Times change. But some things don’t. People like to talk, and talk they do. Whether it is intended or not… rumors have a way of starting. And then those rumors take on lives of their own. We are seeing that
Month: October 2016
another bright idea…
It really depends on how much conscious thought we give something. Everything depends on that. That is our reality….. or lack there of. It depends on us. Everything we experience or perceive, gets… at least….. a little bit of time
Who you calling now?
Tonight we watched the new Ghostbusters movie. Well, not so new anymore. DVDish new. It had its moments, but it could not compare to the first one. I won’t do the whole spoiler thing, in case you haven’t seen it.
The stuff we’re made of.
Sugar. And spice? And everything nice? I think we ALL have a little bit of that… for sure. But what are we really made of? Almost 99% of the mass of the human body is made up of six
My X’s. And Ohhhhs.
Genetics. What are they…. and just who the heck is responsible. Well, for you and I, we know who is directly responsible. It happened when that guy and that gal… spotted each other from across the room. It might
Dinah. Just Go Blow Your Horn.
Noise. Silence. Noise. Silence. Music to your ears? Or nails on a chalkboard? Sound is a tremendous gift in this life. Of course. Hearing is one of our five senses, so we had better love the likes of sound. Yet…
Lookout. I mean… DUCK!
There are all sorts of things to love about the changing seasons. That is one of the great parts of living in Ohio, the diversity of the seasons. They are each beautiful in their own unique way. Although, in my
Look that way
Be happy with what you have and are, be generous with both, and you won’t have to hunt for happiness. — William E. Gladstone Start by doing what’s necessary; then do what’s possible; and suddenly you are doing the
Roll with it baby.
Sometimes, you know it is time. Time for whatever you have been thinking about or feeling. We get this gut feeling which can guide us if we let it. Intuition. Instinct. A hunch. An inkling. No matter what you call
The Rumble… or not.
The first thing this morning, I opened my email. And there, at 5 a.m., was a video sent from a friend. It was the performance of “America” from West Side Story. Initially, it had me up and moving and filled