I would say that I am not a picky eater.  It is true…. I definitely have “likes” and “dislikes” (albeit not too many dislikes).  Yet, when I find something I really enjoy, it becomes my “Go To” thing. My standard answer.  My comfort zone.

I have been eating the same breakfast now for nearly eight years.  I am not kidding.  Two eggs over medium, some variation of toast, English Muffin, bagel or biscuit, ham, and a big bowl of grits… plain grits.  I salt and pepper the whole deal… and I am as happy as a pig in the mud.

This is not to say that I am plenty happy to eat other things at breakfast… bacon, canadian bacon, sausage… you know.. your basic pig.  And really anything toasted will do.  I am a big fan of The Gluten Goblin.  Other things spark my interest too.  Black beans and salsa, have come in handy, plain oatmeal, eggs any old way.  Sauteed veggies.  It goes on.

But the best combination for my little head and palette, is the GHET.  Grits, Ham, Eggs, Toastish.

I’ve tried certain foods, time and again.  And I still don’t like them.  Calamari comes to mind.  Even at restaurants, where people are munching on “the best Calamari they’ve ever had in their entire lives”… it continues to taste like deep fried thick-weight-rubber-bands with cocktail sauce, to me.

Sweet potatoes used to be another.  I had always pushed them away because they looked like a supporting device for marshmallows.  But a few years back, I tried on a baked Sweety Po.  Plain, no butter, sugar, or otherwise.  And… Yum.  Now I love a sweet potato.

Finally, tonight’s story.  Tea.  I have tried every kind of tea, from iced to hot, and back again.  Lemon, Early Grey, Green Tea,  Black Tea, blah, blah, blah.  I even read the book Three Cups of Tea… which turned out to be a sham of a scam.

Yet tonight, I was in the shower.  Showering.  Not cleaning it or anything, just taking a nice hot shower.  And I had the notion… a hot cup of tea sounds good.

Well, I went down and fixed a cup.  Just hot tea.  No sugar, no lemon… nothing.  Just tea.  And I loved it.  Actually, I just took the last swallow.

Tell me now.  What the heck is THAT?  How does THAT happen?  Fifty years of not liking something, and suddenly…. like a brick hurled from the sky…. I was almost craving it.

I guess I learned a little lesson in all of this.  Being aware is important for me.  When I am aware, I may notice that which is around me.  I might notice something beautiful for the first time… or finally take notice of a new idea, or thought.  Perhaps I sense something changing within me.

Change may come to us when we least expect it.   A rearranging.  But.  It doesn’t necessarily have to be hard.  Sometimes, it is quite simple, and very comforting.  And good.

Like a cup of tea.

Crap.  I hope it was Decaf.

“Flow with whatever is happening and let your mind be free. Stay centered by accepting whatever you are doing. This is the ultimate.” – Chuang Tzu

“Come, let us have some tea and continue to talk about happy things.” – Chaim Potok

Perhaps, we can think of it this way.

You are a mouse….. in a maze.  Yes.  A little door opened…. you were pushed through that wee opening…. and the door shut behind you.  Surrounding you now, are nothing but white walls.  From where your standing, the direction is not clear.  It may seem daunting, or even frightening.

What should you do mouse?  You sniff.  That comes naturally to you.  Ahhhh.  What is that?  Sharp White Vermont Cheddar Cheese?    Could be Velveeta.  Either way…..YUM.  You thinks you is hungry.   And you say to yourself, I will go in the direction of that smell.

So many halls are before you.  So many doors.  So many directions.  Which is the way?  You don’t know mouse.  But you step out.

At first it goes well.  Walking through these white passage ways.  And then.  Bam.  A wall blocks your process, and your progress.  There is no way around.  It proves much too steep to climb over.  So.  Now what?  You catch a whisper of that cheesy motivation.  Faintly.  So what do you do mouse?

Without much of a choice, you retrace your steps, and try figure  out which hallway might be the open channel.  Again and again this happens.  Dead end. Back up. Start over. Dead end. Back up.   Start over. But the thing of it is, you don’t give up.  You continue to begin anew.  It is either that, or just sit there and starve.

