The G2 becomes the flagship camera in a professional line that continues to grow. The G2 raises the standard for rangefinder cameras with a four frame per second integrated motor drive, top shutter speeds of up to 1/6000 second, X sync at 1/200 second and adds an extended baseline autofocus system.The Carl Zeiss T lens line is now enhanced with the addition of the Carl Zeiss T Biogon 21mm f2.8 and the Planar 35mm f2.0. These lenses are wide-angle formulas achieving the lowest distortion and highest optical quality. The new GD-2 Multi-Function Data Back has a special feature that allows printing all technical details used throughout the roll on the first or first and second frames of the roll. Optionally, this same data may be printed between frames or turned off. Contax has also added the Contax TLA200 electronic TTL flash to the G series line. The TLA200 adds flash power and a zoom head for more versatile electronic flash photography.This Planar lens typifies lens design by Carl Zeiss. It realizes the highest delineation including clarity, real color reproduction, and rich gradation. This lens has an overwhelmingly expressive capability that no one but Carl Zeiss could create. The Planar T 45mm lens, is fast at f2 and truly an awesome lens, bringing about natural perspectives. The overwhelming expressive power of Carl Zeiss lenses can surpass the expectations of any photographer.
I also wrote a review. Heck, we all like a good review and now and then
No joke, when I was looking for CONTAX G2 35mm Rangefinder Camera Kit the other day, I was having one heck of a time finding it online. When I did finally find it, I made sure I bought it quickly. What follows is my review
I was impressed with CONTAX G2 35mm Rangefinder Camera Kit plain and simple. When I placed my order, I had in in my hands within 3 days and thats no joke. The key is looking for a seller with over a 100 feedback rating on Ebay. Ive even included an Ebay listing to CONTAX G2 35mm Rangefinder Camera Kit in this review to make it even easier on you.
Anyway, when it arrived, I opened it and was impressed with the solid packaging which insured CONTAX G2 35mm Rangefinder Camera Kit didnt arrive damaged in any way, shape, or form.
Overall, my experience was amazing. I hope this helps you make a solid buying decision.
Similar posts: kid soccer
- Mood:Very good
- Music:Heartbreak Hotel
Escape from it all with our 100% silk eye pillows in traditional Indian Sari design. Filled with flax seeds and scented with dried lavender that works as a mood tonic, antidepressant, sedative and detoxifier. A zipper opening at one end allows you to empty the contents, making the pillow hand-washable, refillable, and adjustable. The silk fabric is soft and cooling, while the shape of the pillow contours to your face adding gentle pressure and blocking out light, relieving tension and calming active muscles around the eyes. Used for deepening relaxation during Savasana, meditation and afternoon naps. Just surrender
I also wrote a review. Heck, we all like a good review and now and then
No joke, when I was looking for Barefoot Silk Eye Pillows Indian Sari Designs with Flax Seed Lavender the other day, I was having one heck of a time finding it online. When I did finally find it, I made sure I bought it quickly. What follows is my review
I was impressed with Barefoot Silk Eye Pillows Indian Sari Designs with Flax Seed Lavender plain and simple. When I placed my order, I had in in my hands within 3 days and thats no joke. The key is looking for a seller with over a 100 feedback rating on Ebay. Ive even included an Ebay listing to Barefoot Silk Eye Pillows Indian Sari Designs with Flax Seed Lavender in this review to make it even easier on you.
Anyway, when it arrived, I opened it and was impressed with the solid packaging which insured Barefoot Silk Eye Pillows Indian Sari Designs with Flax Seed Lavender didnt arrive damaged in any way, shape, or form.
Overall, my experience was amazing. I hope this helps you make a solid buying decision.
Similar posts: kid soccer
- Mood:Cry
- Music:Chage and Aska
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- Mood:Cry
- Music:Mai Kuraki
Just the other day, I was online looking for adidas Womens Microbounce+ 2008 Running Shoe.
In my search, I found a great description that I thought you might appreciate, so Im posting it here for you enjoy!
Description:
Where other running shoes merely cushion, these bounce. The adidas Microbounce+ 2008 running shoe provides enough lightweight, energy returning cushioning to make running feel almost effortless. Textile and synthetic upper. adiPRENE+ insert aids forefoot propulsion and efficiency. Bounce technology provides optimized energy return and step in comfort. adiWEAR outsole gives best durability in high wear areas.
In case you need an unbiased review, Im going to give you that as well
I was impressed with adidas Womens Microbounce+ 2008 Running Shoe plain and simple. When I placed my order, I had in in my hands within 3 days and thats no joke. The key is looking for a seller with over a 100 feedback rating on Ebay. Ive even included an Ebay listing to adidas Womens Microbounce+ 2008 Running Shoe in this review to make it even easier on you.
Anyway, when it arrived, I opened it and was impressed with the solid packaging which insured adidas Womens Microbounce+ 2008 Running Shoe didnt arrive damaged in any way, shape, or form.
