tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83242360563313976562024-03-26T23:35:17.718-07:00Albert Bianchine. “Change yourself and you have done your part in changing the world.”
— Paramahansa YoganandaWrite My Fire, Inc.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08627250404716616697noreply@blogger.comBlogger330125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8324236056331397656.post-69174112602650193712024-03-10T12:14:00.000-07:002024-03-10T13:50:24.547-07:00186-For Lucy- The Adventures Of Luna<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQMG0cnAN-DRSpuK5R8OiJrg8D-ym1JP_yt1SvqBfuhOIdgnjGuqpuLJfgQcVJQ9pnNqNIfsz_QzZeGnvoaora8aOw4_Tj77rYorTmkg6ZbDlrq2Sc_Ky9ioZRtNrPhKNSSdA2o7mCJ31_l4GrJO66rmhZOjRPM8lgFVLqRSp75h8gxzf3BS9193WRZfbH/s4032/427AFD3C-1FAD-446F-A7B6-CB23CFBA1180.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQMG0cnAN-DRSpuK5R8OiJrg8D-ym1JP_yt1SvqBfuhOIdgnjGuqpuLJfgQcVJQ9pnNqNIfsz_QzZeGnvoaora8aOw4_Tj77rYorTmkg6ZbDlrq2Sc_Ky9ioZRtNrPhKNSSdA2o7mCJ31_l4GrJO66rmhZOjRPM8lgFVLqRSp75h8gxzf3BS9193WRZfbH/s320/427AFD3C-1FAD-446F-A7B6-CB23CFBA1180.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(49, 49, 49); color: #313131; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 1rem; text-size-adjust: auto; word-spacing: 1px;">Dear Lucy,</span><p class="MsoNormal" data-originalcomputedfontsize="16" data-originalfontsize="12pt" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(49, 49, 49); color: #313131; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 1rem; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-size-adjust: auto; word-spacing: 1px;">It’s me LuLu.</p><p class="MsoNormal" data-originalcomputedfontsize="16" data-originalfontsize="12pt" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(49, 49, 49); color: #313131; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 1rem; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-size-adjust: auto; word-spacing: 1px;">Today Uncle Al read a book to me about friends in a magical kingdom. They played word games and drew wonderful pictures. It was really fun to learn all about the Queen and the people of the kingdom. I like when Uncle Al reads me stories. They make me happy and are a lot of fun. Maybe one day he will read you some stories. </p><p></p>Write My Fire, Inc.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08627250404716616697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8324236056331397656.post-56396749538803432432024-03-09T08:03:00.000-08:002024-03-09T08:04:12.177-08:00185-For Lucy-The Adventures Of Luna (LuLu)<p><span style="font-size: medium;"> <span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Dear Lucy,</span></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #313131; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; word-spacing: 1px;"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #313131; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; word-spacing: 1px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #313131; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; word-spacing: 1px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 1.33333rem;">It’s me LuLu. I went to the park with Uncle Al, Pete and Aunt Kathy today and had some really fun adventures I would like to share with you. Uncle Al and Pete took me on a long walk all around the park and I got very tired and had to sit down. It was such a good day and I was so happy that I gave</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 1.33333rem;"> A</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 1.33333rem;">unt Kathy a kiss on the cheek. We found a climbing wall and I climbed to the top of the wall and looked down at Pete from way up high.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #313131; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; word-spacing: 1px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 1.33333rem;">They had a giant slide with a big tall ladder and I went to the top and jumped into the slide and yelled, “Weee,” and slid down to the bottom and Pete barked at me and was really excited. Uncle Al caught me so I didn’t go flying off.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #313131; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; word-spacing: 1px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 1.33333rem;">There were two swings that Aunt Kathy and I swung on. Uncle Al pushed us very high and we laughed and flew way up in the air. I wasn’t afraid at all.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #313131; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; word-spacing: 1px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 1.33333rem;">On the way out of the park I saw a big and giant tree and climbed way up on the branches. I was so far up I could look out over the entire park. I wasn’t scared at all. I love to climb very high in the air and call Pete. She runs around and barks until I come down. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #313131; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; word-spacing: 1px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 1.33333rem;">We had so much fun that I can’t wait to go back!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #313131; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; word-spacing: 1px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 1.33333rem;">When we went home I was very hungry and I stole some of Aunt Kathy’s peanut butter treat.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #313131; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; word-spacing: 1px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 1.33333rem;"><a href="https://youtu.be/LgR6UNeQxXE?si=dXcd-eP4eNdbeCvy">Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds, The Beatles</a><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #313131; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; word-spacing: 1px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 1.33333rem;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #313131; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; word-spacing: 1px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii82_9ALsBD5io8krSWBe4EQ4RPSWqSjqM42M1TDWmXOSXsSnW5U19qxqfRCA04XCFMEJFpgXN0_-3Bt7i3dIttSylZ2DYAEduSvMRjldvF9OmMg7Lzsrrxwk_XqPUWqYoqv-rThRsSLIyMOrNQmkKEhm-nDMbYhZL_UiiRR3BLnEQx910BwRgzJCXMuK2/s707/0-1.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="707" data-original-width="530" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii82_9ALsBD5io8krSWBe4EQ4RPSWqSjqM42M1TDWmXOSXsSnW5U19qxqfRCA04XCFMEJFpgXN0_-3Bt7i3dIttSylZ2DYAEduSvMRjldvF9OmMg7Lzsrrxwk_XqPUWqYoqv-rThRsSLIyMOrNQmkKEhm-nDMbYhZL_UiiRR3BLnEQx910BwRgzJCXMuK2/s320/0-1.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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font-size: 1.33333rem;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #313131; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; word-spacing: 1px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 1.33333rem;"><br /></span><p></p>Write My Fire, Inc.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08627250404716616697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8324236056331397656.post-40533291065189864462024-03-06T22:35:00.000-08:002024-03-07T17:19:04.981-08:00184-Olympic Logo Use And Their SymbolismThe Olympic rings are the exclusive property of the International Olympic Committee (IOC). They are a mark protected around the world and cannot be used without the IOC's prior written consent. You can send a detailed request to legal@olympic.org which must include the below information: Who is making the request?
Olympic rings and other olympic marks - FAQ
N I USE THE OLYMPIC RINGS?
· The Olympic rings are the exclusive property of the International Olympic Committee (IOC). They are a mark protected around the world and cannot be used without the IOC's prior written consent.
You can send a detailed request to legal@olympic.org which must include the below information:
o Who is making the request? Name, full address, telephone and/or fax number, e-mail address. Organisation, company, museum or individual.
o Which content is concerned? (texts, images or films)
o How will the content be used? Private use (no broadcasting), school work, group activities, exhibition, production/broadcasting
Learn more:
o Olympic Charter, Chapter 1, Rules 7-14 and its Bye-law<div><br /></div><div><a href="https://olympics.com/ioc/olympic-rings">The Olympic Rings</a> are the single greatest source of symbolism to the Modern World. I believe it is possible by submitting a request to distribute pamphlets and books containing short stories, poetry, art and also music to all of the participants in the 2026 XXV Milan-Cortina Ollympics and Paralympics. It will be a promotion of a trilogy of books along with an accompanying collection of songs. It would be wise to incorporate all arts in your promotion. <i>"<span face="arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; white-space: pre-line;">Sports are at the foundation of the Milano-Cortina 2026 project. Sixteen Olympic and six Paralympic disciplines spread across 18 competition centres. Some 3,500 athletes from </span><span class="FCUp0c rQMQod" face="arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-weight: bold; white-space: pre-line;">93 countries</span><span face="arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; white-space: pre-line;"> will compete for a spot on the podium" </span></i></div><div><i><span face="arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; white-space: pre-line;"><br /></span></i></div><div><span face="arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; white-space: pre-line;">A promotion of this scale would send your material to their respective countries if you were allowed to utilize their swag. It would open the door for translating the writing and music to their native languages so they could in essence bring the pieces of Americana Home. All lands love a cowboy and Tom Dillion is just the cowboy, his poetry and prose and his working knowledge of all things American is just the right sell. The most intriguing aspect of the scenario is that the Bobsledding and track sports may well be held in Lake Placid, New York as the facilities of Italy may not be able to be completed. Several pieces of writing have already been set in and around the 1980 Winter Olympics held there. The remaining works are set in Ski Area's and National Forests of North America as well as current works set in Chamonix, France and Cortina D' Ampezzo. To add wonder or synchronicity to the mix the Winter Olympics are soon to be announced for 2030 and 2034. Utah in America will be hosting a games. It is more likely to be the 34 Olympics. ( Many of my short stories and poems are set in the ski area's and national forests of the west.) It will allow for the completion the work that will be set in Cortina to be included. How is that for astonishment. The old college cliche' of I'll run with it should be heard reverberating from literally the mountain tops. I am not sure how I will accomplish this goal every forward action is blocked where publication is concerned. The work is experimental and very narrow in its appeal. I believe that the North American National Forests and Ski Area's are desirable as topics to the people of Europe and the world. How to convince a publisher of this will be the trick. I am experiencing a false summit in my writing publication. I have been on many false summit climbs. You just need to put your head down, place one foot in front of the other and soldier on. All is well that ends well folks!</span></div><div><span face="arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; white-space: pre-line;">Happy Writing Dreams. (Who would have thought a simple short story in a writing class at Union College in Schenectady, New York, titled<i> White Dreams. </i>in 1978, would see me poised to tackle the Olympics of 2026 and 2034 with an arsenal of writings on the America's and Europe.)</span></div><div><span face="arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; white-space: pre-line;"> God Bless America!</span></div><div><span face="arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; white-space: pre-line;"><a href="https://youtu.be/8a-HfNE3EIo?si=t-xyRrqxj81w6Xi3">Vangelis-Chariots Of Fire</a><br /></span></div>Write My Fire, Inc.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08627250404716616697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8324236056331397656.post-79352993488527938222024-02-08T14:26:00.000-08:002024-02-14T11:07:47.382-08:00182-Ask Mrs. Peach? What Is A Girl To Do In This New Anti-Woman American Mindset, What Style and Color Hat are you wearing to the Revolution? A Concerned Swiftie<div class="separator"><br /></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj58DmWI-yRXaK9u1HsAh9-eO3HfCWoEApiE7OZyCnzaEIqxOaz5Nq4nUkEK4QR6kCr8rOpek_fMmcAqCdtRPkwEmZkLSj8daPDBsNkolDUYcmN3A3IPv_Y4-WJa9ETzj3j84yx4_ua1L0pYMj6pPmTxMyrZyN1Fr57uH-aeIXNqLd6kSc74t0BonvZEN0e/s4032/IMG-3043.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj58DmWI-yRXaK9u1HsAh9-eO3HfCWoEApiE7OZyCnzaEIqxOaz5Nq4nUkEK4QR6kCr8rOpek_fMmcAqCdtRPkwEmZkLSj8daPDBsNkolDUYcmN3A3IPv_Y4-WJa9ETzj3j84yx4_ua1L0pYMj6pPmTxMyrZyN1Fr57uH-aeIXNqLd6kSc74t0BonvZEN0e/s320/IMG-3043.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /> <span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">This is a work of Satirical Nature from the mind of a Champagne Toy Poodle and does not reflect on any factual nature regarding the named Individuals and should not be construed as such.</span><p></p><p><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Dear Mrs. Peach, Seriously, are you kidding me with this new act attempting to discredit my endeavors to get my Swiftie's out to vote? I am amazed. Just when I thought I had seen everything, THIS! My question to you is. What is a girl to do in this new Anti-Woman American mindset, also What color hat are you wearing to the revolution? </span></p><p><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Sincerely, Concerned Swiftie</span></p><p><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Dear Concerned Swiftie,</span></p><p><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">First, let me say I am an ardent fan. You might even say I am a Swiftie also. What you have accomplished in life and how you conduct yourself is beyond reproach in my humble opinion. Of course, I am a true Champagne Toy Poodle and receive a fair amount of adulation in my own right. My advice is,"You go girl!" Don't let them bring you down, you are far greater than he ever will be. As you already have seen back in <a href="https://writemyfireinc.blogspot.com/2020/07/lesson-six-art-of-acceptance-in-time-of.html">Lesson Six-The Art of Acceptance</a>, I am no fan of Mr.Strump (My Pet Name- I won't give him the satisfaction of using his real name. After all he is the worst name caller in the Universe.) If you recall in the last election I stood up for Kamala Harris when she was being picked on and made fun of for wearing a mask during the pandemic. I won't even begin to go into the millions of Americans that were killed and the untold suffering that was wrought upon the good citizens of this great country by the one and only, Mr. Strump. My lord I am still amazed that he is even allowed to run for an office. Like I told Kamala recently when we spoke, "Girl, you can't let them put you on a shelf. You were an integral part and a primary reason Joe Biden was elected. Then they attempted to silence your voice and make you the dutiful little Vice President You are sooo much more than that. You know better. We must not allow ourselves to be marginalized by this ever increasing attack on women." If I wasn't so pleased by the performance of this administration and how hard they have worked to overcome the complete incompetency and inaction of My Strump's Administration, I would be very angry with Joe now. I guess you can tell, my Sister, that you have touched a nerve with a hot poker, Girl. But poor Joe, while I love him dearly and applaud him for the great savior he and his team is. Its time to let the young folks lead. </span></p><p><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">My Dear Swiftie! I do not condone violence, hatred, animosity (animalosity), insurrection, and just plain unkindness. One must not preach hatred of any kind, there is absolutely no room in this world for it. So forgive my violent tirade, I too am a work in progress. Stand tall and speak your truth. You are allowed as a Woman in America (at least for now) to have a voice and thoughts, although your autonomy concerning your womanhood is being questioned. When will the conscience of America wake up from the deep sleep it is presently in? I know you try to use your gifts and your platform for good and noble deeds and if they thought they could get away with it they would burn you at the stake in front of the Lincoln Memorial (the second most picked on President, hey at least History tells us they had real witches in Salem) like Joan of Arc! Stem the rising tides, of American Armaggeddon's, turn back the raging sea's of radical extremisms blasphemies, spewing from the cauldron's tended by the World's Aristocracies. Yes it is time for all of us to stand up and be counted. We are with you Taylor. We can proudly stand in our Glorious Womanhood and shout from the Highest Mountain! The Revolution is Now! When is the Revolution! The Revolution is Now! This is not a Revolution of Violence. It is the Revolution of Mind, Body and Spirit through Music, Poetry and Prose. We are here in mass and are ready to be seen and heard. For every great movement in the world there is a catalyst that ignites the flame that begins to burn until it becomes a sweeping raging storm of change. (A Cultural Revolution) That time is now, I do not fear Mr Strump. They don't call me Giant Pete for my stature. I with my sling and trusty pebble will Let Fly my words and slay the Giant! Like <a href="https://www.amazon.com/s?k=the+emperor%27s+new+clothes+book&i=stripbooks&crid=3A124HDQ17701&sprefix=The+Emperor%27s+%2Cstripbooks%2C438&ref=nb_sb_ss_ts-doa-p_4_14">The Emperor's New Clothes</a> the entire World will be laughing at his pudgy butt! (Ha, I said pudgy butt for everyone to hear!) Public sentiment will go against him and he will be defeated. To all Swiftie's and all young people who are abandoning Joe, we need to get out and Vote and we will Let our Voices be raised and our Spirits shine brighter than the torch lit for liberty.