Finally mouse, one turn needs to the next.  A right turn here, and a left turn there.  At last, the open door.  The light at the end of the tunnel.  And YOU….. you get the cheese.

That is how it is for us humans too, isn’t it.  Our paths aren’t exactly clear, but we DO have little hints about the direction we have to go.

And when something gets in the way of our intended progress, we back track just a bit.  We figure out where we went wrong, and we learn from it.  We go in another direction.  Until finally, we get there.  Easy Cheese.

The dog takes the cat… the cat takes the mouse… the mouse takes the cheese. Heigh-ho, the derry-o . . .

A Maze Zing.

“Don’t be afraid to be amazing” – Andy Offutt Irwin

We all find life’s abundances in different places.  People see each and every thing with their own eyes… with their own perspective.

A blessing for one of us, may be a curse for another.

Here is the story of a little dog.

About 11 years ago… I got a phone call from Mary.  Someone had found a little dog who had been… most likely hit by a car… up on Route 122.  The young man who found the canine, was giving “it” some food and water.  But he didn’t really want to be bothered with the dog.  He had no plans of seeking medical attention for it.
So Mary asked if I could go up and offer to help.  When I arrived, there was a little black mass, huddle behind the steps.  The young man said… “That right there is the ugliest dog I have ever seen.”  I asked if the dog could walk.  Not much.  I asked if he wanted to keep the dog.  He quickly replied, “No way.”   Heck. That thing was ugly as sin, after all.

So, I scooped “her” up in my arms… and off we went to the Veterinarian’s Office.     Diagnosis:  Broken pelvis in four places, broken tail, tissue damage, probable damage to her bowel area, and on.  Outlook:  Pessimistic.

We didn’t want another dog… we had two Golden Retrievers.  But, we decided to try and nurse her back to health.

We started calling her Maxine….  Little Max.  The rest…. as they say….. is history.  As it turns out, she is the most beautiful dog in the whole world.  At least we think so.   As she limps along on our outings, through downtown Charleston,  people stop us and ask what breed she is.  Strangers  clamor over her.  They want one like her.

She is a blessing.  A treasure.  One of our life’s benefits.  At least, in our eyes, it seems that way.  And while we thought we were helping her…. she was actually helping us.

So many things surround us which truly are treasures.  It just takes a moment to notice.  And often times  …. we each are in need of something unique, in our unique time.  I always hope I am able to recognize the blessings that come my way… and scoop them up in my arms….

Hot showers, peanut butter, needle and thread, windows, clean air, Mary Poppins, blankets, mountains, electricity, fried bologna, smiles, sticky notes, apple trees …..

Life’s great, and wonderful, abundances.

For all of them, I am thankful.
And, I am SO very thankful, for each beautiful one of you….

Happy Thanksgiving.

“Abundance is not something we acquire. It is something we tune into.” – Wayne Dyer

“The Unknown” and “Wonder” are a fine married pair.

I wonder.  All the time.

I don’t think there is too terribly much I know for sure.  For absolutely sure.

I am not a skeptic.  At all.  I would classify myself more as a believer.

I tend to believe all people are good.   I hope that is a positive part of my mindset.  Most of the time… it turns out to be true.  Every now and again it will fall through.  Temporarily, I always hope.

Concerning our mental awareness versus our physical existence…  well…. THAT…. I question a lot.

There are alternate existences I think.  I also suppose a lot of people call this by different names, but I bet is right up the same bowling alley.  Second verse.  Same as the first.

And how about this?  What happens when we aren’t watching?  Any where.

Do frogs stand up and walk heel-toe, heel toe?

All those missing socks… what about those?  AND.  In the sock world… do they put their loved ones on milk cartons?

Do bees really mean to sting anything… or does that protrusion just get in the way of truly being understood?

With that thought…. I have experienced fleeting pain.  Most people have.  But what makes it fleet?  Do fleets have paining people?

Who in the heck made the first fence?