Overall, my experience was amazing. I hope this helps you make a solid buying decision.
Ok, by now, you may be looking for a place to buy it online.
Similar posts: kid soccer
- Mood:Good
- Music:Kumi Koda
Exchanging double kisses is not only standard in fashion circles, it's a sign of sisterhood (or brotherhood, depending). It's like a secret handshake among best friends. Nordstrom's Fall Designer Preview reminded me yet again of this, so I thought I'd provide a tutorial. Before your video lesson, it's important to know that French, Italian, Armenian, and other Mediterranean cultures do double kisses even outside of fashion events. And, unless you've been doing it since adolescence, it's hard not to fear bumping heads with your kisser. My advice is not to think too hard about it and let nature guide you. But first watch the video for specifics.
Similar posts: kid soccer
- Mood:More emotions
- Music:Sukiyaki
Throughout my childhood, I endured a great amount of physical pain. My very first operation was a rhizotomy. The purpose of that operation was to improve my posture, allowing me to sit up straight and to relieve the tightness in my leg muscles, improving plasticity. For this procedure, a surgeon makes an incision approximately six inches long over the lower area of the spinal chord. Next the nerves in the chord that causes the muscles to tighten are found and cut.
Arriving at Children’s Hospital early in the morning, I really had no idea what I was in for except a lot of pain. The hospital was cold and silent, so silent that if at any time a pin dropped to the floor, the noise could have woken the entire hospital.
From the entryway my family and I went into a giant elevator that would take us to the pre-operating room. When we arrived at our destination, we opened the brown wooden door to a world of bright colors, toys, TV, and a very, very comfortable waterbed. I remember being let down from my wheelchair, playing with the toys for a while, then going over to the nice comfortable waterbed and lying down. It was like home, but not exactly home. It was still home-like, if you know what I mean. I recall a nurse calling for me, “Brandon Ryan.” Keep in mind that I was still extremely young (six or seven years old), so I really had to go with the flow of things.
My dad picked me up and put me back into my larger-than-life wheelchair, and then we were off, following the nurse into a room that wasn’t as colorful as the room we had been in before. I remember the nurse saying to me, “I’m going to prick your finger, is that ok?” I remember nodding my head, trying not to show the fact that my heart was in my stomach.
Next, I sensed rubbing alcohol living up to its name, as the nurse applied it to my finger. I glanced at the needle the nurse had with her. As my eyes fixed onto it she said, “Oh don’t worry, it’s not a big needle. It’s just a small one,” as if that offered me any comfort.
The next thing I knew, my mom was covering my eyes saying, “Don’t look!” My entire body quivered because I knew that the “small needle” was getting closer to my finger. Then the nurse said, “OK; on the count of three. Ready?” I shook my head forcefully. The nurse counted aloud, “One, Two, Three.” Poke!
As the needle jabbed my skin, my body convulsed from the feeling. A few moments later my mom removed her hands from my eyes. The nurse used a small cotton ball to stop the bleeding and placed a bandage on my finger.
I went back to the bright-colored playroom to sit with my family, waiting for the time when I would have to be strong. I felt like I had to become a man faster than any boy. Before I knew it, my doctor’s assistant came in to get me. While his exact words do not come to mind, I understood that the time had arrived.
My family accompanied me to a different room with a single hospital bed and dim ambient lighting. The same nurse who had poked my finger (with the “small” needle) instructed me to get up on the bed. She gave me an ugly white hospital gown (I kid you not; it was ugly. Not that it matters, honestly). My mom helped me put the gown on.
Then the nurse came back, telling me to take some medicine that would “help me relax.” I don’t remember exactly how the medicine tasted, but I’m sure it was gross. I lay down a bit, with only the operation on my mind, not really knowing how much pain waited to test my endurance. All the pondering must have swept the remaining time away, because before I knew it, the time had finally come.
The nurse entered the room once again. This time she raised the sidebars on the hospital bed, almost trapping me inside. My feet were wrapped in blankets. I was wheeled down a series of hallways. And during those moments, what sticks out in my mind most is lying in that hospital bed, wailing, crying loudly as I waited outside of the operating room (OR).
Everyone was waiting for the surgeons, Dr. Hellbush and his team, to finish the preparations. For some reason—maybe it was the medicine—all that I remember is someone saying, “Brandon, calm down. Everything will be okay.” Nonetheless, I cried. I cried until I couldn’t cry anymore. When the operating room was ready I was wheeled in, and immediately I asked a nurse standing next to me, “Where is my doctor?” “He’ll be here soon,” she reassured. A few short minutes later, I heard a voice say, “Hi Brandon.” As I slowly rolled my head to the left, I realized that it was Dr. Esposito. I must admit, at ten years old, hearing a calming voice like his really did slow my anxious racing heart. Another nurse stood over me, holding an oxygen mask. As she placed the mask over my nose and mouth, she explained, “This will help you go to sleep.” Next, she instructed, “Count back from a hundred.” And as I did what she directed me to, I was out cold!
