - they were too hip and into way cooler music like Cat Stevens, Genesis, and Emmy Lou Harris. So I was stuck with the album. I gave it a try. I slowly became obsessed with it and all things Springsteen.<br />
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In 1977 I started High School and <i>BORN TO RUN</i> was THE ALBUM! From that moment on it was played at every party and we all sang all the songs at the top of our lungs. It has probably become the anthem of my life with a couple of other Springsteen songs from other albums, "Rosalita", most songs from <i>Darkness on the Edge of Town </i>and <i>The River. </i>Actually any Springsteen song is my favorite with the exception of "Pink Cadillac". not sure why I just never liked it. Although I love "Cadillac Ranch."</div>
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Admittedly, I listen to a lot of music and am not picky. I still sing songs at the top of my lungs and with three children aged 18, 19, and 22 I feel that I am up on most current songs, songwriters, bands, etc.. I have seen my fair share of Taylor Swift Concerts over the years (my youngest is a girl) and my current running playlist consists of Imagine Dragons, Rachel Platten, Bruno Mars, and Walk the Moon. I even went to see O.A.R. in concert with my 22 year old son last weekend. I love musicals and have the entire Les Miz original London Cast recording in my iTunes library.<br />
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BUT nothing, and I mean nothing, can make me as happy as when I hear a song from Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band.Certain songs can bring me to a specific time and place circa 1977 - 1986 with some of the best people I have known in my life. I have always felt blessed to have had the friends I had in High School and in college and the shared experiences we had. I have seen many a Springsteen concert over the years and they have always been my favorite shows. Even in my adult life when I meet new people I know we will have a special bond if there is a shared love of all things Springsteen.<br />
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It may seem crazy and I promise it's not a creepy obsession it is simply a chance to experience joy! The simple joy that comes from feeling young, walkin in the sun, with the wind blowin in your hair....<br />
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<i>"Baby We Were Born to Run!"</i><br />
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<i>Magda</i><br />
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<i>P.S. Thank you Bruce Springsteen, Little Stevie, Big Man, Danny Federici, Max Weinberg, Garry Tallent, Roy Bittan, Patty Scialfa, and my Hometown Man Nils Lofgren</i><br />
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<i>Enjoy this video</i><br />
<i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IxuThNgl3YA" target="_blank">Born to Run </a></i><br />
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Would love to hear your favorite song, lyric or concert experience, especially if it's a Springsteen story.Magdalenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18363587041614129719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5447860936812927541.post-67387712484151960122015-08-16T14:15:00.001-04:002015-08-16T14:15:10.690-04:00Letting Go<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEb_cLO-wmPcsAmKI_FM1tqG7528drUqPBONlMdcYCHUZT3ofFGe_Aw7w_MR8RZ_dZvXz3Cy_0SWPkDYHtMqP2X5jdS8mwwFwGpNJYU7eF5PL4V3jPWJgl2xgdnyDcZZjBFZ8ElxnXOXJP/s1600/Dr.+Suess.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEb_cLO-wmPcsAmKI_FM1tqG7528drUqPBONlMdcYCHUZT3ofFGe_Aw7w_MR8RZ_dZvXz3Cy_0SWPkDYHtMqP2X5jdS8mwwFwGpNJYU7eF5PL4V3jPWJgl2xgdnyDcZZjBFZ8ElxnXOXJP/s200/Dr.+Suess.jpg" width="200" /></a>As parents we should be seasoned at letting go of a child. When the moment comes along it is so hard. We have had so much practice too - letting go of a hand so they can run to the playground, watching them get on the school bus for Kindergarten, sending them off to camp, handing them the keys to the car, and more. Every day of their lives we let them go a little bit so they can become the humans they are meant to be.<br />
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This season of letting go is especially hard. The season of sending a child off to college. It's a "milestone" and a "right of passage". We were all "let go" to venture out on our own and begin to be independent and find our own way. It is time for them to begin a new phase of their own journey.<br />
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It's an exciting and scary thing all wrapped up in one moment. No one feeling this more than the one leaving - it is their journey after all. We are spectators now. Engaged in the game only when the ball flies our way or when needed to sing the chorus of a song. </div>
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This beautiful written word by Kahlil Gibran sums it all up for me as my husband and I are getting ready to send our youngest, and only daughter, off to college. It never gets easier by the way. It was hard letting go of them all. Fear of the unknown I guess. Will they be safe? The biggest fear.<br />
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Enjoy these insightful and remarkable words.</div>
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Let the arrow find it's way and the archer never loose sight of it's flight.<br />
<br /><i>Magda</i></div>
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<table align="center" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: georgia; width: 650px;"><tbody>
<tr><td bgcolor="#ecead1" class="main" style="background-color: #ebe3d0; background-image: url(http://www.katsandogz.com/images/giback.gif); font-size: 14px; padding: 10px;" valign="top"><blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.234375); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.234375); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.300781); -webkit-text-size-adjust: none; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="head1" style="font-weight: bold;">On Children</span></span></span> by<i style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> Kahlil Gibran</i></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.234375); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.234375); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.300781); -webkit-text-size-adjust: none; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Your children are not your children.<br />They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.<br />They come through you but not from you,<br />And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.234375); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.234375); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.300781); -webkit-text-size-adjust: none; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">You may give them your love but not your thoughts,<br />For they have their own thoughts.<br />You may house their bodies but not their souls,<br />For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,<br />which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.<br />You may strive to be like them,<br />but seek not to make them like you.<br />For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.234375); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.234375); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.300781); -webkit-text-size-adjust: none; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">You are the bows from which your children<br />as living arrows are sent forth.<br />The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,<br />and He bends you with His might<br />that His arrows may go swift and far.<br />Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;<br />For even as He loves the arrow that flies,<br />so He loves also the bow that is stable.</span></span></blockquote>
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Magdalenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18363587041614129719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5447860936812927541.post-45771082347689065422015-08-11T17:40:00.000-04:002015-08-11T17:40:06.487-04:00Back to Writing - A Sentimental JourneyIt's hard sometimes, to return to something. It's especially hard when there is no real good reason you stopped. Are good reasons the same as excuses? I can never really seem to tell the difference between the two.<br />
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The best I can determine is sometimes life gets in the way. When this happens it seems that doing the things that could be considered leisure activities, including the things we love, take a back seat to the more important day-to-day things that come along. Since I last wrote on this blog two more children have gone through the college process, a new job has been started, and a number of dear friends have passed. Life has thrown us a couple of curve balls that even the best hitter in the league would whiff. There have been happy and sad times. Basically life has happened. I let life get in the way of doing many things that I love such as spending time with good friends, showing up for events, and writing, just to name a few.<br />