</span></p><p><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">It is like my blogs with <a href="https://writemyfireinc.blogspot.com/2023/01/4-ask-mrs-peach-how-can-we-best-educate.html">Jill</a>, <a href="https://writemyfireinc.blogspot.com/2023/09/175-ask-mrs-peach.html">Michelle</a> <a href="https://writemyfireinc.blogspot.com/2022/09/2-ask-mrspeach-how-does-woman-respond.html">Liz</a> and <a href="https://writemyfireinc.blogspot.com/2022/">Barack</a> when you are truly one of God's Chosen Leaders you must step forward and let your voice be heard for all of those that are oppressed and unable to speak.</span></p><p><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Yours in Sisterhood</span></p><p><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Mrs. Pete Peach</span></p><p><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">My Favorite Anthem, <a href="https://youtu.be/21mKreFKm6E?si=vpB6PWE-c9YL4w22">Only The Young, Taylor Swift</a></span></span></p><p><span style="color: #222222;">Thank You for your wonderful soul and music. </span></p><p><span style="color: #222222;">You have the support and love of Write My Fire.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8li1vPMda2WAReUVU87NuHBMXbt74vxaS6Fz3Mnw5UFc23EGWSsBbTy8vsxByrJRIdqkLWTlcKzX3rxX8dUL8rhGtOSHxbtgBcdez-L4EHkskDUXKRJ9BGBeFDj6_YAyahf0DYE_7hsyrEDyxGmcv8VgYWk0IZB6FJ65_PSp5Qx_x8wLhsowxweISiXgg/s220/dreamstime_12158846.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="220" data-original-width="180" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8li1vPMda2WAReUVU87NuHBMXbt74vxaS6Fz3Mnw5UFc23EGWSsBbTy8vsxByrJRIdqkLWTlcKzX3rxX8dUL8rhGtOSHxbtgBcdez-L4EHkskDUXKRJ9BGBeFDj6_YAyahf0DYE_7hsyrEDyxGmcv8VgYWk0IZB6FJ65_PSp5Qx_x8wLhsowxweISiXgg/s1600/dreamstime_12158846.jpg" width="180" /></a></span></div><span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="color: #222222;">Which style and color hat do you like for our revolution?</span></p><p><span style="color: #222222;">My Preference is the <a href="https://goldcoastcouture.com/kentucky-derby-hats/">Ariana Fascinator</a> Hot Pink and Red Hat. It's the name of my best friend ever!</span></p><p><span style="color: #222222;">I think the <a href="https://goldcoastcouture.com/kentucky-derby-hats/">Amelia Nude and Navy Blue</a> Goes for you. Next we will have to have Jill, Kamala, Liz, and Michelle choose theirs.</span></p><p><span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></p><p>Sometimes I just like to identify with the people here are several head shots. I'm so torn I'm not sure which look would go?</p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheEyNtUx0f-ZBFfwgxftkn-zemahbUfgat7EJzojt7jmDbDS7UNZOXceO09ya3YplPO9MRUNWawBDHt_-7JcX6tiRV2V2xBuPB-X4Ct_MQcUAZhYxR4V3oPN8LWY0zTdUpwvV4QR0nKtxBItddWFL3RIzexMhNbX-6bjb_Yg9eqH7EhnOA7MkNlLkf6F9-/s2208/IMG-6544.PNG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2208" data-original-width="1242" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheEyNtUx0f-ZBFfwgxftkn-zemahbUfgat7EJzojt7jmDbDS7UNZOXceO09ya3YplPO9MRUNWawBDHt_-7JcX6tiRV2V2xBuPB-X4Ct_MQcUAZhYxR4V3oPN8LWY0zTdUpwvV4QR0nKtxBItddWFL3RIzexMhNbX-6bjb_Yg9eqH7EhnOA7MkNlLkf6F9-/w225-h400/IMG-6544.PNG" width="225" /></a></div><br /><div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD0oprz0EMNwVWdqi3GAsesvivrj-xJ7_-XPFySkmCU6iej5uaSYsz0wkW9VmeK5gP0CeUc0XURzWhgqSnbHo1659dDmfneo56AXwH-lGs-A1x9s_lly_sFh5BqkI6SI2s-vMlPUll4tM9ITIx6EDDJu-EBKF8XJu17sYweeql8U2DdASb1K5Id706hp21/s4032/FullSizeRender.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD0oprz0EMNwVWdqi3GAsesvivrj-xJ7_-XPFySkmCU6iej5uaSYsz0wkW9VmeK5gP0CeUc0XURzWhgqSnbHo1659dDmfneo56AXwH-lGs-A1x9s_lly_sFh5BqkI6SI2s-vMlPUll4tM9ITIx6EDDJu-EBKF8XJu17sYweeql8U2DdASb1K5Id706hp21/s320/FullSizeRender.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div>Happy Valentine's to you and your. I would like for you to use your Talk Boxes, Think Boxes and Smart Watch Boxes and we will accomplish what we did for Barack and elect the first Woman President. You should pick a hat and let the best woman throw it in the ring.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Happy 28th Saint Valentine"s Day Anniversary to Kathleen a Siren from an emerald sea with a lullaby as sweet as Fireweed Honey</div><div>from a Phoenix Rising from the mountain ashes and a tale of the love of a Colorado Belle. Love Uncle Albert</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdNJ9LQzM2DT1lf352uOLLFVHyyqtL2WpLU9vyvkI6T_APKDDOrjEfxpodJdi7t4mM_aiJp77kp0-VphF9KVu0cmobx1C9JfORueanI1JFWG7lgb1JTllbQOVsI0uiimYvxyyPIGz80GpIhvvTi9FUujgyAtlenJ9rai1J3XYcx2fsQ_979-CjPOMxmQJ5/s1080/thumbnail-1.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="810" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdNJ9LQzM2DT1lf352uOLLFVHyyqtL2WpLU9vyvkI6T_APKDDOrjEfxpodJdi7t4mM_aiJp77kp0-VphF9KVu0cmobx1C9JfORueanI1JFWG7lgb1JTllbQOVsI0uiimYvxyyPIGz80GpIhvvTi9FUujgyAtlenJ9rai1J3XYcx2fsQ_979-CjPOMxmQJ5/s320/thumbnail-1.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGXdnt9QSoJnYwY2HKZNQocpSDYeb3jIR9ka3vfKnq4rX-Xfn3Y2YW15rbf_3Y0_vQBD8R5m2uAiRIFCMoaygu8_fNi0iG9C9A9DGiPfWYiQrMoiXL7RBhY0mtaIv840yMFPC_70bQDRqQNjmcakaeolLJIN1w4-udOhNHNC8leH8EZJqBFjsxw9n51izw/s1080/thumbnail.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="810" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGXdnt9QSoJnYwY2HKZNQocpSDYeb3jIR9ka3vfKnq4rX-Xfn3Y2YW15rbf_3Y0_vQBD8R5m2uAiRIFCMoaygu8_fNi0iG9C9A9DGiPfWYiQrMoiXL7RBhY0mtaIv840yMFPC_70bQDRqQNjmcakaeolLJIN1w4-udOhNHNC8leH8EZJqBFjsxw9n51izw/s320/thumbnail.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><br /></span><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-IDz14A3umCtLY94Mka_ZBIYDz1FRUsjI-VVm659Lm3MdFwYa79gMhaSjwjgyrYc1J7uT-AP6ssW4c6P2GTyCXl0U-HtqicgIPenYOt-e2TGFxPL1sPc_0cmJFGGEjSagbnEE6qHYZsp5wB1BV-alsA-CXLrlohK4gZkEh0gGA3NpB9wIHTo6zLrEoskm/s2048/IMG_5351.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-IDz14A3umCtLY94Mka_ZBIYDz1FRUsjI-VVm659Lm3MdFwYa79gMhaSjwjgyrYc1J7uT-AP6ssW4c6P2GTyCXl0U-HtqicgIPenYOt-e2TGFxPL1sPc_0cmJFGGEjSagbnEE6qHYZsp5wB1BV-alsA-CXLrlohK4gZkEh0gGA3NpB9wIHTo6zLrEoskm/s320/IMG_5351.JPG" width="240" /></a></div></div></div>Write My Fire, Inc.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08627250404716616697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8324236056331397656.post-36383458407804905492024-01-16T20:30:00.000-08:002024-01-18T06:24:10.135-08:00109- The Moose Jaw- The Ending to White Dreams ( Young Adult Version Of The Lure Of The Mountain King, Uncle Albert's Mountain}<p><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt;">There have been many endings over the years. Leaving the mountain alone has always been my favorite, but as the the years have progressed I have experimented with Tom and Sara being together in some form. Since I had always wanted this to be a young adult work my first go at togetherness was for simplicity. I published it in May of 2022 but then deleted it. I once again offer it up in it's simplicity. Which one is better is for you the reader to decide.</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt;"> The Moose Jaw</span></p><div class="adn ads" data-legacy-message-id="17f8c7be3dc6742f" data-message-id="#msg-a:r1542727291668639749" style="background-color: white; border-left-style: none; border-left: none; color: #222222; display: flex; font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; padding: 0px;"><div class="gs" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 20px; width: 1134px;"><div class="ii gt" id=":c4" jslog="20277; u014N:xr6bB; 4:W251bGwsbnVsbCxbXV0." style="direction: ltr; font-size: 0.875rem; margin: 8px 0px 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative;"><div class="a3s aiL" id=":c5" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: 1.5; overflow: hidden;"><div dir="ltr"><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span style="font-size: 12pt;"> Sara was sitting at the end of the bar. She was unconsciously twisting the end of her auburn hair, between her thumb and forefinger. Her head buried in a novel, reading short stories and good writing was her favorite pastime. There were only a handful of customers this afternoon. The season had ended and business would be slow until autumn winds brought another winter to the Rocky Mountains. A new song drifted over the sound system. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">The front door slowly opened and a black Stetson appeared. Sara felt her body involuntarily shiver. She quickly buried her head back into her book,</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> “When are you going to wake up?” Sara said to herself. “You can’t hide from the world forever.”</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">She stared blankly at the pages. Lifting her hands she turned them upright, they were covered with black smudge marks from the print. She realized that was exactly what she was doing. Hiding from Tom and hiding from herself. Year after year she sat with her books. She listened to others talk of their adventures. Standing at the bar mixing their drinks and collecting their spare change. Spare change to make her ends meet. Always buried in another book, she thought she would probably grow old and grey with a book in her hands.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> “Hi,” he said cautiously. He was hoping it would go well. She had this incredible knack for avoiding him.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> “Hi,” she smiled radiantly. Sara’s eyes softened as they met his. She jumped off her chair and ran to him. She grasped his hand and held tightly to his big fingers.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> ”I’m sorry this all happened. I was wrong to try and force you into something you weren’t ready for. If nothing else you taught me the value of freedom and the courage to spend it"</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Tom looked deeply into her eyes.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> “No, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I can’t settle in one place. My first reaction to life is to bolt when things get tough, to run away instead of fighting. I want to be with you, without you I’ll probably always be a drifter. You are the only stability I’ve ever known.”</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">He saw the same spark that was there the first time they had met. It had never left, even when he thought it would never return.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> “Listen, I can’t explain my feelings, when I’m near you. I’m trying to find the words to explain how much I care. It’s just that I’ve got this crazy dream. Maybe I can make a difference. Maybe I can -----.”</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">She gently put her fingers to his lips.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> “I’ll make you a deal. No more talk of commitment. You give me a taste of real freedom.”</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">He loosened the straps of his knapsack and slid his arm around her waist. He slapped his hand on the bar.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> “There’s this little saloon in Targhee called ‘Wild Bills’,” he scratched the stubble on his chin. “You could work on the mountain with me and learn to ski or tend bar there.”</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> “Only if you shave,” she laughed wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Tom gently pulled her closer. He felt the warmth of her body next to his. He knew it was right. He would give her everything possible for him to give. Sara was the serenity he found among the jagged peaks. It was meant to last forever. The balance between man and nature in the mountains is fragile and extremely delicate. Life hangs precariously by a taught golden string, stretched sometimes almost to the breaking point. A balance that was as tender and tight as that between a man and a woman. Tom always pushed toward the edge. Someday he would push too far. He would regret many things in his life. He would never regret giving his love to Sara.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> “No promises.”</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> “No promise,” he agreed.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">She tore off her apron, and threw it behind the bar. She grabbed her blue knapsack and stuffed her book into it. Pulling on her ski jacket, she flipped her hair outside. It would be an exciting change for her. They started for the entrance.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> “Hey Sara, How about another?” one of the customers yelled.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">She turned gracefully, her hair flowing in a wide arc. It gently came to rest, tight under her chin. Tom waited his throat dry. He watched every move she made.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Sara glanced back at him. She carefully studied his features cautiously for a sign, any answer. Tom said nothing.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Sara turned and reached for Tom’s hand. They walked out the door.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> “What’s Targhee like?” she said.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> “I’ll show you,” he replied.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><a href="https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=HLvMV1iXw84&feature=share">The Ring Song, Jaya Sia Ram, Krishjna Das, Flow Of Grace</a><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhelfIhbzmpq8d-riofZCnaMfu99RZKIq3VC7OfoiH9aeObe_Elq2gRAs8sWVOUPc1ZbpypIAPcNhP3QmWC57FvrYL-tiGfAlP39qc8tl7goQAWIVzu9AV0KDbDuJ0-WuclhgwaHeG0-j5GXgyO2T-dvPtSiEAIni91SJhp3x8W36VF6NIkta7xxhLTEQ/s220/dreamstime_12158846.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="220" data-original-width="180" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhelfIhbzmpq8d-riofZCnaMfu99RZKIq3VC7OfoiH9aeObe_Elq2gRAs8sWVOUPc1ZbpypIAPcNhP3QmWC57FvrYL-tiGfAlP39qc8tl7goQAWIVzu9AV0KDbDuJ0-WuclhgwaHeG0-j5GXgyO2T-dvPtSiEAIni91SJhp3x8W36VF6NIkta7xxhLTEQ/s1600/dreamstime_12158846.jpg" width="180" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><br /></p></div><div class="yj6qo"></div><div class="adL"></div></div></div><div class="hi" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; background: rgb(242, 242, 242); border-bottom-left-radius: 1px; border-bottom-right-radius: 1px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; width: auto;"></div></div><div class="ajx" style="clear: both;"></div></div><div class="gA gt acV" style="background-color: white; background: rgb(255, 255, 255); border-bottom-left-radius: 0px; border-bottom-right-radius: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top: none; color: #222222; font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 0.875rem; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; width: auto;"><div class="gB xu" style="border-top-width: 0px; border-top: 0px; padding: 0px;"><div class="ip iq" style="border-top-style: none; border-top: none; clear: both; margin: 0px; padding: 16px 0px;"></div></div></div>Write My Fire, Inc.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08627250404716616697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8324236056331397656.post-84845192378760931532023-12-30T18:40:00.000-08:002024-01-10T06:44:23.951-08:00180-Is a Trilogy a Precursor for a Trinity?<p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> What is the relationship of a trilogy to a trinity? The obvious grouping of three is too simple of an explanation. If you examine the trilogy</span><span><i>(</i></span><span><i><span face="arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #70757a; white-space: pre-line;">noun </span><span face="arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; white-space: pre-line;">a group of three related novels, plays, films, operas, or albums.</span><span face="arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #70757a; white-space: pre-line;">"J.R.R. Tolkien's epic fantasy trilogy, The Lord of the Rings")</span></i></span><span face="arial, sans-serif" style="color: #202124; white-space: pre-line;"><span><i> </i></span><span>you would wonder as a group of writing what the time line is for the origin of the material. If you were to say write a novel at a young age, followed by a later work and then by a significantly later work you could make an argument that would support it as being a trinity in origin.</span></span><i><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SFUIText"; text-size-adjust: auto;"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SFUIText"; text-size-adjust: auto;">trin·i·ty</span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: ".SFUIText";">/ˈtrinədē/, </span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: ".SFUIText";">noun, </span></i><span style="color: #454545; font-family: ".SFUIText";"><i>the Christian Godhead as one God in three persons: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.</i> Now it may seem sacrilegious to compare your youth, middle age and wisdom of old age to that of a religious trinity but you can see the truth in the analogy of the learned wisdom. What you would have written in the naivety of youth, and the greater wisdom of old age would be vastly different. Hence the analogy to a religious trinity.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #454545; font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 20.3px; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17pt;"></span></p>Write My Fire, Inc.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08627250404716616697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8324236056331397656.post-38571048068740373032023-12-25T14:57:00.000-08:002023-12-25T14:57:40.998-08:00179- Merry Christmas <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiurP9i7bcQKChtCeDgqggEsfXnWgh5y85XyMGugz3znbtBgvzeAq-fstHdo6rVisfy6rXui69aHQ7rVlNF8EmB97epe3uHd0-l9gtq95-aKP8XvgkV-EhtfjShTbVqsvWUfF2OaqM4D5QDeGkWJX8vxqO2pHy-TOgFghaJcJOEBWL5WlsusAognkxIOhI3/s2208/622AB6EE-366E-46DD-9777-ED0BE27400AE.