The operation lasted about eight hours. Of course, I was asleep for the entire duration. However, I awoke to a nurse saying, “Brandon, wake up. Brandon, can you hear me?” Her questions were rather annoying because my throat had dried to the extent that I could barely speak, let alone reply intelligently. After not eating anything for twenty-four hours, the feeling wasn’t very pleasant. Upon fully awakening, I remember being moved to ICU (The Intensive Care Unit). Once in the room, I looked to my right to see a newborn smile at me.
My dad sat next to my bed, as I lay there motionless, afraid to move. Even the slightest gesture roused my nervous system to that deep six-inch cut on my back. I don’t remember much about being in the ICU except for being tired, hungry, and eager to move to my own room where I could possibly get some rest. My dad told me that I should consider taking a nap, and only a few moments later my eye lids closed for what seemed to be several hours but was really only about five minutes. Upon waking up my dad mentioned something about eating a steak. I must say, that did sound delightful.
I knew that my hopes for my own room were fulfilled when we went back into the enormous elevator. Arriving on the correct floor, we were led down several hallways with grotesque green carpet, down another straight hallway, ending with an extremely large door, all to get to my room. As we entered, I observed how the room was wide open. It was furnished with a small TV attached near the summit of two walls, in the front corner of the room.
As I lay there, my mom opened the curtains. The sun broke through as if it had been held captive by darkness, and my eyes made their adjustments. I glanced out the window, and my gaze fixed on the most amazing store in a young kid’s life, Toys R’ US. Yes, that’s right. That was my favorite store in the whole wide world, and nothing could compare. There in that room more time elapsed (I’m not sure exactly how long). I waited, again not knowing why. Little did I know, I was waiting to encounter a physical sensation I would never forget.
The hospital bed was elevated so that I was sat up slightly. Sitting all the way upright would have increased my senses’ awareness of the cuts and changes made during the operation, which would have been too painful for me to bear. But soon I would be asked to move.
Dr Esposito came into the room and said something to the effect of, “Its time we sit you up out of bed.” That shocked me. I had just gotten out of my first operation; I was still tired and cranky because my stomach was empty; was I expected to endure more? The only thing I was allowed to consume was perhaps some 7-Up or some ice chips. But with those options, and me in my situation, I wanted every ounce I could get. I never knew 7-Up could taste so good. With my throat as dry as it was, all I wanted to do was down the entire can at once; but wisely and carefully my mom gave me small sips, one at a time. The idea of my doctor wanting to sit me up in bed so soon was clearly outrageous, at least in my mind. One would think that I needed some down time from mobility, but that wasn’t the case.
Honestly, I do not remember each person involved in moving me off and to the side of my hospital bed. I do recall it taking several nurses plus my mom and dad. The entire process hurt. All it really required was scooting me to the side of my bed and then hanging my legs over the edge.
Do you remember the fear that I described having upon going into the operation (until the very last second)? That same terrible fear came rushing over me again. It was as if I had a bounty on my head or I was on death row, something life threatening. A lump developed in my throat and my eyes started stinging as the tears formed. Then it happened. A nurse elevated my bed to the point that I was sitting upright. I could feel the insigne (area where the operation had been performed) stretch with every second of movement.
Next in the procession was a nurse who cradled her arm under mine, slowly rotating me to my right. I wore agony on my face with every passing second. Only moments later several nurses came in. Then a few more came. And before I could catch my breath, nurses were pulling me up until I sat completely straight. The tears burst from behind my eyes like a scene from Water World with Kevin Costner. I began to scream as loud as a metal-band vocalist.
I remember grabbing the nurses’ white lab coats, still screaming and crying my heart out, trying to expel the pain of the experience. The part that hurt most was when all the nurses finally managed to bring my legs over the edge. As my legs hung over, the pain intensified with each breath. It felt like having several knives dig into my back with no intention of stopping. I don’t remember much about the moments that followed that vivid and overwhelming scene.
Similar posts: kid soccer
- Mood:More emotions
- Music:Sukiyaki
If you are like me, you need a little bit on information before making a buying decision. Heres a description of Fulton Marine Trailer Winch 1500 Lb. Capacity for you
For safer, easier boat loading and unloading. Zinc finish provides excellent corrosion resistance in all environments. Gears are high carbon steel for superb strength and long-term durability. Stamped carbon steel frame, full-length drum bearings, oil-impregnated shaft bushing, and comfort grip handle. Line Pull (lbs.): 1,500, Speeds: 1, Gear Ratio: 4.1:1, Handle Length (in.): 8, Braking: Automatic, Rope Type: Not Included, Strap: Not Included, Drum Capacity Wire Rope (ft.): 20ft. of 5/16in., Drum Capacity Strap (ft.): 20ft. x 2in., Ratchet Type: Two-way
Im also including a personal review here
In this review of Fulton Marine Trailer Winch 1500 Lb. Capacity, Im going to show you both the good and the bad. After all, whats a review without some honesty, right? First, I have to tell you upfront that Fulton Marine Trailer Winch 1500 Lb. Capacity is my favorite choice. Sure, theres other products in the same class, but frankly, none of them as good (in terms of quality). I do have to say this though some other products may be better, but based on quality and price, Fulton Marine Trailer Winch 1500 Lb. Capacity is the clear winner.