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To get back to writing I have taken a journey through previous posts, notebooks of half written essays and pieces of paper with topics and dates written on them. By pieces of paper I mean things such as receipts, church bulletins, napkins, Starbuck cup wraps, and meeting notes. All of these things have given me the thought that I wanted to write but have been too distracted by life to finish the task.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><a href="http://www.folkways.si.edu/leszek-kobylinski-with-jan-wojnar-and-his-ensemble/sentimental-journey-to-poland/world/music/album/smithsonian"><img border="0" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjK9BFSiqh7RWrjhyphenhyphenR9_2JlvM2p1V2cx1XA4wEOA-HJpW-cLoU3AE_dVD0Zjt-T0dnBDPPK3j_gONO55eZHorduJKxp0r7I6V-Cos78gQkFGH6mIfgdVRFqc-5LP3KmiVthsr9wPevpHh_/s200/Dad+Sentimental+Journey.jpg" width="200" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That's Dad looking dapper in red.<br />
The girl on the bottom right is my sister, Rosie.</td></tr>
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As life has been trying - being way too busy and feeling quite lost have been my predominant state of mind. I have spent much of the last two years thinking about, actually longing for, my parents, especially these past few months. What would they say? What advice would they give? What I wouldn't give just to be in their presence and feel safe.Just to hear their voices again.<br />
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Along came today and I re-realized a couple of things. <br />
1. My parents are around all the time.<br />
2. Life is Beautiful.<br />
3. Life is Difficult.<br />
4. Staying away from things you love is not good for the soul.<br />
5. And the best of all - I have my dad's voice on my phone in my iTunes Playlist.<br />
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What a great day! How lucky! My dad recorded a couple of albums and one is preserved through the Smithsonian and can be down loaded on iTunes. I kept thinking, if only I could hear my parent's voice it would give me such joy. Joy. The thing I lost the most.<br />
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Just like the gift of life itself I am listening to my dad's album as I write this post. His young, beautiful voice singing away. Listening to it is reminding me that my parent's journey was interrupted and life got hard. They both found their way back to the things they loved, things such as singing for my dad and writing and painting for my mom. They also both loved the beach and made time to get there. They had to persevere through difficult times and let things go that were out of their control. They both recreated themselves many times. They both did things they loved and did them with much Joy.<br />
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It has been quite a journey to get me to where I am now. Who knows what's in store. I do know that things will be what they will be and when the journey becomes too sentimental and the road too hard I can once again find comfort in the beautiful voice of my father while looking at one of my mother's paintings. In hopes of leading me to again find the joy in life.<br />
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<i>Hope you find your joy.</i><br />
<i>Magda</i><br />
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<i><a href="http://www.folkways.si.edu/leszek-kobylinski-with-jan-wojnar-and-his-ensemble/sentimental-journey-to-poland/world/music/album/smithsonian">http://www.folkways.si.edu/leszek-kobylinski-with-jan-wojnar-and-his-ensemble/sentimental-journey-to-poland/world/music/album/smithsonian</a></i><br />
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<a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/sentimental-journey-to-poland/id276149871">https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/sentimental-journey-to-poland/id276149871</a>Magdalenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18363587041614129719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5447860936812927541.post-28781834168388907282014-02-14T10:04:00.000-05:002014-02-14T10:29:01.988-05:00Snow Days, Facebook, and BuzzFeedAs a teacher "Snow Day" are two of my favorite words along with "Summer Vacation" and "Long Weekend." Don't misunderstand me I love being a teacher but I also love being at home.<br />
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This winter we have had our fair share of snow days. Win win for both students and teachers. <br />
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Since we all keep learning every day I wanted to share with you all some of the things I have learned while being at home.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAvtraIVUY_eskiUPqG797Jf78RuuU6d_qhpOyWSdiVP96OXR1F7J1WtXandSdhr8-2oOPnjD-l94Zr6ss1HWnEW5mRlS8zyNI6SFXe7leI8XfgqdSCj4MsN43N4SJE3vZwXur5oxpkKB0/s1600/Great+Dane+Pups.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAvtraIVUY_eskiUPqG797Jf78RuuU6d_qhpOyWSdiVP96OXR1F7J1WtXandSdhr8-2oOPnjD-l94Zr6ss1HWnEW5mRlS8zyNI6SFXe7leI8XfgqdSCj4MsN43N4SJE3vZwXur5oxpkKB0/s1600/Great+Dane+Pups.jpg" height="149" width="200" /></a>1. If I were a Rock Band I would be Led Zeppelin. Perennially searching for the "Stairway to Heaven". (Go to number 5 and see if I succeed)<br />
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2. If I were a dog I would be a Great Dane. #bigdoglookingforabiggercouch<br />
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3. The state I should be living in is West Virginia. No make that Virginia. No how about Minnesota. Really? one more time - Alaska. I gave up on this one. I wanted something with an urban feeling near the ocean. ( I couldn't decide if my favorite actor was Julia Roberts, Denzel Washington, or Harrison Ford. I also couldn't decide if the quality I liked most in a mate was thoughtful or generous. And what negative adjective most describes me? Am I obsessive, indulgent, distracted?)<br />
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4. If I were a Jane Austen Heroine I would be Fanny Price - interestingly enough this is the one character/movie/book I do not know/have not seen/or read giving me something new to do during the current snow day sabbatical.<br />
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5. When I die I will go to Limbo - Dante's First Circle of Death - to hang out with Plato and Aristotle. They sure are in for a surprise and I am positive my presence will cause them to question all rational thinking and actions all over again. So glad to be of service.<br />
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6. The career I should actually have is Humanitarian. Terrific, another low paying job shaping lives and minds. I am interested in hooking up with anyone who should be a CEO to fund my good deeds.<br />
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7. If I were a Downton Abbey character I would be Lord Grantham - Bad with money but loyal to the end. My thoughtful and generous husband would agree.<br />
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So what have we learned today class? <br />
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Clearly rather than work on taxes, organize the pantry, get laundry done, or grade mountains of papers Mrs. Mooers can waste time better than anyone else with a little help from her friends - Facebook and Buzzfeed.<br />
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Waiting for Spring Break.<br />
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<i>Magda</i><br />
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PS Happy Birthday to my beautiful sister Marie and Happy Valentine's Day to all.Magdalenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18363587041614129719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5447860936812927541.post-64289739473227729442014-01-26T10:39:00.000-05:002014-01-26T10:58:34.603-05:00Stuff Worth Keeping The past month has been a walk down memory lane. Unpacking boxes will do that to a person. Returning to our house after a six month stay in an apartment with minimal things while storing the remainder of our belongings - junk as we have been known to call it - boxes are being unopened and memories and precious moments are being recalled.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq3Ogz6aF4Ue-L2VJD3qZZQ9vGEIwWiJ5hvZdRO3DJkBL0nfqsc1oE9as1STmIDcONRBjhH4_o5vaLFkzxJzqV3l8FzC-_7dDy0UIe_t5-w9qTzeBdOs5Eg98CMBDNCWg0r9KQj5HRWHAY/s1600/Stephen+and+Cal+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq3Ogz6aF4Ue-L2VJD3qZZQ9vGEIwWiJ5hvZdRO3DJkBL0nfqsc1oE9as1STmIDcONRBjhH4_o5vaLFkzxJzqV3l8FzC-_7dDy0UIe_t5-w9qTzeBdOs5Eg98CMBDNCWg0r9KQj5HRWHAY/s1600/Stephen+and+Cal+copy.jpg" height="320" width="212" /></a>While unpacking a box labeled, "Stuff worth keeping and photographs,"(currently stored in the basement where all the boxes of junk are being stored until their proper place is revealed) this picture was uncovered. We have multiple copies of this picture for obvious reasons. The original being with our son who is the boy at the top of the picture and now 21.<br />