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2208" data-original-width="1242" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiurP9i7bcQKChtCeDgqggEsfXnWgh5y85XyMGugz3znbtBgvzeAq-fstHdo6rVisfy6rXui69aHQ7rVlNF8EmB97epe3uHd0-l9gtq95-aKP8XvgkV-EhtfjShTbVqsvWUfF2OaqM4D5QDeGkWJX8vxqO2pHy-TOgFghaJcJOEBWL5WlsusAognkxIOhI3/s320/622AB6EE-366E-46DD-9777-ED0BE27400AE.png" width="180" /></a></div><br /> Pete, her friend Boney and Al wish you a Merry Christmas!<p></p>Write My Fire, Inc.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08627250404716616697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8324236056331397656.post-57071811234517255562023-12-08T22:02:00.000-08:002023-12-09T05:38:52.832-08:00178-Dharma Talk<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAVC5eLemsMiNnVEAjDl8_xGaAzbhXPVtBgt1EQjUAMYwnIVezj2jM5gF03gHR2877WAtuTBN9rakOBaw-WQdEMpTDyuRpSt4HT5oRqBWeBtkC0LBzSlWIN6NnQ0c3r4Ks4PlEX_jGLv_sMVnQ7WfvaB5g5-FLbtf6f36C-Bkoag-SwR1VDa7vPOV3-RB4/s3264/D2A2548E-A51F-43E2-ADAB-2904362F9863.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3264" data-original-width="2448" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAVC5eLemsMiNnVEAjDl8_xGaAzbhXPVtBgt1EQjUAMYwnIVezj2jM5gF03gHR2877WAtuTBN9rakOBaw-WQdEMpTDyuRpSt4HT5oRqBWeBtkC0LBzSlWIN6NnQ0c3r4Ks4PlEX_jGLv_sMVnQ7WfvaB5g5-FLbtf6f36C-Bkoag-SwR1VDa7vPOV3-RB4/s320/D2A2548E-A51F-43E2-ADAB-2904362F9863.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><div>(Pete with her Good Friend Dharma)</div><br /><span data-originalcomputedfontsize="16" data-removefontsize="true" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 1rem; font-style: italic; text-size-adjust: auto; word-spacing: 1px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; caret-color: rgb(74, 74, 74); color: #4a4a4a; font-family: ArcherPro; font-style: normal; text-size-adjust: 100%; word-spacing: 0px;">The Lord is with me and I am with Him. That is His promise in the <a href="https://www.amazon.com/God-Talks-Arjuna-Self-Realization-Fellowship/dp/0876120311/ref=sr_1_1?crid=1KTSKHEZE6P4E&keywords=paramahansa+yogananda+the+bhagavad+gita&qid=1702101246&s=books&sprefix=paramahansa+yoganada+the+bhagavad+gita%2Cstripbooks%2C184&sr=1-1">Bhagavad Gita:</a> “He who perceives Me everywhere and beholds everything in Me never loses sight of Me, nor do I ever lose sight of him.” </span></span><span data-originalcomputedfontsize="16" data-removefontsize="true" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 1rem; text-size-adjust: auto; word-spacing: 1px;"><i>Paramahansa Yogananda </i></span><p></p><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;"><span style="word-spacing: 1px;">You are not alone, isolated or without companionship in your darkest hours. When the night closes in around you and the world, your life, your work, your boss, your existence is in disharmony. Remember that your father is always with you. He may be in the company of a friend or a companion, a co worker, the barista, the attendant. He is always in the ether near you. All you have to do is open your heart and your mind to receive him. It is so easy in a world today, full of Maya to dismiss his presence and essence and to fall into despair. Resist the temptation to be a Western Setting Sun Person. You must ascribe to being an Eastern Rising Sun Warrior. Take back your life and your control! Do not be in the whim and wind of a deluded society out of touch with the true essence of being. To be a Warrior you must summon courage, conviction and fortitude. Where will I find these things you ask? Like Dorothy in the Wizard Of Oz, it is already within you. Your father bestowed your grace upon you as child of this world. When you were young you looked to the Heavens and the Stars and dreamed of the Great Deeds and Heroic Exploits you would perform. Where have your dreams and aspirations gone? Gone with the struggles of Daily Living! Do not be a Person of short vision. One again rise up and cultivate your Greatness. It has never left you. What has left you is your belief in yourself to accomplish the goals you set out to achieve. Meditate, read Great Works of Literature. Find a way to go the extra mile! A Great Quote from My Guru Parmahansa Yogananda, (Be A Smile Millionaire.) Joy is infectious!</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;"><span style="word-spacing: 1px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;"><span style="word-spacing: 1px;"><a href="https://youtu.be/yPOSBUVU86M?si=2wgDkBrmZTLl7OuP">Question Of Balance- The Moody Blues</a><br /></span></span></div><div><span data-originalcomputedfontsize="16" data-removefontsize="true" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 1rem; text-size-adjust: auto; word-spacing: 1px;"><i><br /></i></span></div>Write My Fire, Inc.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08627250404716616697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8324236056331397656.post-78317078680200616492023-10-14T06:43:00.003-07:002023-10-14T07:58:38.805-07:00 177-For The Middle East Conflict<p><span style="font-size: medium;"> <span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Times New Roman";">Upon the Ocean’s Breezes</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Listen!</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> The ocean breezes are beckoning across the Isle Ellis.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">They are calling extraordinary artisans accustomed to nature listening.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">Apres’ her lady’s commissioning to let our collective lights shine</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">brighter than the torch lit for Liberty,</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">let our collective voices be raised</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">for all of Humanity,</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">crying from the ocean’s depths of Peasantries,</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">combating the silence of indifference,</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">armed with swords of insignificance,</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">to stem the rising tides of American Armageddons.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">Turning back the raging seas</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">of Radical Extremism’s blasphemies</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">spewing from the cauldrons</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">tended by the World’s Aristocr</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">a<span style="color: black;">cies,</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">beckoning across the sea of mediocrity.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> From the Belly of the Beast</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">Once,</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">I stood strong and tall</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">atop America’s highest mountain peak.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">Turning I faced Mecca toward the East,</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">to my eyes came this vision of a holocaust</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">that brought me to my knees.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">Touching the very depths of my soul.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">I saw the American Armada’s storming the seven seas.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">Hear my voice ring, for truth and freedom for the children!</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">To every nation’s mountain peaks,</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> from the depths of the belly of the beast!</span></span></p>Write My Fire, Inc.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08627250404716616697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8324236056331397656.post-15847123551402792532023-10-04T20:09:00.005-07:002023-10-06T07:03:36.905-07:00176-Exploring The Art Of Collaboration <p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #221a17; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">My collaboration began when I was attending writing classes at Union College in Schenectady, New York in the early 1980’s. To keep living expenses down I rented an apartment in Niskayuna, New York from my musician friend. We would often sit on the porch evenings and he would play music and I would write poetry. (Although I learned to endure the late evening renditions of Peter Gabriel's, Red Rain to all hours. ) It was only natural that we began collaborating together, not only did we collaborate on songs, but we have been fortunate enough to finish a book of short stories and a novel. Our short story The Lure of the Mountain King was awarded an honorable mention in the 57<sup>th</sup> Writer’s Digest Contest in the General Fiction Category. We have over the years drifted apart but I have lately dusted off our early collaborations and began submitting the work. Hope you enjoy the completed Ballad. (Check Out My Stories and The Lure Of The Mountain King Novel.)</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #221a17; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> <a href="https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=gordon+grey+music">Gordon Grey Music</a></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Times New Roman";">Albert Bianchine</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Times New Roman";">The Ballad Of Tom Dillon</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">A blinding blizzard beckons me</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">in to Steamboat Springs.</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">I arrive on the last greyhound from Vail.</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">My pockets full of snowflakes</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">a lonesome geyser’s Steamboat whistle wails</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">always hiding, never tears to a cowboy’s eye.</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">Lord don’t let me be forsaken</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">the Baron’s have already taken</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">America by rail.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">My darling I grow weary</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">often lost without a home</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">but you know I’ll keep on searchin</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">these mountain trails alone.</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">I wander through green valleys</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">across the prairies</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">past the village’s</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">farms and fields</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">out beyond the concrete illusions</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">where the Rocky Mountains pierce</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">the aqua skies.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">I find solace in the seclusion</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">of another winter’s season</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">another mountain to ski</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">as long as he will lay</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">fresh powder down for me.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">While you seek your fortune</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">or search the world for fame</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">be careful what you wish for</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">because when darkness falls upon you</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">you’ll be wailing out his name.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">Ski through barren aspens</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">see the forests through the pines</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">sitting on my golden perch</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">am I crying out in vain?</span><br /><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">Sometimes you awake to find</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">you get what you need</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">other times you take what you can get</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">it is from the children </span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">they take everything.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">Now I found that I possess this light</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">from these mountains that I bring.</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">My gift is in my words</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">and for the children</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">I’ll let them ring.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">Go and tell everyone,</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">silence is a snowflake falling</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">until they hear me calling</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">to all the children I will sing.</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">Never take the last of anything.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">These days I’m a city</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">pretty girl painted</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">street wizard inside my poems.</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">My freedom</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">most men will never know</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">never having been wary</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">of wooden box stables</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">fabled to contain rainbows.</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">Someday, when their hair turns grey</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">their youth will have faded away</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">with the colors that lost their shine.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">The all American Gazebo Band</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Times New Roman";">plays behind the new red white and corporate blue</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">flag that flies against the changing hues.</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">Another rock opera story</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">of old glory, and a town without its name.</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">Somewhere in time, the poet’s rhyme</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">makes a cosmic connection.</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">Then the Seer Sayers arrive on Stages</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">and History endures the ages.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">As a simple man who dreams</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">beyond the Apple Tree Lane</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">he sees a sunrise within her eyes.</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">Then the hobo dude</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">plays Howard Hughes</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">attempting to fill Dylan’s shoes</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">to find out why they came.</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">But in disgrace, he falls from grace</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">to understand success</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">is not what they claim.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">Listen Children</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium;">to a Thorn Bird shrilly singing</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">this truth you’ve heard</span><br /><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial;">from a poet and his strings.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #221a17; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">The name of Steamboat Springs is thought to have originated around the early 1800s when French trappers thought they heard the chugging sound of a steamboat’s steam engine. The sound turned out to be a natural mineral spring, to be named the Steamboat Spring.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #221a17; font-family: "Times New Roman";">In 1909, the railroad arrived, which sparked a boom for the commercial industry in Steamboat Springs. Ranching was the primary industry of the valley and the cattle ranchers turned the new railroad depot into one of the largest cattle shipping centers of the West. Consequently, the construction of the railroad silenced the Steamboat Spring’s chugging noise forever.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">City of Steamboat Springs Website</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p align="center" style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">Trading Trinkets, Tall Tales, Telling Lies</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">Downtown any town’s Main street</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">this town, down</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">passed a shellacked shiny brass handled</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">carved crescent moon wooden door of</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">“The Ancient Mariner”</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">across the street from an old fashioned Bijou</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">sequenced white bulb Marquee</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">Flashing, “Fiddler on the Roof.”