And lastly, if you would rather buy Fulton Marine Trailer Winch 1500 Lb. Capacity from Amazon.
Similar posts: kid soccer
- Mood:Cry
- Music:Ami Suzuki
Almost every doctor who deals with child or adults with Attention Deficit Disorder will agree that martial arts, if taught correctly, will help kid's or adults with ADD/ADHD, but why?
Well first any parent who has ever talked with me about this problem knows that I am apposed to drug use unless the child's safety is at risk. Drugs are a band aid solution at best. So, why does martial arts training work? Well it is a combination of exercise (aerobic) and having to focus or concentrate on what you are doing. What his means is that lung capacity and focus have a direct relationship.
It has been show that intelligence can be increased in any person, if the proper learning steps are taken. Unfortunately school in the traditional sense will not accomplish this. If you look at history you will see many examples of this phenomenon in action. Albert Einstein is one such example. As a child he was considered to be mentally retarded, horrible in math, and a waste of teaching resources. So what happened? How can I help my child to become an Einstein or can i?
Now I am not saying here that martial arts alone will turn an ADHD child into Einstien, but it can be one giant step toward the goal of curing the problem. Back when I was in grade school the average class size was 30. One teacher handled the duties day in and day out. In this class there was one or two very smart children, and there was always one who was looking at failing the grade each year. Everyone else fell into the 'average' category.
Currently researchers are looking for the reason that ADHD is on the rise in children in North America. They are looking at environmental factors as well as food etc. But they are missing one very important item, that is lifestyle! Today children are far more sedimentary. They play video games, (which does stimulate the mind) and watch TV (a huge waste of time). They do not however play the physical games that I did as a child. Now I know what some of you are thinking, your child plays soccer, hockey, karate and other activities but is still struggling in school. The reason is simple, the physical and mental must be put together in a proper sequence to see a result.
In the martial arts, and again I must say if taught by a professional martial arts instructor, the physical and mental are combined together, then we see growth in the child's mental capabilities.
Now here is an interesting experiment you can do with your child. If you have a swimming pool at home or access to one, this summer play this underwater game with your child. Take a golf ball or any other item that will sink to the bottom. Play a game to retrieve this ball from the bottom of the pool. Work at having your child swim underwater for longer and longer periods of time. This will very quickly increase your child's lung capacity. Retrieving the ball, as a game will also engage the mind. When the game is finished sit down and do some mental activity with your child. Anything, like a board game, reading etc. Over time you will see an increase in your child's focus during normal everyday activities.
Try this for July and August, you will be amazed at the difference in September.
In part 2 of this article I will explain more as to how this works. In the mean time parents, pay attention to how you breath when you are focusing to accomplish a task. Look for changes in your breathing pattern.
Similar posts: kid soccer
- Mood:Good
- Music:Chage and Aska
I've been thinking about the importance of choice of attitude in our lives. I have been working with a couple of family members on this very thing lately, and as a result have looked inside myself and discovered that I want to change! There are so many different areas in my life where I could choose to have a much more positive attitude.
Self improvement is so hard to measure which can be really frustrating, and the result is a bad attitude because you can't "see" and don't "know" if you are improving. But, I am not going to focus on measurement, instead, I am hoping that by being more aware, and viewing my attitude in all situations, as a choice, that I really will improve!
Viktor Frankl's 1946 book Man's Search for Meaning chronicles his experiences as a concentration camp inmate and describes his psychotherapeutic method of finding a reason to live. According to Frankl, the book intends to answer the question "How was everyday life in a concentration camp reflected in the mind of the average prisoner?"
Frankl identifies three psychological reactions experienced by all inmates to one degree or another: (1) shock during the initial admission phase to the camp, (2) apathy after becoming accustomed to camp existence, in which the inmate values only that pressure on the mind is released, mental health can be endangered. Frankl uses the analogy of a diver suddenly released from his pressure chamber.
He recounts the story of a decent friend who became immediately obsessed with dispensing the same violence in judgment of his abusers that they had inflicted on him. Upon returning home, the prisoners had to struggle with two fundamental experiences which could also damage their mental health.
The first is bitterness at the lack of responsiveness of the world outside—a “superficiality and lack of feeling...so disgusting that one finally felt like creeping into a hole and neither hearing nor seeing human being any more”
(113). Worse was disillusionment, which was the discovery that suffering does not end, that the longed-for happiness will not come. This was the experience of those who—like Frankl—returned home to discover that no one awaited them. The hope which has sustained them throughout the camp was now gone. Frankl cites this experience as the most difficult to overcome.