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This photo brought back the memory of a magical day when a mother and her 8 year old son went to Florida to watch their favorite baseball team and players during spring training. A trip given to them by their husband/father as a way to relax after the loss of a father/grandparent. <br />
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Living in the Washington, DC area, where at the time there was no baseball team, we followed the Baltimore Orioles. Having young children and two baseball playing boys it was a wonderful way to spend time together as a family. We all went - mom, dad, brothers, and sister. When the boys were younger they cheered for BJ Surhoff (or as they would pronounced it "Surfoff") and they booed when the Yankees came to town. As parents we regaled them with stories of Memorial Stadium, World Series wins, and Eddie Murray. BUT, at that time it was all about Cal. <br />
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When we went to spring training it was Cal's last season. We went hoping for a closer glimpse of him before he retired. It was a quick trip and the day we had tickets to the game there was a rain delay and Cal was no where to be found. Trying to hide disappointment and to make lemonade we stuck around the stadium and took it all in. We saw tents behind the stadium and thought the players probably had to stay close by for a reception of some kind. <br />
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"Good things come to those who wait," I remember telling my son. "Don't let this drizzle get in the way of our fun." As a young parent I was in the habit of trying to impart wisdom to our children - knowing that I had a small window when they actually thought I had something meaningful to say I threw a lot of stuff out there hoping some of it would stick. One of my frequent wisdom sayings was, "It doesn't matter what you do in life really - it matters how you do it and who you are when you're doing it." Cal made this one easy. He was one of the go to guys as an example of just how this looked.<br />
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Tragically, the game was called due to weather. My son wanted to throw in the towel and leave. Instead we stood in the drizzle near a chain link fence whilst owners, important guests, players, coaches, and their families started to arrive under the tent for a reception. Shamelessly we stood there hoping to catch people on their way in or out. My son with a clean baseball and a Sharpee. Myself with an umbrella and a hopeful attitude. <br />
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Then it happened. Someone we actually knew walked out from the reception and passed us. They stopped to say hello and invited us in. <br />
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"What? No we couldn't." I said, trying to be gracious.<br />
"Don't be silly," was the response. "It's perfectly fine. Let me introduce you around."<br />
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Still wearing my mom hat I bent down to my son and said, "There are a lot of important people here with their families. We will not bother them. Let's just take it all in and be happy we are here. AND if you are introduced to anyone please remember to call them Mr. and Mrs. and not by their first names even though you know who they are from TV and baseball games."<br />
"Yes mom," was his reply. Pretty sure he rolled his eyes as I stood up.<br />
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We walked in and the very first person my son saw was Cal Ripken. I have no idea what his face looked like when he saw Cal but I did see Cal's face and he burst out laughing! He waved my son over to his table. <br />
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What happened next I can remember as if it happened yesterday.<br />
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"Hi", he said. "My name's Cal."<br />
My son shook his hand and said, "Nice to meet you."<br />
Then he turned to me and said, "See mom I can call him Cal. You don't have to worry. He said it was okay."<br />
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The rest of the afternoon was incredible. Many players and coaches were there. They were gracious to me and my son as we tried to fit in as best we could.<br />
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There were other children there and as kids do when they get bored of grown up talk they started a game of tag. One boy went up to his dad and said, "You promised you would play with us." The dad did not disappoint his son. He played tag with the kids, my son included, and that's when this picture was taken. Just a couple of kids playing tag with a dad.<br />
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It got dark and it was time to go. We said our good byes and walked on air to the car.<br />
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On the way back home my son turned to me and said, "Mom, I always knew that Cal Ripken was a great baseball player but do you know what he really is? He is just a really fun dad."<br />
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Thanks Mr. Ripken for this memory. By example you taught my son and me a valuable lesson first hand. It really does not matter what you do as much as how you do it and who you are when you are doing it. <br />
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Definitely put in the right box - "Stuff worth keeping."<br />
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Back to unpacking.<br />
<i>Magda</i>Magdalenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18363587041614129719noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5447860936812927541.post-4379394452153543442013-12-31T19:09:00.001-05:002013-12-31T19:17:40.113-05:00Looking Back With Feet Pointed Forward<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAjQw-0y0aTPQ8meY4PaeznDss67vBlxYKGg7zRSX_f2u1g5CGTJyFKho-hJD8BKaQzStinxZRtDguFqHJvKHAWc2cyigzMt4E-lSal_vKUXZZc7T1aDcJy0IsjTHvq4FpDOYXb6gM9Foc/s1600/New-Year-Eve-Free-Printable.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAjQw-0y0aTPQ8meY4PaeznDss67vBlxYKGg7zRSX_f2u1g5CGTJyFKho-hJD8BKaQzStinxZRtDguFqHJvKHAWc2cyigzMt4E-lSal_vKUXZZc7T1aDcJy0IsjTHvq4FpDOYXb6gM9Foc/s400/New-Year-Eve-Free-Printable.jpg" width="318" /></a>New Years Eve. Three words that drum up all sorts of images and emotions. Champagne. Parties. Friends. Family. Reflections. Remembrances. Regrets. New Beginnings. Balls Dropping. Fireworks. Sadness. Gladness. Auld Lang Syne. And many more.<br />
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This year it's been a day of reflection.<br />
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January 2013 feels like a long time ago. The year has been been a busy one of which a lot was accomplished and a lot was left to be done. Not one to make New Year's Resolutions beyond trying to take advantage of every day and being a better person - truly this is not a stock Miss America answer for me - I have to laugh at all the things I know I did not get to in 2013. I did not eat more super foods, read more books, watch less TV, exercise more, eat fewer sweets, write more, paint any pieces of furniture, or knock anything off a bucket list (that I really don't have anyway so that's okay), the list of "not dones" is endless.<br />
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2013 was a year when our family lost a very good friend. Suddenly gone. The loss of this friend made all the things that didn't get done seem inconsequential. The song Auld Lang Syne, a Scottish song whose title translates to "times gone by" is about remembering friends from the past and not letting them be forgotten. This sentiment is an incredibly strong one this year.<br />
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My mother used to tell us to keep our feet pointed forward. The past is gone and the future unwritten. It is on the strength of friends and family passed and present that I find the strength to do as my mother said. It is with this in mind that the path towards 2014 is paved. Feet pointed forward while not forgetting. 2014 may be another year of bad eating and too much Real Housewives but it will also be a year full of gratitude for each day and being mindful to remember.<br />
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Happy New Year to all of you and yours.<br />
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Peace.<br />