Did people fence about the first fence?  And is that why it is called fencing?

Dang.  On any given night, this happens to me, and I miss the ending of NCIS.  I get so bustling with my brain….or it gets busy with me.  Some nights my head stays occupied right into my sleeping hours.  And I continue to stay busy in my dreams.  I don’t have much room up there as it is.  And at times like these… it really gets crowded.

My biggest wonder.. do all people wonder like I wonder?  If they don’t… I wonder why not.

Do people lose their wonder?  I hope I never do.

But I wonder.

“The frog at the bottom of the well. He thinks the sky is only as big as the top of the well. If he surfaced, he would have an entirely different view.” – Mao Tse-Tung

“The difference between what the most and the least learned people know is inexpressibly trivial in relation to that which is unknown.” – Albert Einstein

We live in a very old city (1670) on a very old street.  In fact, in all of Charleston, there were only six original streets, when the town was first mapped out in 1680.

They were Meeting Street (our place of residence), King, Tradd, Church, Broad, and East Bay Streets.  There is a history lesson in every household positioned on these streets.

Across the street from us is the home of Thomas Heyward Jr.  He was one of the Signers of the Declaration of Independence.

Just up the street.. is the original location of Colonel Isaac Hayne.  He was a Revolutionary leader of the South Carolina Militia.  The Brits caught him, held him in the dungeon of the Old Exchange Building.  His little son went there and spent the night… before his father, Isaac was hanged by the British.

So many stories.  Some of them are charming, some devious, others are ghostly, or funny…. and some… just plain interesting.

Now this one is a beauty….

Right down the street is wonderful old, four story home… which was owned in the early 1800s, by a woman.  Elizabeth Martin Middleton.  She was widowed.  (The Middletons were a wealthy plantation-owning family here.  But Liz was born a Martin, and there was a large family grievance over a shipping dispute.)  At any rate….  another story… for another day.

So she took on boarders to help with living expenses.  Around 1810, or so, there were two artists living with her.  A portrait painter named Burton Larson Henry.  The other fellow, was a poet by the name of Burton Andrew Drayton.  Neither one of them were very successful.

They were always behind on their boarding fees.  In fact, they rarely paid.  Despite her prostrations, they continued with their negligence.

So, in 1813, she decided to murder them. Seriously.  Poison was very popular in the day.  So she invited them down for afternoon tea one day, served them homemade pastries laced with arsenic… and …. kaput.  That freed up a couple of rooms right now…. I’ll tell you.

Well.  Given the obvious motive, and the resulting deaths of both tenants…  Mrs. Middleton was arrested and charged pretty quickly for the crime.

Feigning innocence, she demanded to know why she was being charged.

The police captain replied….. “Well, it seems, madam, that you……  have killed two Burts with one scone!”

Arrrrrrrggghhhhhhh……   🙂

They say we can learn from history.  Blow off a little steam BEFORE you serve tea?

Or… eating sweets is bad for you?

Crime doesn’t pay…. if you have dead renters?

Okay, truth of the matter is, I am not sure what the real lesson is here.   But… feed a starving artist a pastry, and he dies of arsenic poising.  Teach him HOW to bake his own pastries, and he might open a bakery.

“The charm of history and its enigmatic lesson consist in the fact that, from age to age, nothing changes and yet everything is completely different.” – Aldous Huxley

Tonight, I saw Lincoln.

Not the actual President.  Although, I wish I could travel back in time and talk to him.  No, tonight I saw the movie Lincoln, starring Daniel Day Lewis, Sally Field, Tommy Lee Jones, James Spader, and so many more.

I am not sure that words can convey the spectrum of emotions I am experiencing tonight.  The intensity therein.

Tears streamed down my face at least a half dozen times during the film.

He was truly a great man, with a sound understanding of human rights.  He stopped at nothing, to fight for those self-evident truths.

So if I could travel back in time.  Or.  If I could ask him some questions….  right here & now…. I surely would.

Mr. President.  Thanks so much for your time tonight.  It is my absolute honor to meet you.  I am SO happy to be here.