And now, one of my most favorite quotes...
"We who lived in concentration camps can remember the men who walked through the huts comforting others, giving away their last piece of bread. They may have been few in number, but they offer sufficient proof that everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way.
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- Mood:Good
- Music:Sukiyaki
I cant tell you how much I enjoy my ATTWOOD UNIVERSAL FIT FROSTED GLOBE ALL ROUND LIGHTSHeight 24. I got it off Ebay and it was by far the best price anywhere on the internet for ATTWOOD UNIVERSAL FIT FROSTED GLOBE ALL ROUND LIGHTSHeight 24. Ebay is a great place to shop, merchants are held to their word and rated by previous buyers, providing much better service than you are going get a retail store. Shipping was fast it was and the whole deal was easy peasy!
Here is some more info on ATTWOOD UNIVERSAL FIT FROSTED GLOBE ALL ROUND LIGHTSHeight 24 For boats to 39.4 (12 meters). 2-mile, 360 degree visibility. Redesigned socket and globe. The new socket uses a standardized, wedge-base #906 automotive bulb that is commonly available in marine, auto, and convenience stores. Efficient 8 watt bulb produces high output and minimal heat. Matches existing pole light bases. Universal fit with locking collar.
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- Mood:More emotions
- Music:Heartbreak Hotel
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- Mood:Very good
- Music:Chage and Aska
I've been thinking about the importance of choice of attitude in our lives. I have been working with a couple of family members on this very thing lately, and as a result have looked inside myself and discovered that I want to change! There are so many different areas in my life where I could choose to have a much more positive attitude.
Self improvement is so hard to measure which can be really frustrating, and the result is a bad attitude because you can't "see" and don't "know" if you are improving. But, I am not going to focus on measurement, instead, I am hoping that by being more aware, and viewing my attitude in all situations, as a choice, that I really will improve!
Viktor Frankl's 1946 book Man's Search for Meaning chronicles his experiences as a concentration camp inmate and describes his psychotherapeutic method of finding a reason to live. According to Frankl, the book intends to answer the question "How was everyday life in a concentration camp reflected in the mind of the average prisoner?"
Frankl identifies three psychological reactions experienced by all inmates to one degree or another: (1) shock during the initial admission phase to the camp, (2) apathy after becoming accustomed to camp existence, in which the inmate values only that pressure on the mind is released, mental health can be endangered. Frankl uses the analogy of a diver suddenly released from his pressure chamber.
He recounts the story of a decent friend who became immediately obsessed with dispensing the same violence in judgment of his abusers that they had inflicted on him. Upon returning home, the prisoners had to struggle with two fundamental experiences which could also damage their mental health.
The first is bitterness at the lack of responsiveness of the world outside—a “superficiality and lack of feeling...so disgusting that one finally felt like creeping into a hole and neither hearing nor seeing human being any more”
(113). Worse was disillusionment, which was the discovery that suffering does not end, that the longed-for happiness will not come. This was the experience of those who—like Frankl—returned home to discover that no one awaited them. The hope which has sustained them throughout the camp was now gone. Frankl cites this experience as the most difficult to overcome.
And now, one of my most favorite quotes...
"We who lived in concentration camps can remember the men who walked through the huts comforting others, giving away their last piece of bread. They may have been few in number, but they offer sufficient proof that everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way.
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- Mood:Very good
- Music:Utada Hikaru
You see, on Saturday, May 31st, I received a letter from Uncle Sam informing me that I should have received my stimulation (in the form of a US Treasury 2008 Economic Stimulation check) the day BEFORE the letter arrived at the LATEST!!!
Lets seethe letter came before the check although, according to this important IRS looking letter, the check was supposed to arrive (days or weeks) beforehand and the letter was then supposed to arrive to make sure I got it (and make sure I hadnt thrown it away). Too funny.
Hhhmmm, nope, I thought, this definitely couldnt be a hoax; even spammers and identity thieves dont goof like that. Thats just too easy. Yes, this had to be the real deal! Our government was hard at work and just didnt get it rightagain. They dangled the carrot then took it away. Or maybe they just tripped and dropped it.
Im not too surprised though. I wonder how much they by goofing. Lets see. Suppose even 1 million Americans got their letter first and wondered why their Economic Stimulus check hadnt arrived as scheduled. They called the IRS to ask. Phone bill, minutes used, time on hold, tax on the call, work time lost, etc. The phone companies (read: big business) and our government wins. The consumer loses. OK, so a portion of my check would have gone right back to big business (had I called) and, through our tax system, the money would go right back to Uncle Sam. Now suppose this happens monthly. At least twelve times as many Americans pick up the phone. My economics is rusty...vicious cycle...brutal...whatever.
Speaking of big business and the 2008 Economic Stimulus check, lets take a look at another scenario I considered as I tore open the envelope. This one comes courtesy of our Veep, Dick Cheney, and Prez, W. Remember them?