</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">Butted by a brand new brown concrete, steel, Lake Placid Hilton</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">descending down two flights</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">of green canopied wooden stairs.</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">“The Artist’s Café”</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">lapped white waves of Mirror Lake</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">reflecting the lights of “The Cottage”</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">and the excitement of the 1980 Winter Olympics</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">across from the Lake Placid Club</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">its walls filled with the owner’s original art</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">bustling buxom waitresses.</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">Comrade Ivan leaping to his feet</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">touching my pins from Solitude and Brighton</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">would I care to trade for his shiny Soviet bears</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">slapping him on the back saying,</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">“certainly mine were worth a bit more, perhaps</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">one, possibly two martini’s.”</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">Telling tales till they became martooni’s</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">The bustling waitress asking,</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Was I, could I be, an Olympic Athlete?”</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">Me smiling devilishly saying,</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Why, yes,</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">would she,</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">care to come to my room.</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">to view my gold medals from Europe.</span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; line-height: 16.2pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 20px; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in;"><span style="color: black; line-height: 27px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> <wbr></wbr> To Winter My Revenge</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I had once</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">so long ago it seems</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">enjoyed the cool aroma</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">tasted the nectar sweet</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">of personal destiny achieved</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">These Words!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">So at last I come to understand</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">after all these travels</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">all these achievements</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">that most men only dream…</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I’ve been wasting the years</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">trying to go back</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">rolling the bitter ugly taste</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">over and over</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">my tired palette</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Reliving is not Life”</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I am… To tell this tale</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">… to pound one nail</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria;"><span style="font-size: medium;">… to Winter My Revenge</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt;">.</span> </p><p><a href="https://youtu.be/FkLTwX0duY4?si=z1-S2ygbVmGPWwUi">Red Rain, Peter Gabriel</a><br /></p>Write My Fire, Inc.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08627250404716616697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8324236056331397656.post-29078423446592458772023-09-27T18:30:00.006-07:002024-02-08T14:06:42.160-08:00175- Ask Mrs. Peach? Should I Run For The Office Of The Presidency?<p><span style="font-size: medium;"> <span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Ask Mrs. Pete Peach?</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0BOsSfmu6ypcinHTdzrFf8bjgrhY4CO7SHIwtdfQ4tW-vBmiXJ_BviPpvEEMqyhs-yKfrEq7ZkUjlBElanSu91DV-BzfdzGZmOF0g9FZcfaMar-Owmf9Bazgo0daXlW19XOQSRvQlbAXhr0y94PVAJcNcr-1sCoxbKz7cgEA3BDDpeu6N-hPombFVKB1G/s1614/FullSizeRender.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1614" data-original-width="1469" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0BOsSfmu6ypcinHTdzrFf8bjgrhY4CO7SHIwtdfQ4tW-vBmiXJ_BviPpvEEMqyhs-yKfrEq7ZkUjlBElanSu91DV-BzfdzGZmOF0g9FZcfaMar-Owmf9Bazgo0daXlW19XOQSRvQlbAXhr0y94PVAJcNcr-1sCoxbKz7cgEA3BDDpeu6N-hPombFVKB1G/s320/FullSizeRender.jpeg" width="291" /></a></span></div><p><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: large;">This is a work of Satirical Nature from the mind of a Champagne Toy Poodle and does not reflect on any factual nature regarding the named Individuals and should not be construed as such.</span></p><p><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><div class="a3s aiL" id=":bp" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: 1.5; overflow: hidden;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="a3s aiL" id=":bp" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: 1.5; overflow: hidden;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Dear Mrs. Peach,</span></div><div class="a3s aiL" id=":bp" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: 1.5; overflow: hidden;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>As you may well have noticed the coming Presidential Elections are becoming somewhat of a serious matter. </span><span>The fate of our nation (I dare say the World!) hang in the balance. These are the ever dangerous times of confusion, disillusion, deceit and trickery. I have steadfastly declared that I have no intentions of running for the office of the President of the United States of America. My time in the White House with Barack is well documented and I have spoken at great length regarding the pitfalls and actual perils of the position and sequestration it entails. There is a growing movement among many in power to persuade me to step forward and toss my hat into the ring. The climate of American Politics is that of derisive antagonistic bickering and backstabbing that has little or nothing to do with Politics. There is a great deal of posturing and chest pounding, decrying their philosophies. What would your sage advice be regarding this matter? </span></span></div><div class="a3s aiL" id=":bp" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: 1.5; overflow: hidden;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Yours in Indecision,</span></div><div class="a3s aiL" id=":bp" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: 1.5; overflow: hidden;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Michelle Obama</span></div><div class="a3s aiL" id=":bp" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: 1.5; overflow: hidden;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="a3s aiL" id=":bp" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: 1.5; overflow: hidden;"><span style="font-size: medium;">My Dearest Michelle,</span></div><div class="a3s aiL" id=":bp" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: 1.5; overflow: hidden;"><span style="font-size: medium;">My I first take a moment and Thank You and your Husband Barack Obama for your dedication and service to the American People. </span></div><div class="a3s aiL" id=":bp" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: 1.5; overflow: hidden;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This is very difficult as the line between personal sacrifice and sacrifice for the betterment of society looms large. You are trained and prepared for the job with your education and former background there is no denying your competency. Especially concerning the major economical and socio-economical challenges we are facing. Dare I mention Eagle Pass and the Border fiasco looming large. I truly believe that you, especially as a woman accustomed to creating solutions rather than excuses could focus your attention on the issue. Razor wire and those large floaty things do not come immediately to mind when I think of your thought processes. A new Ellis Island type Immigration Station, where qualified immigrants could be welcomed and moved to facilities set up for training and qualification orientation. Developing their desire to help America and become a productive member of the working class to insure a future for their family and our nation.</span></div><div class="a3s aiL" id=":bp" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: 1.5; overflow: hidden;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="a3s aiL" id=":bp" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: 1.5; overflow: hidden;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The singularly greatest consideration would be the question of Divine Destiny. Only you, after deep soul searching could decide if you are ready to accept the role your have been Divinely prepared for. Do you step forward at great risk and peril? The American Nation, dare I say, the Entire World is looking for a leader of Great Moral Standing and Fortitude who will stand up against Falsehood, and Blasphemy. You alone are the keeper of your thoughts where your families safety and well being is concerned. The road would not be and easy one. Your calmness and insight is desperately needed and lacking in our Present Leaders and World Geo-Political Systems. May you be Supremely Guided in your most difficult hour.</span></div><div class="a3s aiL" id=":bp" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: 1.5; overflow: hidden;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Sincerely,</span></div><div class="a3s aiL" id=":bp" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: 1.5; overflow: hidden;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Mrs. Pete Peach</span></div><div class="a3s aiL" id=":bp" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: 1.5; overflow: hidden;"><span style="font-size: medium;">P.S. Your wonderful husband would make an incredible First Man. He could sing to me anytime! (I-I am so in love with him!)</span></div>Write My Fire, Inc.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08627250404716616697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8324236056331397656.post-60908178187870563352023-09-24T06:24:00.005-07:002023-12-16T11:55:24.241-08:00174- Uncle Albert's Mountain-The Beginning (Never Is A Long Time))<p> <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"> Formatting Needed- </span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"> The skier silently slices his way through the deep soft powder, cutting across the top of Arapahoe Basin's summit. He tucks into a ball and rushes headlong down the mountain. Gathering more speed as the steepness increases and prepares him for the transition as he reaches the steep upgrade that leads along the massive headwall and up to the entrance to Lover’s Leap and the Palavachini. Gathering speed he crosses the Pali and begins his decent down the front-side of the mountain. He is deep into the trees and there is deafening silence except for the whooshing of the snow and occasional clacking of his skis. The bright orange Avalanche Danger signs and ropes closing off the trail become visible and he slides to a halt alongside them. Checking back over his shoulder for a patrolman he reaches down, lifts the rope and slips under.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Tom Dillion looks down the trail and sees the skier cut the out of bounds markers. He quickly sets his sights down the trail and lets his skis run downhill and gathers momentum as he rushes headlong toward the figure.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Hey! Hey! That trail is closed! What the hell do you think you’re up to?” Tom slides to a halt, his skis sliding against the pile of snow gathering against the edges. “You shouldn’t have been in there, the patrol closed it for a reason,” Tom’s indignation at the audacity of the errant skier is apparent in his tone.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“I was going down a ways and going to cut across through the trees back to the Pali.”</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“That’s no excuse to cut a closed trail. Wait, Wait I recognize you, Joe the mountain owner warned you off the trail yesterday. You’ve got to get out of there before something bad happens. It’s not worth it, trust me, I was in a slide once and you have no control over nature. It will take you and the entire mountainside along with the trees down. You need to get out of there and you need to do it now.”</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">The skier mumbles something unintelligible, slides under the ropes and slowly starts away. Tom turns and heads back down the hill, not looking back. Seeing Tom disappear the skier turns ducks back under the Out of Bounds rope and signs and skied off down the hill. He cut across an open snowfield and turns quickly along the trees of Lover’s Leap. Silently above him a large fracture appeares in the hillside several hundred yards back. An enormous slab breaks free and a wall of snow starts moving toward the unaware figure. Laughing out loud over his stroke of good fortune and newfound powder stash, he slips silently in and out of the Aspen trees as if they were racing gates. Carrying more speed than would be safe in the thickening pines he careens haphazardly back out into the open field. Suddenly he feels a wet stinging on the back of his neck and sees the snow rising up around his legs and thighs. Too late, he realizes he is in a massive avalanche and is overcome by the large wall of snow boulders and slabs. Both of his legs snap and he is tossed dangerously down the grade. The safety avalanche airbag inflates and he rises to the top of the snow as it carries him careening down the slope. It begins to settle and harden like cement around him. He has fallen hundreds of feet and can hardly see the ribbon of macadam that is Route Six as it heads up to A-Basin’s parking lot and up and over the Divide. Slowly agonizingly he claws, scratches and pulls his way along the trail until he is fifty feet from the roadside. Looking down the road he sees a car driving up the hill. He lets out a guttural scream and in desperation raises his arm in an attempt to signal for help. The car drives by unaware of the urgent need of the skier.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p>Write My Fire, Inc.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08627250404716616697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8324236056331397656.post-18573366938782725372023-09-20T13:30:00.003-07:002023-09-20T14:09:37.165-07:00173-Once Upon A Time<p> <span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><img alt="facebook_749061950.jpg" class="CToWUd a6T" data-bit="iit" data-image-whitelisted="" height="316" src="https://mail.google.com/mail/u/0?ui=2&ik=a2aa550c81&attid=0.1&permmsgid=msg-a:r4656220887743190260&th=18a9a431bbb17d18&view=fimg&fur=ip&sz=s0-l75-ft&attbid=ANGjdJ8cThBIkDBmz3x9UAi9xNEkiswIaB9OE1fur4g502SKChQ_lOxYn6geyp6Ha6QmwQRajCQYt406HLQwF3y9KJGVRqZbBgJtABNQEaGXn4yAzo_bSCiIWbk3rps&disp=emb&realattid=ii_lmkz93760" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; cursor: pointer; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; outline: 0px;" tabindex="0" width="472" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: small;"></span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 18pt;">Once Upon A Time------</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><span style="color: #454545; font-size: 13.5pt;"> I dwelled upon a Mountain in a Land of a Thousand Suns. They were Great Rising Suns and I had a beautiful wife. She was the most beautiful woman in the land of light. Her name was Mom and we would rescue abused horses and heal them and set them free. We taught other people from all over the land to Rescue Horses. They were giants and we would sit in the evenings and watch the suns set, but it was never dark for long because a new sun was always rising. We would listen to the thundering hooves as they ran wild up the mountain. The setting suns lights were so bright that when the horses galloped they would glow fiery orange. It was a land of peace and harmony and there were no evil warlords because all the good nations put a stop to the last bad warlords (Mr. Strump’s) childish tantrum's because like Humpty Dumpty he couldn’t put his nation back together again after its great fall. And that's a good story right!</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDpG61nvAcEd9TOkjhLl456C5AnVRfhv7h4p_WYJ7Bl_luKOR2zH-gVECGam-gPNbysk0ceXEgjiTPmY6E3VK3hW9Bkc3YHI6FbRuSwhPG1m6hW6TdP_2xuFRbiiv0RwXbskfiWdan_vsoq-9b5wfzKVM_pGFC6Sru6iQZuRhHIJV-XIRJZ59OCCmxSg-v/s1080/unnamed-7.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="807" data-original-width="1080" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDpG61nvAcEd9TOkjhLl456C5AnVRfhv7h4p_WYJ7Bl_luKOR2zH-gVECGam-gPNbysk0ceXEgjiTPmY6E3VK3hW9Bkc3YHI6FbRuSwhPG1m6hW6TdP_2xuFRbiiv0RwXbskfiWdan_vsoq-9b5wfzKVM_pGFC6Sru6iQZuRhHIJV-XIRJZ59OCCmxSg-v/s320/unnamed-7.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt;">PETE In Hunt</span><p></p><div><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt;">Good Story Dad!</span></div><div><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt;"><a href="https://youtu.be/zmrikpTw8ok?si=4_lCed9pwaidCaEM">Humpty Dumpty-Aztec Two Step</a><br /></span></div>Write My Fire, Inc.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08627250404716616697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8324236056331397656.post-42503831328526602172023-08-24T04:09:00.010-07:002023-08-29T18:52:07.188-07:00172-Life Works Itself Out My original vision for my collection of short stories, novel, and screenplay along with my blogs was to assemble a cross section of Americana using the Ski mountains of North America, National Forests, and American Topics as a background, and make them available to the people of other countries. The collection could then be published in conjunction with the Winter Olympics which are held every four years. The <a href="https://olympics.com/en/news/milano-cortina-2026-top-things-to-know-about-next-olympic-winter-games">2026 Winter Olympics</a> are going to be held in Milan-Cortina in Italy. Cortina is the Pearl of the Dolomites befitting for the Mountain Pearl. It is also the climbing and skiing Mecca of the world. There will be 3500 Olympic and Para-olympic athletes from 93 Countries. The Olympic Logo can be obtained through the Olympic Organizing Committee and used to market the book as a promotion it can also be a part of the Olympians swag bags.The book can then be published in a multitude of languages. Since the Olympics are held every four years in seems to me that the work would be able to published in perpetuity. I believe my vision to be solid and commercially marketable.<br />
