I want no part in making any contribution whatsoever to the despair which eventually follows downbeat thinking.
Loretta Young
((((((((((((((((((((((
Hi
-----------------
What do the space shuttle, the 747, a blimp, a hot air balloon, a mountain climber, a tight rope walker, a pole vaulter and a good thinker all have in common?
DB
****************************
WEEKEND PUZZLE
Below is a list of 22 names. Your privilege is to rearrange the names into sets of two, a first name and a last name of two famous people. The 2 first names must be the same or the last 2 names must be the same, as in Joe DiMaggio and Joe Louis or Al Smith and Kate Smith. You may use any name more than once. To win you must use all the names and have at least 8 sets of two names each. Ready? Go !!!
Betsy
Berg
Bob
Danny
Diana
Dylan
Ford
George
Gerald
Gobel
Hamilton
Harrison
Hingle
Hope
Margaret
Molly
Pat
Picon
Robertson
Ross
Thatcher
Thomas
Good luck
Answer with winners will be posted on Sunday evening at 9 Eastern Time.
Note: 3 winners so far, 2 from the Email Lions, and 1 from the Blogspot Tigers.
dbdacoba@aol.com
http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/
Showing posts with label Loretta Young. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Loretta Young. Show all posts
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
"Yes" Yielding 5/26/09
If you have enthusiasm, you have a very dynamic, effective companion to travel with you on the road to Somewhere.
Loretta Young
********************
Enter. You don't need a passport.
--------------------------
My town is a mowed lawn, clipped hedge, pruned tree kind of community. A suburb, in other words. There is only one place where things grow wild, a mini forest on the edge of town. It's owned by The Nature Conservancy. It used to be a fairly good sized tract of uncultivated land but most of it has been turned into a parking lot. What's left is a narrow strip of wilderness between the lot and the wetland which drains off of the Delaware River.
There's a primitive walking trail through the little forest. But it's mostly hidden from view and so it's where the teenagers like to go sometimes to drink their beer, smoke their dope and do whatever else they do (don't ask). So the trail sometimes has some unwholesome litter on it. The trees and bushes don't mind. And neither do I.
I always visit the place in the fall to enjoy the rich foliage or sit on a log and watch the ducks. Or I can walk along the trail and pretend I'm lost in a far northern woods and maybe will see a chipmunk, a wild hare or a deer, if I'm lucky. No such critters abide there, alas. It's also a great place to watch the spring trying to exert itself, unencumbered by human help.
I decided this morning to write something on this topic of enthusiasm. But as I thought about the problems facing me, financial and physical, I wondered what I could justify being enthusiastic about. Then I read "The Hidden Side Of A Leaf" in Indigo's journal http://deafscreams.blogspot.com where she directs our attention to look beyond the surface and find beauty where it's hidden. I used to draw and paint leaves and I remember investigating the undersides of them. The reverse side of a leaf is like a gentle echo of what's on the obverse side. It's the part that doesn't catch the sun.
My life is hard. I can't go painlessly walking down the street to catch the spring sun or go strolling easily through the petite forest. But when I do I can look up at the trees and admire my brothers, the hidden forest leaves.
The journey goes on, and it's either done with depression and sorrow or it's done with the effective and dynamic joy of one who is glad to share life's hidden beauties with his humble companions.
DB The Vagabond
_________________
Put on your dancing shoes and greet the day.
*******************
Loretta Young
********************
Enter. You don't need a passport.
--------------------------
My town is a mowed lawn, clipped hedge, pruned tree kind of community. A suburb, in other words. There is only one place where things grow wild, a mini forest on the edge of town. It's owned by The Nature Conservancy. It used to be a fairly good sized tract of uncultivated land but most of it has been turned into a parking lot. What's left is a narrow strip of wilderness between the lot and the wetland which drains off of the Delaware River.
There's a primitive walking trail through the little forest. But it's mostly hidden from view and so it's where the teenagers like to go sometimes to drink their beer, smoke their dope and do whatever else they do (don't ask). So the trail sometimes has some unwholesome litter on it. The trees and bushes don't mind. And neither do I.
I always visit the place in the fall to enjoy the rich foliage or sit on a log and watch the ducks. Or I can walk along the trail and pretend I'm lost in a far northern woods and maybe will see a chipmunk, a wild hare or a deer, if I'm lucky. No such critters abide there, alas. It's also a great place to watch the spring trying to exert itself, unencumbered by human help.
I decided this morning to write something on this topic of enthusiasm. But as I thought about the problems facing me, financial and physical, I wondered what I could justify being enthusiastic about. Then I read "The Hidden Side Of A Leaf" in Indigo's journal http://deafscreams.blogspot.com where she directs our attention to look beyond the surface and find beauty where it's hidden. I used to draw and paint leaves and I remember investigating the undersides of them. The reverse side of a leaf is like a gentle echo of what's on the obverse side. It's the part that doesn't catch the sun.
My life is hard. I can't go painlessly walking down the street to catch the spring sun or go strolling easily through the petite forest. But when I do I can look up at the trees and admire my brothers, the hidden forest leaves.
The journey goes on, and it's either done with depression and sorrow or it's done with the effective and dynamic joy of one who is glad to share life's hidden beauties with his humble companions.
DB The Vagabond
_________________
Put on your dancing shoes and greet the day.
*******************
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)