<i>Magda</i>Magdalenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18363587041614129719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5447860936812927541.post-38936516691482836852013-12-29T16:31:00.003-05:002013-12-29T16:45:16.672-05:00The Big Picture<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It is true there are people in the world who are big picture people. I, for one, am not one of them. I am usually a day to day minute by minute person. This changed slightly when I had children. When I say slightly I mean it has changed slightly every day since our first child was born a little over 21 years ago.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The effect of this change has made me feel a little like this...</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUQBacRw22MH4gKlXv5NJuie6FdpUmYjTMFvwy07-BdWDHz4FVBjZIUYkA3B3U1Fkn7f-uB1dcY9JNPYjzTCg-84Ygp-1IgNupSl8ymKdA4smmUIo4h8Qz2pr3NhhXJh3mGIj-fPRn5iCo/s1600/Big+Picture.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUQBacRw22MH4gKlXv5NJuie6FdpUmYjTMFvwy07-BdWDHz4FVBjZIUYkA3B3U1Fkn7f-uB1dcY9JNPYjzTCg-84Ygp-1IgNupSl8ymKdA4smmUIo4h8Qz2pr3NhhXJh3mGIj-fPRn5iCo/s320/Big+Picture.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Truth be told what has really made me feel this way du jour is the college application process. To those of you with a high school senior sitting at home right now writing their college applications with a January 1st deadline you probably know exactly how this feels. To those of you who have high school seniors who are already done with their applications and have been accepted to their school of choice - Congratulations! Keep reading if you want to know how the other half lives. (plus your cartoon is probably prettier)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This is where the Big Picture Philosophy comes into play. I keep hearing, "You have to look at the Big Picture." That's it. The Big Picture. It's exhausting to someone like me - a die hard instant gratification eat desert first - type person. The Big Picture I see is having this child sitting on my couch come fall looking for the X-Box cord (which I have hidden until the applications are complete) leaving the shoes in the front hall and milk on the counter for the rest of my life! It's a grim paint-by-number gigantic picture that keeps me up at night.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My day-by-day optimistic self keeps me going and has me thinking, it will all get done. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">If I consider the Big Picture this child no more wants to be at home in the fall than to see me show up at school with cookies as a birthday celebration. Of course the applications will get done. After all the child has learned to use the potty, tie shoes, ride a bike, and drive a car. This will get figured out too. Hopefully before 11:59 January 1, 2014!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Cheers!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Magda</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>The cartoon was found on the website The Big Picture: Rethinking Dyslexia </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>It inspired me to write this post. Although my child does not have dyslexia many children do as do many grown ups. If you have experience with dyslexia in your family or know of another family that could use guidance please check out this website <a href="http://thebigpicturemovie.com/">http://thebigpicturemovie.com</a> or find them on Facebook <a href="https://www.facebook.com/TheBigPictureRethinkingDyslexia">https://www.facebook.com/TheBigPictureRethinkingDyslexia</a></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>Magdalenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18363587041614129719noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5447860936812927541.post-88625012462393762292013-12-08T11:39:00.002-05:002013-12-08T12:01:47.488-05:00Greatness: It's Within Us AllThere are leaders and then there are people who change the course of history for an entire nation. Heard this today on CBS Sunday Morning, "Nelson Mandela is the George Washington for the people of South Africa. He is the founder of their country." This statement took my breath away. Why this statement? Possibly because of the magnitude of it.<br />
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The lessons learned from the life of Nelson Mandela are too plentiful to sum up. Hopefully his life story has touched everyone in some way.<br />
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Raising children who are about to embark on their own journeys and strike their own paths has made the following most significant. These words are very powerful.<br />
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Let is all remember Greatness is within us all.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9eu-DUqAEyGi5BKFmxCN9Fb6wZfO1x-_pcTPyyiGQzv7jFLnwDPziRG3aluYZ1yrDmpw3qXK5hoczJDPGV8HlWmFVhSSJAYVbdQwM_zPDoKXvtqJB5cgPt2eWpKnGcvpWmVpRIXBTZKWk/s1600/Mandela.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9eu-DUqAEyGi5BKFmxCN9Fb6wZfO1x-_pcTPyyiGQzv7jFLnwDPziRG3aluYZ1yrDmpw3qXK5hoczJDPGV8HlWmFVhSSJAYVbdQwM_zPDoKXvtqJB5cgPt2eWpKnGcvpWmVpRIXBTZKWk/s640/Mandela.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
I found this posted on Facebook by The Purpose Fairy. Want to give credit where credit is due: http://www.purposefairy.com<br />
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Peace.<br />
<i>Magda</i>Magdalenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18363587041614129719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5447860936812927541.post-24153196947393775202013-11-20T19:26:00.000-05:002013-11-21T06:24:39.342-05:00When Eyes Are Watching<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhElnyw5isyNTLR17KsEFR09d_PEytv8FeYtFaozvvuTDcjkk_xd1dNZatW54-WO6Qsrtd5HZ3rvEjA1U-ar097g-gn9BNmPatPHEbWICA9aINRwOLOal-fh9PowTmvFkU3UzGo-Hn5IOun/s1600/Slide1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhElnyw5isyNTLR17KsEFR09d_PEytv8FeYtFaozvvuTDcjkk_xd1dNZatW54-WO6Qsrtd5HZ3rvEjA1U-ar097g-gn9BNmPatPHEbWICA9aINRwOLOal-fh9PowTmvFkU3UzGo-Hn5IOun/s200/Slide1.jpg" width="200" /></a>This year most of my friends and I turn 50. This means we were born in 1963, the year the unimaginable happened. We were too young to feel the impact of the assassination of John F. Kennedy but we, like so many, have a connection to the event. <br />
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The events of November 22, 1963 became part of our story. <br />
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"What year were you born?"<br />
"1963"<br />
"The year they killed Jack Kennedy."<br />
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We grew up learning about President Kennedy, his beautiful wife, and his children Caroline and John - This beautiful young family and the tragic events that changed their lives and the country forever. The images have been around our whole lives.<br />
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Admittedly, when I was growing up I did not realize how young Jacqueline Kennedy was when she was First Lady. I knew they were all young. He was the youngest President. She his young wife. Their children so young. <br />
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Jackie Kennedy was 31 when she became First Lady and 34 when JFK died. This revelation stunned me. It wasn't until I was 31, in 1994 the year Jacqueline Kennedy died, that the full impact of what she dealt with came into clear focus. Home with a two year old baby and a government working husband I started thinking about how all those young mothers must have felt in 1963. Looking at her. Watching her. Her heart broken. How composed she was.<br />
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When all eyes were watching she was able to stand tall, stay focused, keep her composure. How? Who knows - but she did. When faced with the unthinkable she was able to do the unimaginable. This has had an incredible impact on my life. So many years after those events I think to myself if she could get through those days with that much grace maybe I can find a way to try to handle things better. <br />
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We never know who will impact our lives or whose life we will effect. The world will never be watching me but my own three kids have and do everyday. Every day 22 pairs of eyes watch everything I do. I try to remember the example of Jackie Kennedy. Well, sometimes I forget but mostly I remember. <br />