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The 2030 Winter Olympics could possibly be awarded to Salt Lake City , Utah, will see the publication of the history of Arapahoe Basin in Colorado followed by or in conjunction with a screen play of the same topic. It will open up all of America to Publication. (Great Right!) The history of my blog seems to show and is trending in Singapore, Russia, Romania, France, Hong Kong, Turkey, United Kingdom, Canada and the United States. It shows a desire on the part of people in other countries to know more about American Mountains.<div><br /></div><div>The Demand for my stories and blogs have motivated me to move The Lure of the Mountain King and My other blogs to book form quicker. A trilogy has emerged unexpectedly and it must be addressed. If you take into account the self-published poems there are four books. I suppose some of the other work would be considered chap books and would make for passing them out preferable to a volume.The Lure, In Search of the Mountain Pearl and Of Mountains and Men is posted but needs rewriting. I would appreciated input about the writing and how to improve it. Please feel free to follow and post your thoughts as they are very important to me. My goal is to reach the Olympics and to bring my quest for Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness to the world through Americana and freedoms that only we as Americans can Know. Help if you can! Look under (My Pages.)<br />
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I am not sure how to accomplish this and am hoping to gain in put or support from others to help promote my work. Until then I hope that you are enjoying this journey as much as I.</div><div><a href="https://youtu.be/-iwLvmPUEo4?si=QQM-j_mnMKgtJQXZ">Ball Of Confusion- The Temptations</a><br /></div>Write My Fire, Inc.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08627250404716616697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8324236056331397656.post-78324950602060537002023-08-19T17:01:00.008-07:002023-08-22T13:49:23.126-07:00171-Characterization of the Senator<p> The Senator: John Blackwell</p><p>Age: 52</p><p>Physical Attributes: Soft, out of shape, puffy, drinks too much, overbearing, demeaning and abrasive.</p><p>Inherited wealth and expects the world to bend to his needs and wants.</p><p>The Senator has to be lovable in a sick way. If you cannot Love the Senator than it will be impossible to Hate him. He wants to control the entire Dillon Valley up to the Continental Divide. Although it is National Forest Property he wants to be able to strip mine Loveland Pass and the Arapahoe Basin for Molybdenum. He wants to be able to sell his mined minerals to foreign actors and will use his connections to change the status of the National Forest to mineable land. Needs to be characterized as dastardly.</p><p><a href="https://youtu.be/rqk_blhpHRI">Maha Mantra, Krishna Das, (Hare Krishna)</a><br /></p>Write My Fire, Inc.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08627250404716616697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8324236056331397656.post-42531939002887838052023-08-17T10:20:00.006-07:002023-08-22T13:50:18.230-07:00170- A Journey Into New Horizons<p> <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Begin at the Beginning</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Screenplay: No Working Title</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Year: 1978</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> (Resort Community Threatened By Greedy Developing Senator)</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> <wbr></wbr> Main Character Portrayal</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Thomas (Tom) Dillion : age twenty-five</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Height about six feet</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Ruggedly handsome young man</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Drifter, and Loner</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Never cements enduring relationships</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Possibly afraid of commitment always moving never very stable</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He is embittered by early experiences (Had returned from the Vietnam War totally disaffected by it. He withdrew from society by going to live on a farm in western New York State. His activism in anti-American Politics causes him to lose the renewal on his operating loan and he loses the farm)</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Embittered and totally disgusted with society in general.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He leaves and makes his way to the highest lift serviced mountain in North America to challenge himself and possibly die in the challenge. He has not lost the will to live or fight, on the contrary, he is a warrior of the highest degree. He wants to be left alone, with no responsibility in life.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Consciously he blames society for the loss of his beloved farm and he wants to challenge nature.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He cannot turn a blind eye to the advancement of the Senator and rape of what he considers to be the American Dream.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://youtu.be/7MwplKjk_O0">Pretty Boy Floyd, The Byrds, Sweet Heart Of The Rodeo</a><br /></span></p>Write My Fire, Inc.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08627250404716616697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8324236056331397656.post-18417168387845873192023-08-13T21:58:00.008-07:002023-08-15T22:09:25.982-07:00169- How to become your own Avatar of Change<p><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Ching-Book-Changes-Turning-Essential/dp/1250209056/ref=sr_1_1_sspa?crid=3LD3LW8797HXJ&keywords=i+ching+book+of+changes&qid=1692036766&s=books&sprefix=The+I+ching%2Cstripbooks%2C212&sr=1-1-spons&sp_csd=d2lkZ2V0TmFtZT1zcF9hdGY&psc=1">I Ching, The Book Of Changes</a> </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Conforming, the small succeed; it is beneficial to have somewhere to go, and it is beneficial to see great people.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">OVERALL JUDGEMENT</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Double conformity is used to express reposition of directions. Strength conforms to balance and correctness, so what is willed is carried out in action. The weak all go along with the strong, so this is why the small succeed, profiting from seeing great people.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">IMAGE</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Following wind represents conformity. Cultured people repeat directions to get things done.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">COMPONENTS</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">1 yin. When going forward and backward, it is helpful to be as steadfast as a soldier. IMAGE Going forward and backward means one's purpose is wavering. It is helpful to be as stead fast as a soldier, meaning that one's purpose is settled.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">2 yang When conformity is more lowly than normal, it bodes well to use intermediaries a lot, so there will be no blame. IMAGE A lot bodes well, that is provided you attain balance. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">3 yang Repetitious conformity is embarrassing. IMAGE The embarrassment of repetitious conformity is frustration.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">4 yin When regret disappears, you catch three kinds of game on a hunt. IMAGE Catching three kinds of game on a hunt means something is successfully accomplished.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">5 yang It bodes well to be steadfast and true; regret vanishes, and it is advantageous all around. Though there is no beginning, there is a conclusion. It bodes well to be careful before a change and reflective after a change. IMAGE What bodes well for the strong in this position is to be correctly balanced.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">6 yang When conformity is more lowly than normal, you lose your resources and tools, so it is unlucky even if you are steadfast. IMAGE If conformity is more lowly than normal, one is helpless in a position of leadership, the loss of ones's resources and tools is indeed a bad setback.</span></p><p>I CHING-CHANGES</p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Conformity of and in itself is not the answer. Is it better to conform and make change from within or to stand without and affect change from a distance? One must decide their own path regarding change. In the times that we are presented with, any such normalcy is a thing of the distant path. My intuition tells me that change from within no matter how obscure is far superior to being labeled as (Woke) enlightened or awake and ridiculed. Your platform is then lessened and given no substance of thought or purpose other than dismissal. To be a heretic on the outside is of no purpose to affecting change. Your message will be far more readily received to be of the mass or the whole and to move the mass slowly to your goal. The real issue is the apparent lack of time. Does the heretic affect any movement in thought by direct confrontation? Do you make any movement of pervading thought by suggestion? Are great movements of thought and dynamic change of will and direction wrought without challenging present thought? By labeling opponents and generalizing and dismissing your platform you are selectively being disarmed by your opponent and rendered inconsequential as a movement. The very audacity of banning works of thought and mind and art are of great consequence in the battle of good vs. evil. These practices cannot be allowed to continue. The enlightenment of thought must be protected. It is no longer up to the next great Avatar to awaken humanity. We must all strive to be our own Avatar and bring our own enlightenment to as many as are willing to listen and affect necessary change to awaken a sleeping humanity. However the change or movement must be rooted in a desire to enhance or strengthen a society and wrought out of love and compassion. Hatred and violence has no place in change. It serves only to lose one's soul. Align your will with Divine Will and Destiny, your own personal Destiny is waiting for you to step forward and claim your Victory!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://youtu.be/jiU2lrGnT7U">If You Could Read My Mind, Gordon Lightfoot, Gord's Gold</a><br /></span></p>Write My Fire, Inc.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08627250404716616697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8324236056331397656.post-47930652768781026812023-08-08T19:38:00.025-07:002024-01-18T06:21:28.079-08:00168- Where To Now Saint Francis?<p><i> <span style="font-size: medium;">The Birthday of Krishna is celebrated according to the Indian Lunar calendar. It falls on the eighth day of the waning moon between mid-August and mid September.</span></i></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> He who perceives Me everywhere, and beholds everything in Me, never loses sight of Me, nor do I ever lose sight of him.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> That yogi stays forever in Me, who, anchored in divine unity whatever his mode of existence, realizes Me as pervading all beings.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> O Arjuna, the best type of yogi is he who feels for others, whether in grief or pleasure, even as he feels for himself--<i> Bhagavan Krishna, in the "Bhagavad Gita"</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Spiritual Diary- Self Realization Fellowship</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><i> </i>The Conclusion of Self Realization Fellowship, World Convocation in Los Angeles 2023 and the subsequent closing talk and Meditation by Brother Chidananda was inspiring and extremely moving. Do not be lost of this World and it's Maya. There is light and light bringing beings among you. Do not despair over the World situations that you have no control over. Control your Heart, Mind and Your Thoughts. Bring the Positive Light of Divine Love of Gurudev and his Promise of Freedom into your Life. There is a scientific method for achieving Enlightenment and it can be obtained through Kriya Yoga. Life does not have to be uncontrollable and overwhelming find your Peace and Your Tranquility. Do not go another day lost in the confusion that surrounds you in the delusion of everyday life. Be a smile millionaire and controller of your own thoughts and wellness.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Autobiography-of-Yogi-Ben-Kingsley-audiobook/dp/B0006IU7LS/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2H2FO1JCP0YM1&keywords=autobiography+of+a+yogi&qid=1691547347&s=books&sprefix=Autobiography+%2Cstripbooks%2C225&sr=1-1">The Autobiography Of A Yogi, Paramahansa Yogananda</a><br /></span></p><p><a href="https://youtu.be/GDGIQLwRWDY">Night Right For Love, A Bigger Piece Of Sky, Robert Earl Keen</a><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-aTdVis3CjlvM7gMSodQ9PmmORHW75ZX43w5uLd2PKRUHAhDg_1GzT-6q0A6AEzHgHjNEKeRbEMa4PYiH44RjmVyH2iB9WVZBWqkXIwwUs3T15g6sXoll1wabK9ASEzZ6KFDVXWub_QFr_7zDl8xDRk29M4IfFqeHXtDVLA-1S7bRQ16ixd49ArK-dpLQ/s258/Al%203.bmp" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="163" data-original-width="258" height="203" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-aTdVis3CjlvM7gMSodQ9PmmORHW75ZX43w5uLd2PKRUHAhDg_1GzT-6q0A6AEzHgHjNEKeRbEMa4PYiH44RjmVyH2iB9WVZBWqkXIwwUs3T15g6sXoll1wabK9ASEzZ6KFDVXWub_QFr_7zDl8xDRk29M4IfFqeHXtDVLA-1S7bRQ16ixd49ArK-dpLQ/w320-h203/Al%203.bmp" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;">The Lucky Dun Ranch a 1940's Sears Kit Home over a 1890's log cabin on 130 acres.</span><div><span style="clear: left; float: left; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="279" data-original-width="257" height="279" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ-bkU12A0jZFHZ4MgpU8C5RSrWYGr9Jw2fKbjzW1tIecvVLwRteh1uxKHB1EgiojgrKufN-3KcGiKKbhmBXJj6UazIt-iEHH1aFqfJNAkE597aGupekIsO7ZRDxzdW48z4qsYXzaqVeWHFCifubCKcxj6VKuVrZ967QJ3KISwZ5vmJOUsZI6JjPvsEV3g/s1600/1915684_102245429798233_4666957_n.jpg" width="257" /></span><br /><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Snowy (Sonny) A Rescue with Buddy from White Hawk Outfitters</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOntQWtyyxlAJsSxAuv7G_wnox3Ji48CJDOjBrO0dG1FdDK7ybTb3EfDa9n_61XnR_tym15SsjMQ-laxzqxeokvRt7kHrfD_-sn1Ixr4WmGpGAy9FELolBazuljmz5E0-N28BNURAcIBx62hd41fDBGP3YubRnUc4iU6hPMzXYvbrjO6kihdaDr9AL0v1e/s258/unnamed-4.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="173" data-original-width="258" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOntQWtyyxlAJsSxAuv7G_wnox3Ji48CJDOjBrO0dG1FdDK7ybTb3EfDa9n_61XnR_tym15SsjMQ-laxzqxeokvRt7kHrfD_-sn1Ixr4WmGpGAy9FELolBazuljmz5E0-N28BNURAcIBx62hd41fDBGP3YubRnUc4iU6hPMzXYvbrjO6kihdaDr9AL0v1e/w320-h215/unnamed-4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">Boobala Raja (Buddy-A great grandson of Poco Bueno) Foreground Rescue from the Winter Hawk Outfitters were he packed the Big Cats out of the Trips</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Sage (His Wife) Rescue from a breeding operation of miniatures where she was stall bound.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">King and Queen</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">At Rest</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf0lcV0APilrro1GvXdVZQTeMxoxq94JQNpSIqXiycOht0HIgqlwPXzKJlAohL4vrs63PauxQDjt7Ywm5o7ZLVIJg6xtmXhE2qGVY_1ix7-nD8pWOIGUckavJRdqo6Kd5jBBWQmHaSI1vagu8Dh-8n1BmLVLqt7792xYRKBDbTMHxNm1NlEy0ZL_hw2-rQ/s319/227.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="319" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf0lcV0APilrro1GvXdVZQTeMxoxq94JQNpSIqXiycOht0HIgqlwPXzKJlAohL4vrs63PauxQDjt7Ywm5o7ZLVIJg6xtmXhE2qGVY_1ix7-nD8pWOIGUckavJRdqo6Kd5jBBWQmHaSI1vagu8Dh-8n1BmLVLqt7792xYRKBDbTMHxNm1NlEy0ZL_hw2-rQ/s1600/227.jpg" width="319" /></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;">Sid and Sam at work at the Pine Creek Cookhouse, Aspen. The Elk Creek Range and Electric Pass.</span><br /><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaAHLeS9zciaFltBLDMo2bFuTzXa3_OxmXdqhjcsPGnxU9PEA7e-m9wMlKoV42rQ_IZ7eU7_5ZWf84fHXmxUg3xHW_DAHeSK3ZK6iyDHP1Gk_ZFm5Xk_u2pkPg1htvZrdBmvl1dSX50XvnXhYV_pYX7q_ToO26WMgNv9yHFWG6iSOwMBcXBhpckBbCkRVt/s169/Copy%20of%20Sage%20Before.bmp" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="136" data-original-width="169" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaAHLeS9zciaFltBLDMo2bFuTzXa3_OxmXdqhjcsPGnxU9PEA7e-m9wMlKoV42rQ_IZ7eU7_5ZWf84fHXmxUg3xHW_DAHeSK3ZK6iyDHP1Gk_ZFm5Xk_u2pkPg1htvZrdBmvl1dSX50XvnXhYV_pYX7q_ToO26WMgNv9yHFWG6iSOwMBcXBhpckBbCkRVt/w320-h257/Copy%20of%20Sage%20Before.bmp" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;">Sage</span><div><span style="font-size: medium;"> First Day at the Ranch Freedom of the Outdoors. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaglbEiBclJ6vymIyr-ol2SbsB9HDDhNkNN8FeAH2Z1xWHnl6VWTvmVlm9Oib-jpFAaLkvT3EgdiAW-2xIV9sLk5huqSO7CLA-zrSoAAnTztzEbI9Nj_YFUjQI1EZqDjqcbVOD2UcLkG-uRyaI2rdwYGAasaHZgZb1Y6Xzi-GzLdzEbN3gK9TtS3v7zk-E/s302/IMG_5726.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="226" data-original-width="302" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaglbEiBclJ6vymIyr-ol2SbsB9HDDhNkNN8FeAH2Z1xWHnl6VWTvmVlm9Oib-jpFAaLkvT3EgdiAW-2xIV9sLk5huqSO7CLA-zrSoAAnTztzEbI9Nj_YFUjQI1EZqDjqcbVOD2UcLkG-uRyaI2rdwYGAasaHZgZb1Y6Xzi-GzLdzEbN3gK9TtS3v7zk-E/s1600/IMG_5726.JPG" width="302" /></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;">Snowy - When he became Cloud to his New Girl and Love of his Life</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTLSvtEI6uhnnZXsAsUh6DjIRek7-cN_5pVT0Ig1RWheOmbWkRguCPisPW-q1ARvll-Dqigc7ekPFvHBmfhPOfMeF1_YhznxE3SwWh6AsfC8GGg-9wTxeZ-BgCDJlGtgUcvxzTehFF98uZEJYrN0hIedfP_zmfc426LBBBq8Fn6uZ8fByNaIw1WWCmpoz8/s1232/IMG_5796.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="816" data-original-width="1232" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTLSvtEI6uhnnZXsAsUh6DjIRek7-cN_5pVT0Ig1RWheOmbWkRguCPisPW-q1ARvll-Dqigc7ekPFvHBmfhPOfMeF1_YhznxE3SwWh6AsfC8GGg-9wTxeZ-BgCDJlGtgUcvxzTehFF98uZEJYrN0hIedfP_zmfc426LBBBq8Fn6uZ8fByNaIw1WWCmpoz8/s320/IMG_5796.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Peace of Heart<br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Horse Hair Poetry</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I wish for my poems </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">to be like horse hairs</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">that catch into your clothing,</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">saddle blankets and brushes</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">that cling and weave</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">into the fabric of your life</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIgMv6z8-jNLxM_-1uU7be3BY5nZOPlrmN6Ze55HSONJwwXRVzfp6SsVZAPpF6KYeOfU0T62RxZzhQWM1lkA8RGWJiGPa2NLHVcC3exFji3vKmMnmSa1nfJL5oU94SZDmGG94Rob82C-4XM57BcVhq0vRzuGX1QB53qLeo2LGBR6fVWFS1QeGfJGvxtGcB/s600/IMG_5797.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIgMv6z8-jNLxM_-1uU7be3BY5nZOPlrmN6Ze55HSONJwwXRVzfp6SsVZAPpF6KYeOfU0T62RxZzhQWM1lkA8RGWJiGPa2NLHVcC3exFji3vKmMnmSa1nfJL5oU94SZDmGG94Rob82C-4XM57BcVhq0vRzuGX1QB53qLeo2LGBR6fVWFS1QeGfJGvxtGcB/s320/IMG_5797.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">Bo- The Buckskin Stallion with his Bride Brooks (Photo Cookie-Buckskin Stallion Station)</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">See My Stories- The Mountain Pearl</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Who were the Storm King 14?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> Also-Lesson 86</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>What WasThe Coal Seam Fire</span><span> ?</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> See- Lesson 84 -Sister's Precious Miracle</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Where to now Saint Peter? Slick Little Fox on the Mountain Pearl</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYpJWh_Yv6SsDllUEmghDqYeFAKpOocPFxjr2kLPWvq0qHw4LkWz4yWhi70JDMgWWE41U6FuwcqCLOC4DMbSo-fAbIn5NLoaBnYkfDMcELqwP05RoZrKx_40hDRGQzhvx72HUZhKF_h8ucA63qsW1UxNntKsoJRmeSg5cv_S-uJHhtAWUNGX7gJDTjIvwn/s1008/Daisy.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1008" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYpJWh_Yv6SsDllUEmghDqYeFAKpOocPFxjr2kLPWvq0qHw4LkWz4yWhi70JDMgWWE41U6FuwcqCLOC4DMbSo-fAbIn5NLoaBnYkfDMcELqwP05RoZrKx_40hDRGQzhvx72HUZhKF_h8ucA63qsW1UxNntKsoJRmeSg5cv_S-uJHhtAWUNGX7gJDTjIvwn/s320/Daisy.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;">Daisy (Our Companion Wife for Jack London-Slick Little Fox's Friend) See Mornings With Jack London and Little Fox on Blog</span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdk7fonbJc7xb00sZNYWTtuFvJjYD-3E8zsl7RXHQEJy0jhhRu8Y1DY4KQo0UVwaSpYV49eU7sYsZZ3jgT2eXu5uNhY-Bf4km-Avdcoc-0uKGNws3lpEPZqcLawJmC67Vt5N83VppjeNAsfN0hpowOPdcV1PICAnVzODqV0K5FhqGso9QK_FDGH7sQOEiM/s720/facebook_749061950.jpg" style="clear: left; display: inline; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="482" data-original-width="720" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdk7fonbJc7xb00sZNYWTtuFvJjYD-3E8zsl7RXHQEJy0jhhRu8Y1DY4KQo0UVwaSpYV49eU7sYsZZ3jgT2eXu5uNhY-Bf4km-Avdcoc-0uKGNws3lpEPZqcLawJmC67Vt5N83VppjeNAsfN0hpowOPdcV1PICAnVzODqV0K5FhqGso9QK_FDGH7sQOEiM/s320/facebook_749061950.jpg" width="320" /></a><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Sage at rest in the loafing shed</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy_pZCGetpn6HciW_aZdSzwS5i0aySl0xS0WTuUdebLRElyzb6hfuR1SpwUiFxiXeGazNiuKaJjecZvhJEcrjI40gpdqCcY9uxNWn-oW8LGC4rnl5KVR6I4596rZLpLs_LABeiBplaSstJ6pX0Dooou2c7HddvaCmQ6vYr1ulzWo-XkHkgESK8wMzLayek/s511/IMG-3983.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="292" data-original-width="511" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy_pZCGetpn6HciW_aZdSzwS5i0aySl0xS0WTuUdebLRElyzb6hfuR1SpwUiFxiXeGazNiuKaJjecZvhJEcrjI40gpdqCcY9uxNWn-oW8LGC4rnl5KVR6I4596rZLpLs_LABeiBplaSstJ6pX0Dooou2c7HddvaCmQ6vYr1ulzWo-XkHkgESK8wMzLayek/s320/IMG-3983.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;">Sid and Sam at Rest<br /></span><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Retired</span></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu4OZHHdVj-nlYAgBgSfaOW0Gm2ty0dMjxmYmM7eEwkQR294_S3vd2HwZ6nFt_KOqgg7Sn1L2iVyBB12YzjXcXlxT7JEXPAeLzB7WhULcAS3tB91YzK85wtLESp_s4re7a_2Rrx6un9jqB--bXgvRpQ_DM3XVR8vrXuTL-EfJQ-1DgeLa8SnILuJmgLyO6/s280/0.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="203" data-original-width="280" height="203" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu4OZHHdVj-nlYAgBgSfaOW0Gm2ty0dMjxmYmM7eEwkQR294_S3vd2HwZ6nFt_KOqgg7Sn1L2iVyBB12YzjXcXlxT7JEXPAeLzB7WhULcAS3tB91YzK85wtLESp_s4re7a_2Rrx6un9jqB--bXgvRpQ_DM3XVR8vrXuTL-EfJQ-1DgeLa8SnILuJmgLyO6/s1600/0.png" width="280" /></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;">Emerald and Pearl with Domnic </span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgYqAFzDztB86Q0AHuFFzk7H-r9GE4KdI2N1Ga2pxnp-DQsGuKG1TDdCQR7nX3a80GQVbcoCp6JVKmfjJKcBRMD9oYjelnhab2nwn2MF66eEN8EZ-aevoT27B6YnEYUC9Z3_-SqsF1LXSV8pPhHCqzwNXvc97v3D9zZZdiL2q1Sh1ztEGKRBCsvXZK0mi5/s1452/Tahoe.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="996" data-original-width="1452" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgYqAFzDztB86Q0AHuFFzk7H-r9GE4KdI2N1Ga2pxnp-DQsGuKG1TDdCQR7nX3a80GQVbcoCp6JVKmfjJKcBRMD9oYjelnhab2nwn2MF66eEN8EZ-aevoT27B6YnEYUC9Z3_-SqsF1LXSV8pPhHCqzwNXvc97v3D9zZZdiL2q1Sh1ztEGKRBCsvXZK0mi5/s320/Tahoe.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;">Tahoe with Al Bianchine</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Being Brushed and Loved for Euthanasia</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">See Lesson 84</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">In Defense of My Lady Tahoe's Honor</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioqg8KZPE2t3PlFs8ImX0CU_-Op2fJ0qP7CbR3R45Tyh0l1HznXctPB9u9LuBnRD1qp7vFtR00l1WhD6AY9Fm1X3g-1lBlp-USwmdzqhWzUyCi_EWx1NvIDcG1eHWS935mbcvqW4HIyz_uqtethKEg_l1OPpt8DgdlvT3t5jofgMfCf2C9zfPxjVaBo64Z/s500/unnamed-1.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="357" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioqg8KZPE2t3PlFs8ImX0CU_-Op2fJ0qP7CbR3R45Tyh0l1HznXctPB9u9LuBnRD1qp7vFtR00l1WhD6AY9Fm1X3g-1lBlp-USwmdzqhWzUyCi_EWx1NvIDcG1eHWS935mbcvqW4HIyz_uqtethKEg_l1OPpt8DgdlvT3t5jofgMfCf2C9zfPxjVaBo64Z/s320/unnamed-1.png" width="228" /></span></a></div><br /></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"> Bo The Buckskin Stallion in Pose<br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4exrFDE71nVQx-2VQyZt19t2va_mUTlYvO9hSRizXiZthksetohQzDMkA00re1mcyI_WIfqCYEHVSVD1XyKgGzABWc7RfN3PXlu93dOkHJIR5Lj8x1wMVb4zSfck8cmtPHlgR4m-y5Q2qfuKvte9CU5nvi9e-ZjNc1_VUNqJGiYhgEbV9CvqcMxluzAzM/s555/unnamed-2.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="394" data-original-width="555" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4exrFDE71nVQx-2VQyZt19t2va_mUTlYvO9hSRizXiZthksetohQzDMkA00re1mcyI_WIfqCYEHVSVD1XyKgGzABWc7RfN3PXlu93dOkHJIR5Lj8x1wMVb4zSfck8cmtPHlgR4m-y5Q2qfuKvte9CU5nvi9e-ZjNc1_VUNqJGiYhgEbV9CvqcMxluzAzM/s320/unnamed-2.png" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;">Al with Bo</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrhw1mUwCznvqdtBW7UxyH_Vl1JAUM_B8J5SdAyesXEz3ZpmK9E6ycwOY6Q-0XWaMDQN855jKx-_OtjUJZ9CKwpxvLv1B-Hszs3P3cvG7WvNrEZjwndRJwgCH99GNO1UpAmyYP_z2O3WOsh1_j0e-ghxu1OmvaZLI7weqcIDh95YmS4mhM7k-74GPpKMwX/s500/unnamed.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="357" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrhw1mUwCznvqdtBW7UxyH_Vl1JAUM_B8J5SdAyesXEz3ZpmK9E6ycwOY6Q-0XWaMDQN855jKx-_OtjUJZ9CKwpxvLv1B-Hszs3P3cvG7WvNrEZjwndRJwgCH99GNO1UpAmyYP_z2O3WOsh1_j0e-ghxu1OmvaZLI7weqcIDh95YmS4mhM7k-74GPpKMwX/s320/unnamed.jpg" width="228" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;">Bo in Pose<br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyoHFiYlVdmrEZIDwLypsc5CFYZOecAkhrZH7fvzUexCT93hWD8vRNxKG9BCraznXQIdysW4Y3a1-hn9Di-klXtSkW3fPOy2nXm85txyNag86mdMhfZZ0pzWoq_3dd2NGbMXk41dnshFtF4_MBViRT34WPngnI6f9kCbWWbLwqwuj0HxK78WN3csIpd8Bh/s1724/unnamed-6.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="1724" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyoHFiYlVdmrEZIDwLypsc5CFYZOecAkhrZH7fvzUexCT93hWD8vRNxKG9BCraznXQIdysW4Y3a1-hn9Di-klXtSkW3fPOy2nXm85txyNag86mdMhfZZ0pzWoq_3dd2NGbMXk41dnshFtF4_MBViRT34WPngnI6f9kCbWWbLwqwuj0HxK78WN3csIpd8Bh/s320/unnamed-6.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;">Dad with Snowy </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>Celebrating their Birthday's</span><br /></span><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKW-fN3oCuwGK8XlUiB-R1oR5TAWDPlpLkXj-UoI-XQxC6yLIL2b92sgn6OPGhKkkDvAaojw7JES_p2gj77WDqn-rirxkNXHbuJHqdVkrYnqRN4DHvrrBfqihzLfen23xzZaomzwIfhRW6a7s-rde7fywggCy8XB4IQtEBZGy2LkC713pnPHZTrwLdYTn3/s500/unnamed-2.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="333" data-original-width="500" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKW-fN3oCuwGK8XlUiB-R1oR5TAWDPlpLkXj-UoI-XQxC6yLIL2b92sgn6OPGhKkkDvAaojw7JES_p2gj77WDqn-rirxkNXHbuJHqdVkrYnqRN4DHvrrBfqihzLfen23xzZaomzwIfhRW6a7s-rde7fywggCy8XB4IQtEBZGy2LkC713pnPHZTrwLdYTn3/s320/unnamed-2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;">Litlle Man</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">A Perlino (Albino)</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>Bo and Brooks Foal</span><br /></span><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Love The Horses</span></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Z--Y3XZBhPUmlbc6f7pBhRlkN-VNxlFVMbpZdywY8GUgNTnX4-FWSO0MrS1tTByXhaIoy5NEhncuGuPr04QBZj7Gh5Kxu99Iszg_Yl2prut2XDhOGG7JhrD4rRp2MMfHTUBFOxk9gHhYrWI8CPjLYhO4gGHNb-T0p8GbFDcfEkHrRNaz5sHhTgV10uUt/s555/facebook_2027801120.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="416" data-original-width="555" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Z--Y3XZBhPUmlbc6f7pBhRlkN-VNxlFVMbpZdywY8GUgNTnX4-FWSO0MrS1tTByXhaIoy5NEhncuGuPr04QBZj7Gh5Kxu99Iszg_Yl2prut2XDhOGG7JhrD4rRp2MMfHTUBFOxk9gHhYrWI8CPjLYhO4gGHNb-T0p8GbFDcfEkHrRNaz5sHhTgV10uUt/s320/facebook_2027801120.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;">Bo </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Surprising the Ranch with Omelette's</span><br /><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Write My Fire</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Where To Now Saint Francis?</span></p><p><br /></p></div></div></div></div>Write My Fire, Inc.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08627250404716616697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8324236056331397656.post-51876461356963729192023-07-30T21:40:00.001-07:002023-07-30T21:51:53.905-07:00167- Self Realization Fellowship World Convocation 2023<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">SUTRA 14</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">Purusha is covered by five kashas or sheaths.</span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">Actions of Love. The action of Repulsion, the manifestation of the Omnipotent Energy, being thus completed, the action of Attraction (the Omnipotent Love in the core of the heart) begins to be manifested. Under the influence of this Omniscient Love, the Attraction, the Atoms, being attracted toward one another, come nearer and nearer, taking ethereal, gaseous, fiery, liquid, and solid forms.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">“<i>The Holy Science.” Swami Sri Yukteswar- Self Realization Fellowship</i></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">When certain beings are together, such as the World Convocation in Los Angeles, the Attraction is great and manifests itself as Divine Love. The ethereal essence of Love, Peace, and Harmony is manifested and then released into the Hearts of the World. This Love is the necessary energy to overcome Maya and repulse the negativity that is pervasive in the world today. During the coming sessions of the Convocation I look forward to the topics to be discussed and enlightenment being offered by Swami Chidananda Giri and the Self Realization Fellowship. Your words and work are a Divine Light in a confused and lost world.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><a href="https://yogananda.org/srf-world-convocation-overview" style="background-color: transparent;">Self Realization Fellowship- World Convocation 2023</a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmIg1bE3DMznCCj3lRFSQJu5dNhAnFOnhf6Y12bAZ0vsI0cNyoFFeWtHNH5-HNb9GqFXn6XRc-oFbTW_KzqkO9MWyCtXf7XcjpJuTkDhY0ETSA4Ys0aVBXdLhH6L9AUSHem-l5X_rMWM7n0vIEpPWrb6HbJmPDcfE4SYedaeNPv5rrYO881-xrIlRSlRdl/s220/dreamstime_12158846.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="220" data-original-width="180" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmIg1bE3DMznCCj3lRFSQJu5dNhAnFOnhf6Y12bAZ0vsI0cNyoFFeWtHNH5-HNb9GqFXn6XRc-oFbTW_KzqkO9MWyCtXf7XcjpJuTkDhY0ETSA4Ys0aVBXdLhH6L9AUSHem-l5X_rMWM7n0vIEpPWrb6HbJmPDcfE4SYedaeNPv5rrYO881-xrIlRSlRdl/w164-h200/dreamstime_12158846.jpg" width="164" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">The Healers of Write My Fire</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><a href="https://youtu.be/b8q0nh4yU8A">Mere Gurudev</a><br /></p>Write My Fire, Inc.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08627250404716616697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8324236056331397656.post-85877958204239721702023-07-27T06:04:00.017-07:002024-01-02T16:07:33.521-08:00166; Uncle Albert's Mountain,(The Lure of the Mountain King) Chapter XXXIII; Until It's Over....<p><span style="font-size: medium;"> <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Sara was sitting at the end of the bar, playing with a long strand of her auburn hair. Her mind was on Tom, she had only a handful of customers, this afternoon. The regulars had been stopping in since noon. Business would be slow until summer season started, and </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman";">would not get busy, until the Autumn winds brought another winter of snow to the Rocky Mountains.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> The front door slowly opened, and a black Stetson appeared. Sara felt her pulse quicken, and the hair on her arms tingle. She quickly stood up and started to wash dishes, glancing blankly at the soapy water. Lifting her hands, she turned them over, the water ripples wrinkled the skin on her fingers.. She realized exactly what she was doing, hiding from Tom, hiding from herself, and the world. Year after year, she stood washing dirty glasses, and listening to others talk about their adventures. She stood at the bar, mixing their drinks and collecting their spare change, to make ends meet.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “If nothing else, he taught you the value of freedom,” she whispered, “ and the courage to spend it.” She pulled the plug on the bar sink and walked to the end to face him.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Hi,” he said cautiously.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Hi,” she smiled, her eyes sparkling as they met his. She grasped his hand and held tightly to his forefingers.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “I’m sorry that all this happened. I was wrong to try and force you into something you weren’t ready for.”</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">Tom looked deeply into her eyes.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “No, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I can’t settle in one place. I’m sorry I have to follow the snow. I long for the mountains, but I want to be with you so much it hurts, when I’m not.” He saw the same spark that was there when they first met. He had never thought it would return.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Listen, I can’t explain my feelings when I’m near you. I’m trying desperately to tell you how much I love you, it's, I’ve got this crazy dream. Maybe I can…”</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">Sara put her fingers to his lips. “I’ll make a deal with you. No more talk of love and marriage and you give me a real taste of freedom.”</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">He loosened the straps of his backpack and slid out of it. He slipped his arm lightly around her waist.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “There’s this little restaurant in Alta, Wyoming, that I know is for sale, called Wild Bills at Grand Targhee Resort. Targhee’s claim to fame is the first and last with the snow.