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"But what about school" I protested, for you see, I was one of those strange children who actually enjoyed going to school. "No school today, honey," my Mom said, "It's too dangerous for everyone." Now I was really worried, but thought that I would at least have an adventure with the family downstairs. We moved the candles, blankets, and all trudged downstairs. We set up a little campsite, with our ice chest full of sodas, and snacks and cookies - for breakfast even! We began to play board games, then card games, then take breaks and read aloud to each other. By around noon, though, we could barely hear anything the wind sounds were so loud. The house was shaking, and I could hear the branches of the shade trees in the background whipping round and round.
Suddenly, as if by magic, it was silent and calm. The air smelled funny, my Dad said it was something called OH-ZONE. All I know is it made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. For some reason, this silence seemed to make my parents even more nervous, and they suggested we all climb into our sleeping...
Just as we all were getting settled, I remembered something from the morning. I rushed upstairs and quickly found what I was looking for. I came back down, and just before I snuggled into my sleeping bag, opened up the yellow and purple spotted umbrella and put it over my area. My Dad said, "Don't you know it's bad luck to open an umbrella indoors?" I smiled and said, "I watched Mom holding it above you this morning, protecting you and Thad from the rain and wind. If that's what it does, I want it open in case the roof blows off." He smiled, and we all fell asleep for awhile. When we woke up, we could hear drops of rain hitting the house again, but the wind was not as loud as before. The hurricane had passed, and we still had our roof. And, there protecting all of us, was the yellow and purple spotted umbrella.
To this day, whenever I hear the wind or sense an approaching storm, I think of those days when I knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that the yellow and purple spotted umbrella would protect us all.
Waking Poem A Poem on the Philosophy of Waking: Rhythm of the Morning Ring ding dong And the night that seemed so long That stretched out like a knife That was darker than my life Is vanished like a dream And I'm awakened by the scream Alarming every time And I cannot seem to find The fingers to the button or a way to stop the sudden and never-ending bludgeon of the clock that keeps right on like that energizer
I am not sure what I expected about my check-up. I suppose I thought that the new relationship I had the OBGYN because of my pregnancy would continue on as a special relationship. I was wrong. My visit was, once again, the sterile, medical kind, and not the kind that I had with him while I was pregnant. My OBGYN performed the post surgical exam, and then spoke with me
7-Day Listening Journal Seven-day listening journal One critical barrier to 'paying attention' is a lack of time. When someone calls me early in the morning and I am in a rush to get ready, I am often guilty of not paying attention to the person who is speaking. This morning, someone called me when I was still foggy and in the process of waking up. Only after finishing the conversation and agreeing
waking up one morning and suddenly you are a bug. Last night, when you went to sleep you were an ordinary man. Today, you're a bug. Gregor Samsa does just that, and suddenly his life is thrown completely off track. No longer is he the sole breadwinner for his mother, father and sister. He is now the burden that they have been to him. His mundane job as a
Unfortunately, the American government has been looking in the wrong place for these models, especially in Asia and Latin America. For example, the coca plant from which cocaine is derived grows in abundance in many geographical regions of northern South America and in Central America, where growers make huge profits as compared to efforts to force farmers and peasants to grow legal crops which inevitably do not produce enough
Gregor is unable to eat fresh food, now, although his delight in eating is just as strong, if not stronger than before. Still, food, and the consumption of food, now socially isolates Gregor from his family, unlike the emotional connections that food once provided. His sister even discards the fresh foods that Gregor rejected, and he must hide after he eats, so as not to frighten his food provider. Gregor's