Lets set the scene. How are gas prices these days? Oh yeah, they are at an all time high. Keep that in mind and follow me here
VP - Hey W, I got an idea. Lets try to salvage our approval rating and make friendly with our overseas oil buddies at the same time by giving everyone in America some *cough* free money. We can even tell them they can spend it any way they want!
Prez Free money? Are we allowed to do that? How come no Prez has ever done that before me? Isnt that what the whole tax and tax refund thing is supposed to do? Ill just ask Congress tooopps, cant do that any more. Go ahead, Dick.
VP OK, Ill make this simple for you to follow. You know all those gas and oil companies we own and that we will be returning to in a few months? And all of our oil buddies overseas? Well, if we raise the crap out of gas prices and then give Americans free money to spend how ever they want, they will HAVE to use it on gas. Americans are in debt, they arent smart enough to carpool, they are too lazy to ride their bikes or walk and too smarmy to use public transportation. They love big, fat American gas guzzling SUVs and that means more money for us. Get it?
Prez Good idea, buddy, I knew you hired me for a reason. We are about to move out of this ugly white house (you know, I always hated that round-ish office that was supposed to be mineI just couldnt figure out where to sit without getting dizzy so I never used it), I dont think Ill be getting top dollar on the speakers circuit like the idiot from Arkansas and it will be a few years before the Twins run for office
OK, get my point?
Maybe Im being a bit harsh. (Ill admit that I have been known to notice glasses that are half empty sometimes.) Maybe Americans will receive their checks and spend the money on goods and services that will help OUR economy or improve their lives and the well-being of those less fortunate. Perhaps they will invest the money properly and save for a better future. Maybe a larger portion than ever before will donate to a charity. Maybe people will buy mosquito nets to help cure disease. All the possibilities.wow!
Who knows, Im tired and need to get some sleep. Maybe Ill write more later.
By the way, I thought Id let you know my little check came on the heels of having to write a big check to the plumber to fix a leak in my house. It came on the heels of my having to write an even bigger one to a boat electrician to fix wiring damage caused by a freakin muskrat who decided to feast on marine electronics. And it came on the heels of my receiving a note from the credit card company saying that they were sorry for having credited my account too much last month and they were going to have to bill me more this month. Hows that for home ownership, conspicuous consumption and credit buying? Its madness, I say. Its 100% American.
Anyway, I think Ill just deposit my check in the bank (where it will earn a meager portion of one percent interest) until I figure out how best to spend it.
Ill need to stop for gas first
Bye.
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- Mood:Very good
- Music:Kumi Koda
Katie and I returned last night from an incredible 2 days at the national game park. We saw lots of animals, including a billion birds of all shapes colors, 8 elephant, 7 rhinos, a hyena, lots of impala, wilderbeast, tons of zebra, 10 or so giraffe (one that let us watch him 10 yards away for about 20 min), buffalo galore, nyalas, baboons, and monkeys. Katie will surely add to this list and share some of our adventure (and pictures) in a later post. But in short, Katie got to see her 1st elephant in the wild and I couldn't be happier about that!
I also wanted to quickly write and thank you for praying. I left on our little "holiday" feeling quite ill, but have returned MUCH better, despite my lack of sleep because of early morning game drives - hoping to catch animals before they go into hiding for the day. Thanks for all of you that were praying for my recovery. THANK YOU!
In other sadder news.... it is very different driving on these roads here. People stand on the side of the road often, trying to enthusiastically wave down rides. The scariest part is when we see kids playing on the side of their interstate highways hoping for a ride (picture children playing on I-95). South Africa is now considered the most dangerous place to drive in the world, when looking at fatalities and chances of being in a fatal accident. On our drive up the N2, we passed one of these scenes, with the child just having passed away after being struck by a vehicle. We saw the immediately after.
While we don't know this child, or their family, or the driver - it was traumatic. Katie and I discussed at length whether to share this news. In the end, we decided that we committed to blogging about our trip and it has certainly changed the tone of our travels these past few days, as Katie and I both have wrestled with how things like that can happen in our world.
Death is such a big part of life here. Tragically so. While death is always difficult, regardless of where you are in the world, it engulfs southern Africa. Tents fill the landscape everywhere you look here. They go up Thursday for a Saturday or Sunday funeral, then move on to the next house in the town in preparation for the next service. On our drive from the game park, we passed a VERY tiny town and saw 8 tents for funerals. Life is different here because death is a big part of life.
For example, we were out visiting a traditional Zulu community in a rural part of Port Shepstone last week with a pastor and his wife. A few of the leaders of the orphan care project were trying to plan an event to raise AIDS awareness in the community. As they tried to find a date, they were struggling about which day of the week to hold the event; during the week, those that work have influence on their families couldn't be there because they'd have to miss work (and their income for the day) to come. Cannot do Saturdays or Sundays because the funerals are then.