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The 50th Anniversary of that Day in Dallas is a good time to stop and recommit to being mindful of our actions and reactions to events, to news, and to the daily dramas of life. It's a good day to remember.Magdalenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18363587041614129719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5447860936812927541.post-83897857264483252432013-11-19T06:29:00.003-05:002013-11-19T06:35:38.957-05:00May We Never Forget<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>continent, a new nation, conceived in</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE5XK8c0-elMatSY8pezylYKG4gtR_gpnKpL_X3iO4usKO7TjU_76nMcKXbRLYT4yBBwIVmraqljgD77N-PsXAY9DalFcBz8j1I73JzNoL-cAe51qCMEKBtg1weV_tJlh-XYNPXr4VVB2u/s1600/Lincoln.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: left;"><b><img border="0" height="144" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE5XK8c0-elMatSY8pezylYKG4gtR_gpnKpL_X3iO4usKO7TjU_76nMcKXbRLYT4yBBwIVmraqljgD77N-PsXAY9DalFcBz8j1I73JzNoL-cAe51qCMEKBtg1weV_tJlh-XYNPXr4VVB2u/s200/Lincoln.jpg" width="200" /></b></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate -- we can not consecrate -- we can not hallow -- this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us -- that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Abraham Lincoln</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>November 19, 1863</b></span></div>
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</span>Magdalenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18363587041614129719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5447860936812927541.post-60787403170653791012013-11-17T07:16:00.001-05:002013-11-17T08:18:16.287-05:00TimePassing of time. For the first time in four months I am returning to writing.<br />
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During the period of time since I last visited this blog time has gotten away from me. Life has been on an accelerated pace and there has not been enough time in the day to do all the things that needed to get done. My guess is everyone has felt this way at one time or another in their lives.<br />
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During the period of time since I last visited this blog I have moved, renovated a house, travelled back to Poland for a visit, started a full time job as a second grade teacher, helped (well tried to at least) my son apply to college, fed hungry swimmers, and tried to remember to feed my own family.<br />
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During the period of time since I last visited this blog I have barely had enough time to keep up with friends, remember important dates, get any exercise, watch tv, read a book, feed my family, write, you probably get the picture...<br />
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During the period of time since I last visited this blog I have read about a friend who chose to have preventative double mastectomy surgery because she was afraid she wouldn't have the gift of time. I read about how a brave mother who lost her entire family in a fire found a way to move forward, probably wishing to go back in time. I have looked at my own senior in high school son while on a college visit and wondered "Where has the time gone?"<br />
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During this time of year as people in our country prepare to give thanks and people around the world prepare to spend time with loved ones, friends, and family all hoping to have a good time I am hoping to remember to be thankful for the gift of time. I may not always use it wisely or remember to be present as it passes me by but at least for the time being I have it and am hoping to have more of it.<br />
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Time like love is a gift. Embrace it. Remember it. Be mindful of how it is used. Catch it when it gets away and enjoy it!<br />
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Thanks for taking the time to read.<br />
<i>Magda</i><br />
<br />Magdalenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18363587041614129719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5447860936812927541.post-70954827429451686712013-07-15T12:37:00.003-04:002013-07-15T13:02:34.710-04:00Amy the Unicorn<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY9EwC7nG9Tnl-cuK2ooM3yQT8kBKYpWyLcE0rIXNYhxKR2Ci-Q0XfHDFBHIUtadLtU0FLzvOBH2UzBiwu_okpoDjl8G5PVsTTndnjznzwezdNKKxrCTq-0F0Es3eix-hsFcJwJmZcSQKU/s1600/gumdrops.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY9EwC7nG9Tnl-cuK2ooM3yQT8kBKYpWyLcE0rIXNYhxKR2Ci-Q0XfHDFBHIUtadLtU0FLzvOBH2UzBiwu_okpoDjl8G5PVsTTndnjznzwezdNKKxrCTq-0F0Es3eix-hsFcJwJmZcSQKU/s1600/gumdrops.jpg" /></a>My sister-in-law sent me a video with one sentence, "I just loved this." Nothing else. No description of what it was, who was in it, etc. She has wonderful taste and is not someone who is constantly sending messages like this so I figured it would be worth watching. Time ran away from me and it took a couple of days to see the clip. In those days both my mother-in-law and my other sister-in-law also chimed in saying they loved the clip as well. These women all have wonderful taste (and I don't just write that to get favorite daughter-in-law status or brownie points, it is actually true). Their responses further enticed me to watch the clip.<br />
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The clip features Shawn Achor, a motivational speaker who has a great message and a wicked good sense of humor.<br />
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The clip has received 4,611,027 views on Ted.com. So don't just take my word for it. If you have the time click on the link below. Hopefully you will be glad you did.<br />
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<a href="http://www.ted.com/talks/shawn_achor_the_happy_secret_to_better_work.html">http://www.ted.com/talks/shawn_achor_the_happy_secret_to_better_work.html</a></div>
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Happy Monday,<br />
<i>Magda</i>Magdalenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18363587041614129719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5447860936812927541.post-38854465370546444942013-07-11T12:10:00.002-04:002013-07-11T12:10:58.047-04:00Reaction ActionLife isn't always about how we act but also about how we react to things. I find myself not engaging with people as quickly as I used to because I am thinking to myself if their comments or actions actually require or deserve a reaction or a response.<br />
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It seems like a daunting task really - but actions and reactions go hand in hand. Our reactions are also actions that we take. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinfx2vw0MeDQdEliWsCcaGZeT_V1DGpRDkMHmpPvs3zjyS_i52abrTCaRDdUdUShgociqP6v5YKIeuB1bCvaMHxCNhBAgrNNFnu8xPLlEjciGIKVxNgyiva2SEj_C6fUQJAYW5M6K1DBVE/s1600/choice.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="169" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinfx2vw0MeDQdEliWsCcaGZeT_V1DGpRDkMHmpPvs3zjyS_i52abrTCaRDdUdUShgociqP6v5YKIeuB1bCvaMHxCNhBAgrNNFnu8xPLlEjciGIKVxNgyiva2SEj_C6fUQJAYW5M6K1DBVE/s200/choice.jpg" width="200" /></a>When we choose to react to the person biting our head off or flicking us off on the road we are choosing to feed into their crazy. Avoiding the confrontation isn't wimpy it's smart. Some things are worth ignoring, thanks mom I finally figured THAT out! Not Reacting or reacting with silence is often a stronger response.</div>
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Reactions are our responses to things that affect us. They are and can be seen as a reflection of who we are and what we are feeling. Sometimes we let our reactions give a false picture of who we truly are and then spend time fretting about how we could have portrayed ourselves differently. I have found this is true when I am defensive in my response - this comes out especially if I am over tired.<br />
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Lately there has been much written about mindfulness. Choosing to respond rather than to react is an art that requires us to be mindful. The article below from Thin Difference seems to help put this in perspective.<br />
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<a href="http://www.thindifference.com/2013/03/07/a-mindful-difference-respond-vs-react/">http://www.thindifference.com/2013/03/07/a-mindful-difference-respond-vs-react/</a></div>
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Since I can't walk around and hand this out to every person who entices me to react in a way I wish I had not and until I successfully develop mindfulness I was thinking of printing a sign that I could flip out of my purse or pocket that simply says:<br />
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<i><span style="color: blue;"> "I am respectfully but deliberately </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="color: blue;">choosing not to react or respond to you."</span></i></div>
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Of course sometimes I really wish I could hand them a sign that says something completely different...but that sign I will keep in my mind.<br />
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Respectfully,<br />
<i>Magda</i><br />
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Magdalenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18363587041614129719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5447860936812927541.post-83972681437669340942013-06-26T13:32:00.000-04:002013-06-26T13:32:02.527-04:00Be Stronger than the TribeThere is one thing that keeps presenting itself to me time after time, Although it's nice to be part of a tribe at anytime the tribe might turn on you and send you, like an outcast, into the wild. Usually when you need your tribe the most.<br />
