What we need is to love without getting tired.
Mother Teresa
********************
Hello Stuart
********************
I am so far behind in responding to my emails that sometimes I think I should just stand on the corner of a busy intersection some where and hand out cards that say "Thank You" to everyone who passes by.
I think I missed a few birthdays and was late on one (sorry Jen) and way behind on people's comings and goings. It isn't unusual for me to be up at 2 in the morning reading old emails and responding to some of them.
Why do I care? Because, as innocuous as it may seem at times, the contacts we make through this miracle of modern trouble making called the computer, are golden threads of friendship and care. Facebook really ought to be called Sharebook. Personal experiences are put online to be shared by others and sometimes problems are solved by someone out there in E-land who knows the answer. I know I am always grateful for someone who has done battle with some Google Monster and won and thus can pass on the right moves to make.
Knowing something about human nature you know that every one, even if he's the worst skink in the world, is in need of some affection and understanding on some level of his life in spite of what his social network face may suggest.
At least, but very important, this Internet specter enables us to keep lines of communication open between people who may never meet but who have become friends and acquaintances.
Read blogs, and, if you have something to say leave a comment. Sometimes it's good to know just that somebody read your blog. Read your emails and answer them. Go through Facebook and Twitter and whatever else you're connected to and see what's happening. And don't put it off just because you're weary. The other person wants to hear from you. As the little girl said "Love is what makes you smile even when you're tired."
Don't have time? Neither do I. That's why you end up with a mountain of unanswered mail, like mine. But I keep at it when I do have some time. So if I respond to an email you sent me in September don't be surprised.
DB - The Loving Vagabond
Never Give Up
************************
WEEKEND CONTEST ANSWER
A farmer son loads some pumpkins in his pick up truck and goes out to deliver them to various markets around town.
At the first market he delivers Half of the pumpkins in his truck plus half a pumpkin.
At the second market he leaves half of the pumpkins in his truck plus half a pumpkin.
At the third market he gives them half of the pumpkins he has plus half a pumpkin.
At the forth market he delivers half of the pumpkins he has plus half a pumpkin.
Then he drives his truck back to the farm to get more pumpkins because he's run out of them.
How many pumpkins did he have in the truck to begin with?
The Answer is 15
The only winner was the persistent Val, who therefore wins the genuine Lego pitchfork.
DB
**********************
AUTUMN QUESTION
This is not a contest
What event over the past year changed your life, a lot or a little?
Autumn is moving along.
Only 6 answers so far.
dbdacoba@aol.com
I eagerly await your answers.
DB
********************
Showing posts with label weekend puzzle answer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label weekend puzzle answer. Show all posts
Monday, November 14, 2011
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Sanctum Sacriligium
I care not for a person's religion whose dog and cat are not the better for it.
Abe Lincoln
******************
I am the beggar on the steps of the temple asking for and living on alms. There is no bench between here and the market. There is one stone about knee high. I sit on that to rest with my groceries at my feet, my cane in my lap and mutter out loud to myself as an old man should. Those who pass by think there's a crazy old man sitting there. And they;re right. I sit in the cave staring at the shadows on the wall. I am one who knows they are only shadows that others call realities. As with others before me and after me I try to interpret those shadows.
I am a caricature, a cartoon, a shadow on the wall that resembles an old man with a cane who mutters to himself and never goes to church.
I will remain on the steps and not enter the temple because I've been inside and I know it is a magnificent and beautiful chamber of hypocrisy. Inside is preached the negation of life, the removal of the vital forces of existence, the degrading of the innocent, the veil that covers true holiness,. The great door of the temple is an invitation to enter the sanctum of false security, to relax into the arms of unreason, to join in the celebration of a paradigm of delivery to an unknown source and to emerge cleansed and purged of the need to affirm any responsibility for ignorance and wrong doing.
Humanity is dressed in white robes of purity which cover up the sweat of true worship if there is any.. I no longer listen to what men in pious robes or everyman costumes tell me what God thinks, says, does or doesn't do. The simple fact is they don't know. They are staring at the shadows in the cave like everyone else. Concepts of God change with the flickering decades.
They can hang the Ten Commandments on the wall if they want to, but a plaque on the wall is not going to save anyone. There is no less paganism today than there ever was. Once outside the temple people go about worshipping the old gods of money, power, medicine, war, litigation, vengeance, hatred, exclusivity, status, prejudice, bias, ignorance: subtle sorcery, beliefs and practices of every shape, size and color.
One may get to heaven by being good. Good is what we are supposed to be. But leave me the freedom to try to be better than good. Don't coax me to accept your faith. Don't pray for my immortal soul. No one has the right to do that. Don't quote scripture to me. I've read it over myself many times. I wonder how many pious pseudo deists, including the ones in the robes, visit the fatherless and widows and keep themselves unspotted from the world.
I will practice my religion, if I practice any, at home, away from the candles, choirs and cheering mobs. And I know my dog and cat, if I had them, would prefer it that way.
DB - The Vagabond
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++=
Sunday Puzzle
One. two
How do you do.
-------------------------
Below is a list of Jazz Greats, first two name only. Your mission is to supply their last names.
Good luck.
-----------------------------
David Warren
Benjamin David
Edward Kennedy
Thomas Wright
Earl Kenneth
John Birks
Nathaniel Adams
Francis Albert
Gerald Joseph
Ernesto Antonio
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I await your answers.
******************************
Weekend Puzzle.
Sing along.
It's fun and easy.