I've heard this dilemma on all my trips to this part of the world. I distinctly remember talking to one woman in Zim that said, "On Saturdays Sundays, that's when all the funerals are, so people can't come to events; not because they don't want to, but it's life...we must go to these funerals."
The conversation in that Zulu community we visited last week ended with a decision to think about it. I'm still thinking about what's best and have reached no conclusions. I imagine the leaders are the same.
Our thoughts linger to Zimbabwe, as well, as our time here wraps up. Death is now very much part of life. In 1990, the life expectancy in Zimbabwe was 61 years old. It is now, just 18 years later, only 34 - the lowest in the world. I am only 5.5 years away from meeting the life expectancy age if I lived in Zimbabwe. Over 90% of the people are literate and they are known all over Africa as having one of the best education systems in the world. How can this be true and the following be true: 500 people will die TODAY in Zim because of AIDS related illnesses. The HIV infection rate among pregnant women now stands at just under 35%.
Why am I rambling on about this? Because it consumes life here and I cannot adequately share the way that changes your experience. I cannot possibly communicate the life engulfing way that death hangs over everything, nor can I explain the way that the local people's hope triumphs over every aspect of life here because of this faith they have that tomorrow will be better than today - even when the odds data say the complete opposite.
Right before I left, I was blessed by a conversation I had with a friend of mine. He was just so encouraging to me at a time of great stress. When I asked him, "why me?", he responded, "You've been praying for an encouragement - someone to come alongside you and help give truth to the faith that you have in God others, so I want to be part of that for you."
When I think of our friends here, these local leaders trying to empower AIDS orphans in their communities, I cannot help but feel like my friend. Why can't we be the ones that breath hope and truth into their faith? Our friends here are crying out to God and praying that He will see their pain. That God will see the impact death is having on their community. That God will breath hope and life into the darkness, making tomorrow better than today.
I invite you to be part of this hope giving experience through Forgotten Voices. Our whole mission is centered around demonstrating the love of Jesus Christ by equipping LOCAL churches to meet the physical spiritual needs of AIDS orphans in their communities. They are praying for miracles, for people God to see their suffering. They have faith that miracles will come. You can be that miracle, as God has richly blessed you me.
To give, visit http://www.ForgottenVoices.org.
I'm so thankful for each of you and for your continued prayers as we travel. Thanks for believing in me and in Forgotten Voices. We are learning a lot and look forward to sharing these lessons with you in the days ahead, as we learn and serve together.
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But what's in second place? If I were a contestant on Family Feud I'd bet it's "misplaced objects."
I am not a Roman Catholic, so I am not intimately acquainted with the ins and outs of praying to the saints. I know that particular saints are assigned certain tasks: some take care of the sick, others keep a solicitous eye out for mothers, while others look after people in their travels. The only saint I know by both name and function is St. Anthony, patron of lost things. Even the most lapsed Catholic will summon St. Anthony's assistance when looking for a misplaced pair of glasses or a vanished set of keys.
I am wary of prayers that seem designed to avoid inconvenience. When explaining the reality of answered prayer last week, my pastor gave an example of a lost screw that was recovered after a few earnest prayers. I squirmed uncomfortably in my pew. So saving the hassle of a trip to the hardware store is higher on God's list of priorities than ending war, disease, and world hunger?
Yet the idea that God is concerned with lost objects has a certain universality to it. Catholics petition St. Anthony; Protestants preach sermons about the miraculous recovery of nails and screws; even the New Testament is full of parables about lost sheep, pearls of great price, objects that people search for feverishly, their desire to restore what has been lost functioning as a metaphor for God's love and concern for humanity.
These stories have a certain personal resonance for me right now. My cell phone is beeping and I can't find the charger. It's supposed to be in the kitchen pantry, a location that is cluttered enough that I can never quite be sure I've searched it thoroughly. I am also missing the mailbox key for the new house (issued a few months ago along with our postal code). I can remember tucking that mailbox key away - I knew I wouldn't be using it for a few months, so I put it someplace safe, where it wouldn't get lost. But where?
Lost things are not as different from foxholes as they seem. They taunt us with our fallibility; they serve as glaring reminders of the gaps in our memory. There is always a moment of disbelief that accompanies the discovery of such a loss. I knew it was here. How can it be gone? Even when the lost object is something that can easily and cheaply be replaced, I will turn the house upside down looking for it. Once I lost a paint chip and stomped around the house muttering, "It was right here!" Hubby pointed out that I could go back to the store and get another one and I replied, "I've already got another one. That's not the point!"
The point, I think, is that lost objects shake our faith in the stability and knowability of the physical world. To lose something is to be confronted with that greater loss, the loss of our past selves, the selves that disappear each moment, despite our attempts to anchor them in scrapbooks and blog posts. I sorted through clothing for a garage sale this weekend, setting aside a few well-loved sleepers before boxing the rest up for sale. What startled me most is how many little outfits seemed wholly unfamiliar to me. I have no memory of a six-month-old Bub wearing that Winnie the Pooh romper. Where has that chubby boy gone, leaving nothing behind, not even a memory? It's no wonder that a missing object, no matter how trivial in and of itself, sends us running to God, praying that Someone is holding our lives in His hands, preserving each moment as it flees from our spotty, imperfect minds.