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It happens to people in their lives over and over again. You might think you are safe with a certain group of friends or with your colleagues at work but all of a sudden, out of no where the tribe attacks sending you on a downward spiral of self doubt and isolation. Why?, What did I do? I didn't mean it that way? And there you are feeling shunned, unappreciated, and alone.<br />
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We have seen this in literature, think <i>Scarlet Letter. </i>There was Hester Prynne, pregnant and alone, in a world of judgement and ridiculous Puritan beliefs. She was wronged and if you have read the book, which I highly recommend, you know it. She is stronger than the tribe. If you have not read the book or if you cannot get past Hawthorne's Old English style of writing (or is that Olde) then watch the movie <i>Easy A</i> with Emma Stone. It is a witty film about the perils of Tribe Life. It takes place in High School where bad Tribe Behavior is at its peak. It's dialogue is funny and The Tribe eats it in the end. In both book and movie the heroines stare down The Tribe. They stand up for themselves.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7ymyjOKjN-_nefD4ZHQ-M6q3EOzomfRhX0srsyx7_DqFf_UTEIqZfuORd-brYwazahz7M_aOrNzWkGmltWYn0Zpe3NJdkiYespzs6el-Twc3wMBbiQyN3vHVcGSVrWRu34jNfHQDFfeMu/s1600/matches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7ymyjOKjN-_nefD4ZHQ-M6q3EOzomfRhX0srsyx7_DqFf_UTEIqZfuORd-brYwazahz7M_aOrNzWkGmltWYn0Zpe3NJdkiYespzs6el-Twc3wMBbiQyN3vHVcGSVrWRu34jNfHQDFfeMu/s200/matches.jpg" width="200" /></a>The way to beat the Tribe. Learn to be comfortable in your own skin. Be true to your self. Be authentic. <br />
We cannot control Tribe mentality but we can control our own sense of self away from The Tribe. Look for a new Tribe. One less judgmental. One more forgiving. Be a Tribe of one for awhile. A renewed sense of self gives strength to stare down the people who are harmful in your life and helps to make way to find the ones that appreciate your talents and gifts.<br />
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Strength sometimes does not come in numbers but comes from within and from the truth of our own convictions.<br />
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Be good to yourselves.<br />
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<i>Magda</i><br />
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<i><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1282140/">http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1282140/</a></i>Magdalenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18363587041614129719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5447860936812927541.post-44104555753194385002013-06-07T07:05:00.000-04:002013-06-07T13:47:49.308-04:00The MiddleHave you ever watched the TV Show "The Middle" with Patricia Heaton? I watch it every now and then when my life slows down enough to allow me to sit still for 30 minutes. <br />
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On May 22nd all the stars aligned and I was able to catch the season finale titled, "The Graduation." The show stars Patricia Heaton (From Everybody Loves Ray) as the mom, Frankie. She is hysterical. In this episode in particular she is smack in the middle of trying to hold on to the things she thinks she can control and trying to let go of the things she can't. And really with kids you can't control much. <br />
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In this episode the oldest son is graduating from High School and at one point he and his mother get into a fight about the color of socks he is wearing. I have the where-with-all to call my 17 year old son into the room to watch with me.<br />
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Frankie (mom): "You cannot wear those white socks with your dress pants."<br />
Axl (son): "Yes I can and I am. You can't make me change them."<br />
Frankie: "Oh, yes I can and I will." At this point she hurdles herself on to her son's back as he is walking out the door, tackles him, and begins to strip off his shoes and socks.<br />
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I started laughing hysterically and looked over at my son who was shaking his head and smiling. (by the way I haven't seen him crack a smile in months) No words really needed to be said at that point because we both knew that we could have played out the same scene. The show was over and my son slowly got up off the couch, all 6'5" of him, and said, "Mom, I don't think you are so crazy to think you could tackle me and I probably won't be wearing any socks to graduation so you won't need to try."<br />
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Welcome to my life!<br />
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Happy Friday.<br />
<i>Magda</i><br />
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Here is the link to the episode if you find yourself with some extra time.<br />
<i><a href="http://beta.abc.go.com/shows/the-middle/episode-guide/episode-424-the-graduation">http://beta.abc.go.com/shows/the-middle/episode-guide/episode-424-the-graduation</a></i><br />
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<br />Magdalenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18363587041614129719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5447860936812927541.post-17007049459766093782013-05-17T10:22:00.000-04:002013-05-17T10:39:10.598-04:00Be Safe<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 17px;">It has been a busy spring where I have been spending more time writing and reading for school (more on that in a later post) and have had no time to write here. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 17px;">I have had time to keep up with what others are writing and sharing. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 17px;">This poem was shared on Mother's Day by my dear high school friend. It was written by the mother of another friend and sums up what believably all parents want to say to their children. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 17px;">I pass this along keeping in mind that so many are experiencing graduations, milestone birthdays, and summer adventures with their loved ones and that some, who have lost their battles with life ending diseases, wish they were still physically around to repeat this message every day.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>BE SAFE</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>By Helen Cabrera</b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: purple;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;" /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;">You’re feeling your oats.</span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>Graduation has made you heady.</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>Youth is conveyed by your smile.</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>The world is your oyster,</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>Celebrate your future.</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: purple;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;" /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;">But,</span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: purple;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;" /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;">Please be safe.</span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>Take time to make good decisions.</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>Fast turns can lead to disaster.</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>You do not have the right to crash.</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>Your body is a projection of me.</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>I am yours, you are mine.</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>Remember that.</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: purple;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;" /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;">When you tripped as a little child,</span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>I gathered you in my arms.</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>Wiping your tears,</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>I told you to be careful.</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>Now, I am telling you:</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: purple;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;" /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;">Be Safe.</span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: purple;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;" /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;">You are my legacy.