XMBB, HVAG AG ZEM ZO HVZGM GZERG HVWH UZC VMWJ EZX WEN HVME, UZC NZE'H LEZX FCGH XVMJM WEN UZC NZE'H LEZX FCGH XVME. AH'G ZEM ZO HVZGM GZERG HVWH WJM ZQMJ WEN HVME, AH'G ZEM ZO HVZGM GZERG HVWH GHWJH YBWUAE' WRWAE. UMG, AH'G ZEM ZO HVZGM GZERG HVWH UZC VMWJ OZJ WXVABM HVWH PZKMG AEHZ OWGVAZE HVME RZMG ZCH ZO GHUBM. AH'G ZEM ZO HVZGM GZERG HVWH UZC HVAEL UZC OZJRZH. SCH AH'G ZEN ZO HVZGM GZERG UZC PWEEZH.
FAKKU NCJWEHM
RZZN EARVH KJG. PWBWSWGV, XVMJMQMJ UZC WJM.
*************************
First prize goes to Just Plain Bill of the Blogspot Tigers
Second priae to Salemslot9 also of the Tigers
The Lion never left the holding pen.
Answer:
Well, this is one of those songs that you hear now and then, you don't know just where and you don't know just when. It's one of those songs that are over and then its one of those songs that start playin' again. Yes it's one of those songs that you hear for awhile that comes into fashion then goes our of style. It's one of those songs that you think you forgot. But it's one of those you cannot.
Jimmy Durante
Good night Mrs. Calabash, wherever you are.
Abe Lincoln
******************
I am the beggar on the steps of the temple asking for and living on alms. There is no bench between here and the market. There is one stone about knee high. I sit on that to rest with my groceries at my feet, my cane in my lap and mutter out loud to myself as an old man should. Those who pass by think there's a crazy old man sitting there. And they;re right. I sit in the cave staring at the shadows on the wall. I am one who knows they are only shadows that others call realities. As with others before me and after me I try to interpret those shadows.
I am a caricature, a cartoon, a shadow on the wall that resembles an old man with a cane who mutters to himself and never goes to church.
I will remain on the steps and not enter the temple because I've been inside and I know it is a magnificent and beautiful chamber of hypocrisy. Inside is preached the negation of life, the removal of the vital forces of existence, the degrading of the innocent, the veil that covers true holiness,. The great door of the temple is an invitation to enter the sanctum of false security, to relax into the arms of unreason, to join in the celebration of a paradigm of delivery to an unknown source and to emerge cleansed and purged of the need to affirm any responsibility for ignorance and wrong doing.
Humanity is dressed in white robes of purity which cover up the sweat of true worship if there is any.. I no longer listen to what men in pious robes or everyman costumes tell me what God thinks, says, does or doesn't do. The simple fact is they don't know. They are staring at the shadows in the cave like everyone else. Concepts of God change with the flickering decades.
They can hang the Ten Commandments on the wall if they want to, but a plaque on the wall is not going to save anyone. There is no less paganism today than there ever was. Once outside the temple people go about worshipping the old gods of money, power, medicine, war, litigation, vengeance, hatred, exclusivity, status, prejudice, bias, ignorance: subtle sorcery, beliefs and practices of every shape, size and color.
One may get to heaven by being good. Good is what we are supposed to be. But leave me the freedom to try to be better than good. Don't coax me to accept your faith. Don't pray for my immortal soul. No one has the right to do that. Don't quote scripture to me. I've read it over myself many times. I wonder how many pious pseudo deists, including the ones in the robes, visit the fatherless and widows and keep themselves unspotted from the world.
I will practice my religion, if I practice any, at home, away from the candles, choirs and cheering mobs. And I know my dog and cat, if I had them, would prefer it that way.
DB - The Vagabond
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++=
Sunday Puzzle
One. two
How do you do.
-------------------------
Below is a list of Jazz Greats, first two name only. Your mission is to supply their last names.
Good luck.
-----------------------------
David Warren
Benjamin David
Edward Kennedy
Thomas Wright
Earl Kenneth
John Birks
Nathaniel Adams
Francis Albert
Gerald Joseph
Ernesto Antonio
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I await your answers.
******************************
Weekend Puzzle.
Sing along.
It's fun and easy.
XMBB, HVAG AG ZEM ZO HVZGM GZERG HVWH UZC VMWJ EZX WEN HVME, UZC NZE'H LEZX FCGH XVMJM WEN UZC NZE'H LEZX FCGH XVME. AH'G ZEM ZO HVZGM GZERG HVWH WJM ZQMJ WEN HVME, AH'G ZEM ZO HVZGM GZERG HVWH GHWJH YBWUAE' WRWAE. UMG, AH'G ZEM ZO HVZGM GZERG HVWH UZC VMWJ OZJ WXVABM HVWH PZKMG AEHZ OWGVAZE HVME RZMG ZCH ZO GHUBM. AH'G ZEM ZO HVZGM GZERG HVWH UZC HVAEL UZC OZJRZH. SCH AH'G ZEN ZO HVZGM GZERG UZC PWEEZH.
FAKKU NCJWEHM
RZZN EARVH KJG. PWBWSWGV, XVMJMQMJ UZC WJM.
*************************
First prize goes to Just Plain Bill of the Blogspot Tigers
Second priae to Salemslot9 also of the Tigers
The Lion never left the holding pen.
Answer:
Well, this is one of those songs that you hear now and then, you don't know just where and you don't know just when. It's one of those songs that are over and then its one of those songs that start playin' again. Yes it's one of those songs that you hear for awhile that comes into fashion then goes our of style. It's one of those songs that you think you forgot. But it's one of those you cannot.
Jimmy Durante
Good night Mrs. Calabash, wherever you are.
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