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Sounds good to me,” Sara gently put her arms around his neck. Tom pulled her close to him. He felt the warmth of her body next to his. Sara was the sweet serenity he found among the jagged peaks. He adored everything about her. She was his obsession, more than the mountains ever could be.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> The balance between man and nature in the mountains is a fragile and delicate one. Life hangs by a taught golden string, stretched almost to the breaking point. Tom would always push towards the edge. Perhaps someday he would push too far. He would regret many things in his life, he would never regret having given his love to Sara.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “No promises.”</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “No promises,” he agreed.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://youtu.be/bS56mvv9XI8">Going To California- Led Zeppelin</a><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium;">Gordon Grey</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium;">Albert Bianchine</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">Next Up: Finish The Screenplay</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> (Uncle Albert's Mountain)</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><hr style="background-color: white; border-bottom: 0px; border-image: initial; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top-color: rgb(238, 238, 238); border-top-style: solid; box-sizing: content-box; color: #231f20; font-family: Lato, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; height: 0px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-top: 20px;" /><h4 style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; color: #231f20; font-family: Lato, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.1; margin: 0px 0px 1rem;">But, behind the scenes, things were changing. The planned Eisenhower Tunnel was going to divert traffic away from A-Basin. In 1971, the Forest Service sent A-Basin a scathing letter outlining everything that needed to be fixed or upgraded. And, after 25 years, Larry and Marnie Jump were ready to move on. When strong winds knocked over a Norway Lift tower in 1972, the Jumps decided they were done. They sold A-Basin to Joe Jankovsky for $850,000.</h4><h4 style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; color: #231f20; font-family: Lato, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.1; margin: 0px 0px 1rem;">Joe had previously managed A-Basin operations from 1962 to 1970. Though he owned the ski area for only six years, many remember his era as their favorite time at A-Basin. Joe focused on making critical infrastructure upgrades, repairing A-Basin’s tarnished image, and cultivating the laid-back vibe that is still prized and maintained today.</h4><h4 style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; color: #231f20; font-family: Lato, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.1; margin: 0px 0px 1rem 40px;"><em style="box-sizing: inherit;">“Skiing at the Basin in the 70’s was a trip. Warren Miller movies, Pepi Steigler and Billy Kidd race camps, Jefferson Starship crew skiing the Basin, gelande jumping on Pale Face … big air off the cornice—it was all about the skiing. There were skiers up at the Basin who were some of the most incredible skiers you will ever see, doing some of the wildest things you could ever imagine. Like patrolmen having jumping contests off King Cornice with rigs …</em></h4><h4 style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; color: #231f20; font-family: Lato, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.1; margin: 0px 0px 1rem 40px;"><em style="box-sizing: inherit;">Life was just one giant adventure that you got to share and toast to with all of your best friends. And then there were days when you just gave it up and ‘skied Mahogany Ridge’—that would be hanging in the pub.” – Cathy Chaplin, former A-Basin employee</em></h4><h4 style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; color: #231f20; font-family: Lato, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.1; margin: 0px 0px 1rem;">The introduction of the Ski Safety Act of 1979 brought stricter oversight to ski lift construction, maintenance, and operation. It was obvious that major upgrades were needed at A-Basin. Rather than figure out how to raise $5 million to accomplish the task, Joe chose to sell the ski area.</h4><hr style="background-color: white; border-bottom: 0px; border-image: initial; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top-color: rgb(238, 238, 238); border-top-style: solid; box-sizing: content-box; color: #231f20; font-family: Lato, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; height: 0px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-top: 20px;" /><h4 class="ab-flag" style="background: rgb(182, 53, 57); box-sizing: inherit; color: #231f20; display: inline-block; font-family: "Roboto Slab", sans-serif; font-size: 2.25em; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.1; margin: 2rem 0px 1em -3rem; max-width: 100%; padding: 0.25em 0.5em; position: relative;"><span style="box-sizing: inherit; color: white;">1978-1996</span></h4><h3 style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; color: #231f20; font-family: "Roboto Slab", sans-serif; font-size: 1.25em; font-style: italic; line-height: 1.1; margin: 0px 0px 1rem;"><big style="box-sizing: inherit;">The Sale of Arapahoe Basin: "We called ourselves the stepchild."</big></h3><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><h4 style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; color: #231f20; font-family: Lato, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.1; margin: 0px 0px 1rem;">Ralston Purina, owner of Keystone Mountain at the time, purchased A-Basin in 1978 for $3 million (about $13 million in 2022 dollars). The reason was clear: A-Basin’s expert terrain was intended to supplement Keystone’s beginner and intermediate offerings (Keystone is 5 miles West of A-Basin). A-Basin was treated and managed as an extension of Keystone, from sharing administrative departments to sharing lift tickets.</h4><div><a href="https://www.arapahoebasin.com/history/">History of Arapahoe Basin Ski Area</a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqv14v9f4Wp2Wlf7jELD3W8iL6junJm0kTU53PYZooFrHWA_k5T1qp9dvwVkfohBrLbPYt40j1Sz1_PTXYydcSLaOkm3PN0eczOEGyAm8LpM9Alnk6PMTTENGRlFwBqAM1gwoVIv9xbM0-dO91syonYlQLPRQokPuBOQ27TGUlmV7RKA0a8k_8VFHUubUE/s320/IMG_1483.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="240" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqv14v9f4Wp2Wlf7jELD3W8iL6junJm0kTU53PYZooFrHWA_k5T1qp9dvwVkfohBrLbPYt40j1Sz1_PTXYydcSLaOkm3PN0eczOEGyAm8LpM9Alnk6PMTTENGRlFwBqAM1gwoVIv9xbM0-dO91syonYlQLPRQokPuBOQ27TGUlmV7RKA0a8k_8VFHUubUE/s1600/IMG_1483.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>My Support Staff Pete, She Takes Care Of Everything<br /><div><br /></div>Write My Fire, Inc.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08627250404716616697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8324236056331397656.post-2212597294012291172023-07-26T15:07:00.008-07:002024-01-02T16:07:00.405-08:00165;Uncle Albert's Mountain, (The Lure of the Mountain King) Chapter XXXII; It's Never Over....<p><span style="font-size: medium;"> <i>I do this for myself because I am my own fatherland and my handkerchief is my flag. </i>Reinhold Messner</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><br /></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> The ski year was winding to a close. The last of the winter storms had long ago fallen, and the snow base was beginning to grow sparse and thin. Spring is a special time in the Rocky Mountains. Everyone looks forward to stripping off their heavy Parkas’ in exchange for shorts and tee shirts, the shapes of women finally appearing as women, underneath the bulky clothing.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Arapahoe Basin was the last in Colorado to close for the season. Her high altitude assured her of a deep base. The basin held the powder, and packed powder until well into the mud season. She could be skied, long after other areas, except maybe her sister, Loveland Basin, were closed. The summit towered into the thin crispness of the deep blues sky. The ivory snow melting, trickling through the cracks and crevasses, turned into raging streams everywhere, rushing down her steep craggy, creviced sides.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> The chairs hung empty desolate and silent swaying in the early morning breeze. The Beaver’s munched on the blossoming bulbs and spring mushrooms, while the Ermine and Ptarmigan turned their spring blending brown, frolicked and foraged on the hatching insects among the buttercups and daisies. It was the only sign that life existed, anywhere else in the world, outside of the teeming undergrowth.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Tom and Joe were standing in the parking lot in front of the Lodge gazing fondly at the high peaks. The billowy cumulus clouds softly sliding by, where slit by the earthen spires. Every person’s thoughts are inherently their own, but at certain times the world comes together to be as one. Humanity bridges the gaps; it is why society goes to the mountains. Here all are humble equals.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “So this is it,” Joe stretched out his arms. He rested his hand on the young man’s shoulder. He was hoping it wasn’t the last time they would be together.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Every season it’s the same. The end comes much, much too soon. You just begin to know someone, and then they're gone,” Tom lamented.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Tom grabbed his Tough Traveler backpack and swung it up onto his broad shoulders. Joe reached across to shake his hand, he pulled his friend tight to him, and gave him a strong fatherly hug.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Thank you for everything son, “ his voice cracked, as he whispered.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Aw, come on Joe,” Tom said. “This isn’t the end, it’s a new beginning, and new beginnings are great.”</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Joe stepped backwards and nodded a smile, not trusting himself, to speak. He didn’t hide or express emotions well. He opened the car door, and motioned for a last chance ride. Tom shook his head and cinched the black straps of his pack tighter. They hung long and loose, and gently flapped in the mountain breeze.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “When I was a small boy, Snowshoe would haul me up on his knee and whisper in my ear. Reach, Tom, reach as high as you can for your dreams. There’s no failure for reaching for an obscure dream and commin up short. You see my boy, the greatest failure in this life is never reaching for the dream at all,” Tom reflected. “You weren’t afraid to go for it, Joe. Maybe, just maybe, someday I’ll come to your ranch, wherever it may be. I don’t think I will ever be able to forget you and this damn mountain. I’ll think of you when the times are tough and it seems like the whole world has gone crazy. If it ever feels like there is no hope, I’ll remember your fight with the Senator, even though it isn’t over, and I’ll try a little harder, reach higher.”</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> The two were silent, dwarfed between being and nothingness, the quiet silence, the learned silence, the silence of mountains and men. Joe slid into the Mercedes and started the engine. He drove out of the parking lot and down the highway, toward Keystone and the Dillon Reservoir. He didn’t look back at Tom.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “That young man is a carbon copy of his Uncle Snowshoe. He’ll live to be a Legend in his Time.”</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Tom stood alone. He was a lone wolf again. A solitary sentinel stationed at the summit of North America. The sun’s rays bathed his body with warmth. The brilliant intense light reflected off of the wet white swaths of snow among the lush green meadows. It awakened all of his nerve endings, flooding, filling his body with and eerie consciousness.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> A loud snap followed suddenly by a crack and empty clanging, startled him. Tom spun to face the Lodge and quickly looked at where the sound had come from. The golden eagle grotesquely glared at him, a mute gargoyle atop a naked pole. Tom turned away. He was chilled by the empty resonance of the banging. The metal clasps hung from the cable, kissing the cold steel pole and was chilled by the hollow barren sound. Involuntarily, he shivered, against the loneliness. Tom peered along the line of blue lift towers, dotting the mountainside, like a caterpillar, crawling up to the summit. His gaze drifted across Lenawee Mountain and the magnificent East Wall that he had traversed in the fog and snow to get his first shots in with the Patrol. He squinted against the brightness. Trying to visualize the wooden miner's top shack perched precariously, guarding Montezuma Bowl on the backside. He held fast to the image until it burned brightly in his heart and mind and would hold Arapahoe Basin in his soul forever, her empty trails, and slopes, the waiting arms of an expectant lover.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Man passes across the face of the Earth, leaving scars of desecration. Nature gives it all away. After man’s reign is through, her divine steeples will stand silently, breathlessly catching passing cumulus clouds. There will be no pain, there will be no sorrow, there will be no glory, no answers. There will only be God’s Universe in its splendor. Tom had come around full circle, almost.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Begin at the beginning, end at the end, it’s never over until it’s over.” </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium;">Snowshoe was a wise old man his wisdom lived on, in Tom. There was one more loose end that had to be tied.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Tom kicked at a rock with his hiking boots. It skipped across the puddles. He splashed through the wet slush and mud of the parking lot. Life long ties had been meld as solid as the earthen rock, itself. He would always make a pilgrimage home, vowing in his heart, to bring a new friend, each time he returned to the Lady in Waiting.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> He started down Route-Six for his long walk into town, said good-bye to the Professor, guarding the switch- backs up to the Continental Divide. The Aspens, green with buds. The white and purple blooming Columbine, offset the vibrant hues of the Indian Paintbrush. The forest of Montezuma, alive with its burgeoning life. Tom looked to the summit for one last time. High above the giant bowl, a Golden Eagle cried shrilly, as it raced across the azure sky. Tom’s step lightened, his chest filled with serenity. The aroma of the sage and the pines permeated the thin air. The runoff cascading down the mountainside into the peaceful gentle Valley of the Blue.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://youtu.be/ph1GU1qQ1zQ">The Weight / Featuring Ringo Star and Robbie Robertson/ Playing For Change/ Song Around The World </a><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><br /></p>Write My Fire, Inc.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08627250404716616697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8324236056331397656.post-53835309750115982602023-07-24T21:36:00.003-07:002024-01-02T16:08:16.679-08:00164;Uncle Albert's Mountain, (The Lure of the Mountain King) Chapter XXXI; The Senator Is Foiled<p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /> “They’re in Meeting Room Three, but you can’t go in,” the secretary looked up at the young man. He ignored the last part of the warning, and ran down the hall.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Joe! Joe!, “Tom called hoping it wasn’t too late. There were no numbers on the doors, so he had to get their attention the hard way.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Joe! Dillon here!”</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “What’s going on?” The door to his left swung open and Joe’s lawyer stepped into the hallway and shut the door behind him.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “We’re in the middle of an important meeting. You can’t barge in like this,” he looked at Tom. “Miss Buxly! Miss Buxly! Would you show this man the door?” He grabbed Tom by the arm to lead him out. Tom pulled away from his grasp, pushed him aside, reached for the door handle and entered the room.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Excuse me Gentleman. Can I see you in private, Mr. Jacobason. It’ll only be a moment.”</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Pardon me,” Joe rose up from his seat. “ My accountant’s here.”</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> They went out into the hall, and over to an empty room. Tom closed the door behind them and shuffled Joe into a chair. He slid the papers out of the envelope, and spread them across the table. Taking a pen out of his pocket, he slapped it down on top and stood back.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Sign on the dotted line,” he said with a broad grin.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “What’s this?”</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Tom sat down in a big leather chair at the head of the table. He leaned back, crossed his fingers in front of him, and smiled a large radiant smile. “It’s a season’s pass,”</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “How on God’s green earth did you manage this,”Joe was occupied scrutinizing the policy.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “You can thank the King of Insurance, David Randall.” Tom stood and walked around beside Joe. He bent over and pointed to the date on the policy.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Effective yesterday!” he let out a hearty guffaw, unable to control his elation.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Unbelievable!” Joe shook his head from side to side.