</span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>You are what I leave when I leave.</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>Your future will make my past work.</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>Take care of that body,</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>Open that mind,</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>You are what I treasure.</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>Do not treat my treasure casually.</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: purple;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;" /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;">Do not party till no end.</span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>Do not push too hard on the pedal.</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>Do not compromise yourself,</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>Morally or financially.</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: purple;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;" /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;">Reaching maturity is a stretch.</span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>It must be done with patience.</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>It will be attained with much agony.</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>Choices to be made, must be made</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>To advance, but be cautious.</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>You are special,</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>You belong to me.</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: purple;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;" /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;">Take care of that body,</span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>Beware of pitfalls.</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>Go forward with joy,</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>Fear not.</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>Know my love will go with you.</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: purple;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;" /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;">Because,</span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>You know I love you.</b></span>Magdalenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18363587041614129719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5447860936812927541.post-26909952363717203212013-04-04T11:26:00.001-04:002013-04-04T11:43:59.781-04:00Sing Your SongThis question has been rattling around in my brain for awhile, "What is my purpose?"<br />
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Then the other day my daughter asked, "Why are we here?" "What is the purpose of this life?" I asked my husband, the closest thing to omnipotence I could find in a hurry, and his response was, "Who the (insert word that rhymes with duck) knows?"<br />
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I few moments later I walked into the living room and saw a pair of shoes lying on the couch (no joke), an empty yogurt container on the floor, and the TV on. After screaming down to my 17 year old to come and pick up after himself I swiftly turned to my daughter and said, "I think I am here for the sole purpose to nag your brother - and he is here, clearly, for the sole purpose to drive me crazy." Well at least we have each other.</div>
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The questions continue to rattle around in my brain. It's comforting to know that I am not alone with these questions. Everyone is asking them, right? </div>
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Everyone's life has a purpose. Our purpose is multi-layered and changes over time, as do we. That's what keeps life interesting. It's possible that we get stuck in thinking that our purpose has to be grand. It doesn't have to be and we don't have to know all the answers.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVwdk9J_a2QjjJU8x8RVqxlB4HKHA7UsAO7h1HSqLOsyCBSa6O-gaNrbH7qoi3glB3O8vSbO5MQNfLTp8z6Dn4wRKbGNAli6MIXmCpiQFWQLGU568tNaiDk1MEEC6caz98m4eKKOFNSuxm/s1600/A+bird+does+not+sing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVwdk9J_a2QjjJU8x8RVqxlB4HKHA7UsAO7h1HSqLOsyCBSa6O-gaNrbH7qoi3glB3O8vSbO5MQNfLTp8z6Dn4wRKbGNAli6MIXmCpiQFWQLGU568tNaiDk1MEEC6caz98m4eKKOFNSuxm/s200/A+bird+does+not+sing.jpg" width="200" /></a>"The bird does not sing because it has the answer, it sings because it has a song."</div>
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We each have a song and i has many verses. (I choose mine to be sung by Colm Wilkinson* because he could sing the phone book and move me into action) Everyone's song is different. Some songs are for the world to hear and some are for our ears only. And that's okay. The thing is to brave enough to go out and sing! </div>
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And maybe one day we will all be able to say to ourselves, "I am doing what I am supposed to be doing." </div>
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If you can think it,<br />
You can dream it.<br />
If you are willing to do the work,<br />
You can have it!<br />
Whatever IT may be...<br />
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Start Singing.<br /><i>Magda</i></div>
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*In case you don't know who Colm Wilkinson is <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qsYnhVITf9E">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qsYnhVITf9E</a></div>
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Magdalenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18363587041614129719noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5447860936812927541.post-91224905291827196022013-02-25T19:59:00.001-05:002013-02-25T19:59:22.263-05:00My Dance Card is FullWell, it's official, I am no longer the least bit "cool" in the eyes of my children. I admit this has probably been the case for quite some time. Not only am I not cool I am actually "really old" too. Their words not mine.<br />
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See over the course of the past couple of months my kids have been letting me know just how uncool and old I actually am. I have been told I must spell out everything when I text. In a recent text to my oldest son I wrote, "I love u". His reply, "Spell out yr words. Yr a big girl." I guess he's got the do as I say not as I do lesson down. My middle son was even more direct. He recently asked me to do something for him and my reply was, "Okee-Dokee." He was quick to tell me, "You should stop saying that." He was kind enough to add, "You should also never say, Wakey-Wakey Rise and Shine" or Oopsadaisies, either."<br />
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My daughter is a little more subtle. While hosting a let's get dressed together, make-up session and pre-dance dinner at our house she and her friends were playing music and dancing around. A fun song came on and I began singing. She walked into the kitchen looked at me and just shook her head. An "Ah NO" look came on her face - the one with the raised eyebrows and mouth to the side smirk. I awkwardly laughed it off and slunk into another room feeling frumpy, old, and out of place. I did pour myself a Margarita first and took it in the room with me - I haven't lost all sense of myself. In addition I am also no longer supposed to say, "My Dance Card is F<span id="goog_2072491468"></span><span id="goog_2072491469"></span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/"></a>ull", because no one knows what the heck that phrase means. No one says "smidge" any more, as in, "I'll just have a smidge of Ice Cream." It's also completely uncool for me to say "Dude". Apparently it makes me sound stupid.<br />
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I want to respect my children's wishes so I am considering tempering my language and actions. Their message really may be, "Please don't speak to us anymore at all but please do continue to do our laundry, make our meals, and drive us everywhere." It's so sad. I was convinced my kids would never get sick of me being around.<br />
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So the other day when my son asked me to do something for him I shook my head, gave him a mouth to the side smirk and said, "Sorry Dude - My Dance Card is Full", I then dropped my keys and with a quick, "Oopsidaisies", picked them up and was out the door. (Without even a smidge of worry about what he and his sister were going to make themselves for dinner.)<br />
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Watch this for more parenting fun.<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N_NspDWssIY">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N_NspDWssIY</a><br />