It sometimes happens when looking for
Lost objects, a book, a picture or
A coin or spoon,
That something falls across the mind -
Not quite a shadow but what a shadow would be
In a place that lacked light.
As though the lost things have withdrawn
Into themselves, books returned
To paper or wood or thought,
Coins and spoons to simple ores,
Lustreless and without history,
Waiting out of sight
And becoming part of a larger loss
Without a name
Or definition or form
Not unlike what touches us
In moments of shame.
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Everyone should move to someplace new. Make sure it looks different, feels different and is far enough away to be different. For no other reason than it truly unlocks the person inside of you.
I spent 37 years in CT, I loved it. Sure, its snowy in the winter and humid and hot in the summer but the spring and fall are beautiful (as long as youre not raking leaves or mowing grass) and it was everything I thought I wanted for a place to live. I cant say I envisioned growing old there because I dont devote any synapses to worrying about the inevitable. I made a ton of reasons NOT to move: my family, my job, my friends, I know where everything is, etc. I had to move 2600 miles away and change my perspective before I could figure out who I really was.
Im my dads son, and damn proud of it. I love and respect the guy and hes my true best friend. We NEVER told each other that we were each others best friend until the day I drove off to AZ. Why the hell couldnt we say it at any point in the last 15 years weve been best buds?
I am a mommys boy too, bruises and scrapes aside. I learned all my soft skills from her, but also learned when to stand up for myself and never back down. My tenacious spirit comes from her, and shes the one that drives me to complete a race or climb higher. She still cant see me on video chat without crying and took it the hardest when I left.
I am my sons dad, albeit mostly an absent one. I try as hard as I can to teach him, I work hard to show him that a great life is out there if he puts some effort in. Hes the blood in my veins and the tear in my eye and the person I truly strive to impress in this world. Whenever anything in life gets tough I tell myself How can I tell Ian to keep working if I quit now? That thought drives me forward through pain, that thought drags me through low times and gives me strength when I need it. I love my son and cant wait for the day when he sees the light and truly understands everything Ive tried to do for the last 14 years. I live for the day when the light bulb goes on and he realizes Im not the bad guy, that I have tried to be his hero all along.
I had to leave. I needed to become the next version of myself, the last one had run its course. The last version of me was fine; great job, good house, great family friends, superb wife, fun hobbies and everything I thought I wanted. That life got old and was the same ol thing over over.
Is the version of me any better? Maybe not, but its different. The new challenges, surroundings, pitfalls and untapped potential are in front of me - Ive got to navigate a new path for this next phase of my life. I am so glad that I have an awesome wife who understood that we needed to do this together. Good or bad, we had to blow it up and start over.
I visited my old home, where the me lived. Now I cant wait to get back to my new home. Ive never felt so free/scared/excited at the same time and its exhilarating.
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I ask if they want a ride home or if they want to walk. Having fun, they both say they'll walk home.
40 minutes later, I call the elder's cell phone and am informed that they are helping clean up.
"That's really nice of you," I say, "but you guys come home right after you're done. It's getting dark."
20 minutes later, the younger boy calls me.
"Mother, it's dark. Can you come get us?"
"Why aren't you already home? Have you been cleaning up all this time?"
Silence.
"Or have you been playing?"
"Um... both?"
Grrr!
"Start walking. NOW!"
But this is not the frustrating part.
When they arrive home at 9:30pm, they are both tired and dirty and thirsty.
All the elder boy wants is to lay down.
All the younger boy wants is a drink.
I am sympathetic. They look sad. I pour a glass of Kool-Aid for the 11-year-old.
But the elder boy drinks it, and the younger throws himself on the floor exhausted.
Explain this to me. You're killing me, guys.
This is still not the irritating part...
Hang on...
For all their whining, they cannot complete one single task (finish your drink, go to bed... you know, all the back-breaking things I ask them to do *rolls eyes*) without pausing to have a highly-animated, off-topic conversation.
If they are so tired, how can they stand on their heads explaining something that happened earlier? What is that?!?
Friggin'. Go. To. Bed. !. !. !.
But wait, there's more!
At 10pm, as I tuck the younger boy into bed with a tender kiss to his forehead (instead of the cuff upside the head I truly need to deliver to someone), I ask if he'd be interested in soccer camp this summer.
"It's from 6-8pm, so it's not in the middle of the day when it's hot," I tell him.
He shakes his head. "No," he says, "I don't want to have to go to bed that late."
*blink*
*blink*
"It's ten o'clock right now."
"I know. Could you make me go to bed earlier next time?"
That's when my head exploded.
Have a nice day.
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