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “It was really very easy,” Tom strutted around the room. “I gave D.R. a call the day you told me about the cancellation. He knew what was going on. How the Senator had the Insurance Company in his pocket. The problems were not your fault and he would underwrite a new policy. He told me what he needed and I got him the information. I didn’t say anything because he wasn’t sure his company would go along with it, on such short notice….”</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “I’ll be damned,” Joe clicked the pen, and put his signature on his new lease on life.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “We almost didn’t make it, but Mr.Randall came through.”</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Joe stood up and collected the documents. “Shall we give them the good news?” He motioned to the door.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium;"><span> To say there was a celebration was an understatement. Everyone they could possibly get a hold of was at the Jaw. The party lasted well into the night. No one wanted the revelry to end. The joy this family felt was shared by all, it was just a battle. It was enough to en</span><span>d this season and hopefully keep them going for another year, and it was all that mattered to them.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium;"><span><a href="https://youtu.be/CpjRqXiF95M">Sierra-Boz Scaggs</a><br /></span></span></p>Write My Fire, Inc.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08627250404716616697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8324236056331397656.post-60818668804228894352023-07-24T06:05:00.007-07:002024-01-02T16:09:04.892-08:00163; Uncle Albert's Mountain,(The Lure); Chapter XXX; Providence Shows Its Hand<p><span style="font-size: medium;"> <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman";"> The weeks flew by as weeks often do. The way that time always seems to move toward an unwelcome event. No matter how hard you try to savor the remaining days. It’s a fact of human nature that cannot be reversed. If you want something, on the other hand, it never seems to arrive.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Tom had been waiting everyday for the mail to arrive. Joe’s last chance was riding on the efficiency of the United States Postal Service.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Neither rain nor sleet, nor snow can keep them from their appointed rounds. It was one scary thought,” he reflected.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> It was twelve noon and there didn’t seem to be anyone at the mountain. Yesterday was the final day of the season for the Basin. A wooden sign with a red lettering was stuck in the mud of the parking lot, a prelude to the Mud Season to come, it </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">read CLOSED.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Joe was on his way into town. The papers were to be signed at two P.M. that day to transfer ownership as quickly as possible, or risk going into default. Keystone’s Parent Company was quite agreeable to sign at a moment's notice. They had been poised to strike for a long time. Now that the Mountain Crown was about to be put on their heads, they were more than happy to accommodate Joe’s wishes.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Tom sat down on the steps and crossed his arms over his knees. He looked at his watch and it was twelve-fifteen.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Come on Jake,” he said, tapping his hiking boots impatiently.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Right on cue the mail truck came into view. Jake sped up the highway and pulled into the empty lot. He came to a halt in front of the stairs. Sliding out, he pulled a large bundle of letters from his sack.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Nothing but bills today, I’m afraid.”</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Tom slumped like the wind had been knocked from him. Jake knew that he had been waiting for an important letter from back East.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Damn I thought he would come through.” Tom shuffled through the pile. He was hoping he had missed something. Jake climbed back into the truck and drove away. Tom tossed the envelopes carelessly on to the steps. Defeated, he sat down. He desperately wanted to save the day for Joe, to rush in triumphantly just as they were about to sign the papers and declare victory. It was the image he had focused on in his mind. If you can see something happen and believe in it strongly, it will come true. It was the way Tom lived his life. He believed in everything he did.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> A white station wagon pulled off the road and into the lot, it stopped by the sign. He took no notice of it and stood up to stretch his legs. The car started forward and stopped next to him. He walked down the stairs to see what the driver wanted.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “I’m looking for Tom Dillon,” the man stuck his head out the window.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “You found him.”</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">The man reached over the seat and grabbed a large manila envelope. He handed it to Tom.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Sign here,” he said.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Tom signed the paper on the clipboard and took the envelope.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “This is it! This is it!,” he danced up and down. “Thanks, Thanks,” he pumped the man’s hand.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Anytime,” he smiled, shaking his head as he drove away.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Tom’s hands trembled with excitement as he ripped open the folder. He had to be sure it was the right thing. There it was in black and white, the most beautiful document he had ever seen.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> He ran to the road and stuck out his thumb.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “It looks like the Calvary is coming to the rescue, after all.”</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://youtu.be/ldJ2DlzAHWM">Hanuman Prayer, Krishna Das</a><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p>Write My Fire, Inc.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08627250404716616697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8324236056331397656.post-3087645380358718172023-07-23T11:26:00.008-07:002024-01-02T16:09:40.758-08:00162; Uncle Albert's Mountain,(The Lure;) Chapter XXIX; April- Joe Receives Bad News<p><span style="font-size: medium;"> <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman";">The end of April was a deadline for Joe, there was still an abundance of snow in the Rocky Mountains, but it signaled a decline. If he could have just lasted to May, he would have been able to keep the Basin another year.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Joe’s luck had just run out, in the mail today, he found the final blow. The letter read: In regards to excessive claims, increased liability, and questionable practices, we no longer consider you an acceptable risk and are formally notifying you of the cancellation of this insurance policy</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> The United States Forest Service would not allow him to operate without insurance. He had one week to cease operations.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “They finally won,” he said to himself. If he couldn’t sell tickets, he couldn’t pay his mortgage. If he can't pay his mortgage, he loses it all. Either way, they win. Joe closed his eyes, hoping that when he opened them, this nightmare would be over. It was over, but it wasn’t a dream, his fears had come true. All hope was lost. His life dreams would be gone with the melting spring snows.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> He rose from his desk, and walked out of the office, and stood at the base of the mountain. She was the only solace he had left in his life, at least for another week. He would spend the week, amidst her magnificent glory, like he did when he had first come to her. When times were simple, and the future looked cheerful and bright.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> He walked along the front of the Lodge and toward the lift. It was a beautiful day outside. The sun was warm and radiating through the clear blue sky. The silence disturbed only by the hum of the engines of the lifts, carrying the happy skiers up through the carved trails.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Hey Joe! What’s up?” Tom yelled. He had his skis over his shoulder, his boots squeaking on the snow as he made his way across the lot.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “How’s Toby doing today,” his face was upturned toward the Summit.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “A lot better. He told me, it wasn’t your fault. You shouldn’t feel bad.”</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “How can I not feel bad? If I wasn’t so foolish to think I could beat the Senator, at his expansion game, none of this would have happened,”</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “It’s not foolish to fight for something you believe. It’s cowardice to not. I never took you for a coward, Joe. Tom could feel a different air about Joe. He was speaking slower and softer than he had ever spoken before. Tom could sense, something was up. Joe was hiding something.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “What happened?”</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “ Happened! They cancelled my insurance,” He raised his finger. “One week”</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> The two men stared directly at one another. They were looking for a sign, the least little ray of hope. Joe was the first to break eye contact. The mountain was all he had, all he had ever wanted. How could he just leave? He couldn’t take his eyes off her.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Let’s ski,” he finally said.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “You go ahead, Joe. I’ve got a couple of things, I just remembered, I have to take care of.” Tom turned and started back to the Lodge.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “I’ll see you later,” he yelled over his shoulder.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Joe slowly picked up his skis and made his way toward the lift. He placed the skis gently on the ground. Lifting one leg at a time, he scraped the packed snow from the bottom of his boots and stepped firmly into the bindings.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Hi, Boss,” Sally, the lift operator said, as he skied up to the chair. It was as if he was the only one there. He didn’t hear her. Joe just gazed up the hill, his face void of all expression.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “I wonder what’s wrong with him,” she thought, “It looks like he lost his best friend.”</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://youtu.be/DvWrFqz6UeQ">White Bird' It's A Beautiful Day</a><br /></span></span></p>Write My Fire, Inc.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08627250404716616697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8324236056331397656.post-33274273746062560792023-07-21T13:03:00.005-07:002024-01-02T16:10:14.171-08:00161;Uncle Albert's Mountain,( The Lure;) Chapter XXVIII; Jilly and the Moose Jaw<p><span style="font-size: medium;"> <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Sara was never late for work, but this time was an exception, she had been down to see Toby. She had heard about the explosion on the local news, and she was already on her way to the Jaw but had to find out if he was going to be alright. By the time she made it back, she was an hour late. Jilly was sitting at the bar.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Did you hear what happened to Toby?”</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> She slid her empty glass forward to be filled.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “I certainly hope he is going to live.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">Sara froze in her tracks, not believing her ears. Jilly had never paid any attention to Toby, whatsoever. Now she was talking like they were best of friends.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “I just came from the hospital. He’s going to be alright.”</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “If you had bothered to go or at least called, you would know.” Sara thought seriously of knocking her from the stool. She just couldn’t bring herself to do it.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> She had been tense and on the edge, since she split with Tom and didn’t like her job any more to begin with. Jilly’s self serving attitude just made matters worse.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “You should have gone down to see him,” she compromised.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “I know,’Jilly said playing with her hair,” but I have just had so much on my mind lately.”</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Toby’s laying in the hospital, for Christsake, and you’re sitting here drinking, with a lot on your little mind.”</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Sara Stop it! You’re going to ruin my good news. Congratulate me!” Jilly smiled broadly.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Sara stood silently for a moment, hoping she wasn’t going to say, what she thought, she was going to say.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “I’m engaged!” Jilly held out her hand, adorned with a large diamond. “Isn’t it absolutely gorgeous,” she watched it sparkle as she turned it from side to side.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Sara was trying desperately to hold back her tears. All she could do, was think about Tom, and the life they would never know.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “I’m happy for you,” she said, half-heartedly. She looked down and busied herself by washing a few glasses. She hoped she wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “And that’s not all,” Jilly continued excitedly,” The best is yet to come.”</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">She turned off the water faucet and wiped her hands completely dry. She walked back over and leaned impatiently on the bar, looking directly at Jilly, tapping her fingers on the bar. She didn’t say a word.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Guess who’s running the Basin, from now on,” she raised her head and smiled proudly.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">Sara didn’t move. She didn’t twitch a muscle, frozen in indecision. What if anything was she going to do?”</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “I can either totally ignore her,” she said to herself, “or I can kill her.”</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">A moment passed. Sara took a long deep breath, and lunged over the top of the bar, knocking Jilly off her stool. She reached down and grabbed her by the hair and her shirt. She yanked her to her feet, dragged her to the door, and threw her out.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Everyone at the bar applauded as the door slammed behind her. Each and everyone had all wanted to do the very same thing, at least a hundred times before. It was good to finally see her get what she deserved. Sara was not in the mood to be patted on the back. She ran from the room crying, wanting to be left alone. She had never exploded like that before, and didn’t know what was going on. Her life was in shambles, chaos, and nothing made any sense anymore. She was finding out what it was like to pretend you're content with your life, when you just can’t pretend anymore.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://youtu.be/zxvrf0eUmuA">Driving-Everything But The Girl</a><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidFR_5fnf1H2KAA85mAxLzmwGAtdYtJZbTd3GFOxQbJ-SBCsVSEU5r75sKVwCowOoZnsyQfgvwUwjotauSL93lxE60_Li8oLLH3VwdiRkBdOijroS2Qs-1eQeD58TTDJnZLiSCRnlPrxhp5ZyByx4rxuraBxNXLhHd4bvOjJp828IOgjtB0bK-ocRmsKxm/s640/IMG_0722.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidFR_5fnf1H2KAA85mAxLzmwGAtdYtJZbTd3GFOxQbJ-SBCsVSEU5r75sKVwCowOoZnsyQfgvwUwjotauSL93lxE60_Li8oLLH3VwdiRkBdOijroS2Qs-1eQeD58TTDJnZLiSCRnlPrxhp5ZyByx4rxuraBxNXLhHd4bvOjJp828IOgjtB0bK-ocRmsKxm/s320/IMG_0722.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;">Aristotle Say's : Stay At Task ,Only Five More Chapters,.</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Remember: The Lure of the Mountain King, and Appaloosa Lake are Labors of Love, Rome Was Not Built In One Day! </span><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzftNf5iqSVDpPSLgYgToboLRGdBLcqYOdyxPEdWWxs3RGom34jjdePlN2_sPhZ7vIDdH4C-14lrRsK1z2UXTPd_DcakRzuEBjON81ZWlYIdygc3d_7AymIOWUlBY1t1BMibvJvzfJe2DBsz6uhQnVosCG_cLMp33Nj5URy5_c-uees8r4HVZ7-Oc_vxoL/s1211/thumbnail%202.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1211" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzftNf5iqSVDpPSLgYgToboLRGdBLcqYOdyxPEdWWxs3RGom34jjdePlN2_sPhZ7vIDdH4C-14lrRsK1z2UXTPd_DcakRzuEBjON81ZWlYIdygc3d_7AymIOWUlBY1t1BMibvJvzfJe2DBsz6uhQnVosCG_cLMp33Nj5URy5_c-uees8r4HVZ7-Oc_vxoL/s320/thumbnail%202.jpg" width="285" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">Reality Say's: Don't Be Fooled, The Real Work Is Just About To Begin. It is the Culmination of a lifetime in the mountains. Finishing the Screenplay, Appaloosa Lake, Waltzing with Rahda, Rewriting and Chapter Extension. It is like, standing at the top of an Incredibly Steep Ski Slope, your knees are knocking, your heart is pounding, your hands are shaking, but you will never get down, if you don't jump into the chute.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p>Write My Fire, Inc.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08627250404716616697noreply@blogger.com0