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<i>Magda</i>Magdalenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18363587041614129719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5447860936812927541.post-35780937766218936212013-02-03T10:23:00.003-05:002013-02-03T10:26:53.170-05:00Happy Birthday Norman Rockwell<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Today would have been Norman Rockwell's 119th Birthday. Now it's probable that Norman Rockwell would not have wanted to live to be 119 Years old but I believe it to be true that his spirit has never died.<br />
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Norman Rockwell portrayed life with affection and good humor. Many times I find myself saying, "Now that is a Norman Rockwell moment." Thanks to the iPhone I try to capture these moments whenever I can.<br />
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In Norman Rockwell's own words he "Never used a professional model." He captured every day life with every day people. He captured life's wonderfully funny moments and traditions. He captured important social issues of his time. I often wonder what would he capture in this new century. Life seemed so simple in his pictures. Is it still?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuY_GDAGbQlCqa12FwLDSSRBQ49WS-TGnWP_9tBS9s3EDUMzhyphenhyphenKlZxVDiJjsdDl3CdgUaPSXFmfLmY-kQL_4V80hZEjFPalrFG-LzSIN0cDAnCzCqsqWBWOMhbqHYoh3ifw18mzW17Guxb/s1600/Norman+Rockwell+Ruby+Bridges.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="128" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuY_GDAGbQlCqa12FwLDSSRBQ49WS-TGnWP_9tBS9s3EDUMzhyphenhyphenKlZxVDiJjsdDl3CdgUaPSXFmfLmY-kQL_4V80hZEjFPalrFG-LzSIN0cDAnCzCqsqWBWOMhbqHYoh3ifw18mzW17Guxb/s200/Norman+Rockwell+Ruby+Bridges.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
Norman Rockwell was brave enough to paint Ruby Bridges. Would he take on issues such as immigration or gun control? I wish he were around to answer this question. His quaint pictures were thought provoking. Simple but powerful messages.<br />
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Here are some links for more information on Normal Rockwell:<br />
/<a href="http://www.biography.com/people/norman-rockwell-37249">http://www.biography.com/people/norman-rockwell-37249</a><br />
<a href="http://www.nrm.org/">http://www.nrm.org/</a><br />
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Thank you Mr. Rockwell. I wish you had more time to paint all the pictures you wanted to paint.<br />
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<i>Magda</i><br />
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<br />Magdalenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18363587041614129719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5447860936812927541.post-1086731035858467842013-01-15T09:53:00.001-05:002013-01-15T09:55:03.266-05:00Make it a Happy New YearAt a time when most people are dropping the ball on their New Year's Resolutions I have to admit I am just getting started. Being a Last Minute Lucy I procrastinated on my list. The list has but one item on it and that is to be Happy!<br />
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There are no big happenings planned to achieve this goal. No changes in job, marital status, or dwelling. I welcome changes in body image or just body but am not putting all my happiness eggs in the basket of whether I can shed the extra twenty pounds that have stuck to my body like some extra adhesive super glue.<br />
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Instead the hope is that being happy lies within me and the small decisions that are made every day, in forgiving myself when I fall off the happiness wagon, and in finding an easier way to get back on track without letting others keep me off too long.<br />
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It could be all about awareness and being still long enough to not react in an unhappy way. The world is full of instants. Everything has to happen in an instant and immediately or something may be missed. What is missing is the time to process thoughts or develop long term plans. Sometimes magic moments are missed because too little time is spent thinking something through. It's hard to keep one's eyes wide open to see what's ahead of us if we don't have time to take it all in. And then there are other people who want to mess with your happiness. Don't give your power of being happy over to someone else. Most of how people behave or what they say is more about them then about you anyway. Don't let another persons behavior mess with your happiness.<br />
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Reverend James Martin, S.J. wrote in <i>America Magazine</i> that <i>"There are five things you can do to be happier."</i><br />
1. Be Kind.<br />
2. Relax a little bit more.<br />
3. Be a little bit more Grateful.<br />
4. Enjoy Nature More.<br />
5. Pray just a tiny bit more<br />
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What ever it takes to be happy choose it over the alternative. There are things that make us sad and it's hard to be happy when we are grieving or when other people are hell bent on making us miserable. It's important to find out what helps us during these times and return to ourselves. This is my resolution for a Happy New Year, this year and every year to come.<br />
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So here it is the one item on my Resolution List: Be Happy. If none of this works I can always watch <i>Caddyshack</i> or an episode of <i>Modern Family. </i>Nothing makes me happier than a good laugh!<br />
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<i>Magda</i>Magdalenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18363587041614129719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5447860936812927541.post-83886255803714755022012-12-18T07:15:00.000-05:002012-12-18T07:15:06.983-05:00Happy Birthday Mom<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC-dqEzMRxoLmIKKtXiuQeFMfCStAZXTH-LXdFQdDlC35Yik8aG_1NEGkCjBx2B8iOz3lZeTZTOxupX4neEw-58LdOYb1U0prO3hFoIEll0NTdfg25O51MCEVr2TOhIWvb3PKRf7KmpyY1/s1600/Young+mom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC-dqEzMRxoLmIKKtXiuQeFMfCStAZXTH-LXdFQdDlC35Yik8aG_1NEGkCjBx2B8iOz3lZeTZTOxupX4neEw-58LdOYb1U0prO3hFoIEll0NTdfg25O51MCEVr2TOhIWvb3PKRf7KmpyY1/s200/Young+mom.jpg" width="129" /></a>Today, on what would have been her 92nd birthday, I celebrate my mother. Yes I mourn her. I grieve her loss. Every day I thank God she was my mom.<br />
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My mother is my inspiration. She was a realist. She saw many things in her life. She saw pure joy and pure hatred. She was a true patriot and lived an authentic life. She wanted to be remembered for her choice to live life as a person who was loyal and supportive. She fought for justice, always took care of people, and our home was always open to our friends and to anyone who could not be with their own families - especially around the holidays.<br />
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She was brilliant. A gene, that sadly, I did not inherit. She loved to laugh. Something I did not see much when I was a teenager and I am confident my own teenage children know how that feels. She taught me to look at the big picture, a gift I try to work on every day.<br />
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In her early years she wanted to be a journalist and figured out a way to achieve her goal. At the end of World War II, right before the Communists took over Poland, she boarded a train by herself and left her beloved family and country to save her life and hope for a better tomorrow. Eventually she landed in the United States of America and gave us all the gift of Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness. It was decades before she was able to return to Poland - to the family and land she loved. She gave everything she had to her four daughters. How lucky we were.<br />
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At the end of my mom's life she had dementia. All of her gifts, among them writing, painting, broadcasting, sadly taken away from her. My hope was always that the awful memories of life in Nazi occupied Poland as well as the pain of not seeing her parents, sisters, and brother were also taken away.<br />
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In the simplicity of dementia my mother remained a warm, gracious, and loving woman who up and until the end of her life she taught me what it meant to be really, really brave.<br />
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As I do every day, but especially today, I celebrate the remarkable woman named Roza Fredericka Nowotarska Kobylinska and all the wonderful gifts she taught me.<br />
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Love you mom and Happy Birthday (Sto' Lat).<br />
<i>Magda</i>Magdalenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18363587041614129719noreply@blogger.com0