Polly… call me Abe… will ya’? And I am happy to be here too.  “Most folks are as happy as they make up their minds to be.”

Well, thank you sir.  Let’s begin.
There are a lot of different views about religion in America.  What is your opinion on religion?

“When I do good, I feel good. When I do bad, I feel bad. That’s my religion.”

Holy Smackerels… that is profound.  Okay.  We have some big questions about equal rights these days for certain groups of people in the U.S.  What do you say to that?

“Those who deny freedom to others deserve it not for themselves.”

Our country seems to argue about everything now.  Some are calling for secessions, and Civil War.  Any advice?

More than 600,000 men died in the Civil War.  Long before me…. Mr. Benjamin Franklin said it best….“There was never a good war or a bad peace.”

“May our children and our children’s children to a thousand generations, continue to enjoy the benefits conferred upon us by a united country, and have cause yet to rejoice under those glorious institutions bequeathed us by Washington and his compeers.”

But both sides seem to focus on the differences….

“If you look for the bad in people expecting to find it, you surely will.”

Any suggestions for living the every day to day?

“…..  in the end it is not the years in your life that count, it’s the life in your years.”

And how do we become better people?

“Whatever you are, be a good one.”  

I wish everyone in America would go and see this movie…… …. … ten minutes ago.

Oh to be a baby bird…. right out of the shell.

You know.  When WE were baby birds… the world was brand new.  There was so much we didn’t know.

So many things.

We didn’t know how to hate.  Or how to show prejudice.  Someone taught us those things.

At first blush, we didn’t fear anything.  We learned that too..  Most of the time,  it was with the help of others.

When we were baby birds, we thought we were able to doing anything we wanted.  We knew no limits.    Yet… we found that we DO have certain limits.  And sometimes it hurts.   Like the time I fell down the steps.  Or the time I put my hand on a hot burner.

Yet on other occasions… someone first told us we were not capable….   of this… or that.

Yes.  That is how it goes for us baby birds.  But one of the tricks to getting better at this thing called flying, is to figure out which lessons are good, and which are bad.

We spread our wings, and we fly.

But the when….   the how….

Some good bird lessons I have been thinking about tonight:

I am going to live by the three Rs each day.  Respect for self.  Respect for others.  Responsibility for my actions.

I will not hurt people.

I will forgive others and myself. To understand that no person is perfect is a fine thing.

Life is empty without happiness. I must do what makes me happy.

I will offer a helping hand to others.

Nobody else in this whole world is exactly like me. I am a unique individual.  I have something good to contribute to this world.

Yes, just a few thoughts tonight… from the wholeness of it all.  Growing more feathers.

“Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible.” – Dalai Lama

You know me.  I like to jump back in history every now and again.  Especially  when the event has a perpetuating effect on me .  So today is one of stellar proportions.

It was a Monday night.  Cold, brisk, dark.  New York City.   But the city was shining bright on that particular night.  Yes… on November 16, 1959…. the Rodgers and Hammerstein musical “The Sound of Music” opened on Broadway.

Now the particulars of all this hoopla are interesting.  The show starred the wildly popular Mary Martin (aka Peter Pan in 1954) as Maria…. the original singing nun.

Yet, what about the real life-story … …did the young Austrian nun really flutter up to the hills surrounding Salzburg to sing whenever the bee stung, or the dog bit?   Did she nuzzle little kittens, and wear bright woolen mittens?  And how about that stiff-board future husband, and all those raucous kids?  Did they skip out of town with the Nazi Regime on their tails?

Well.  Truth be told. Not so much.  Nope.  The real-life Maria von Trapp did none of those things. She WAS a former nun…. that part is true.  And… she DID marry Count Georg von Trapp.  All the rugrats were about too.

But the real Maria wrote a book in 1949.  It was called The Story of the Trapp Family Singers.  The actual particulars and details of her life were pretty much ignored by the creators of the Broadway musical.  Her memoir bit the dust.

The show’s writers were Howard Lindsay and Russel Crouse.  Of course…. the composer and lyricist….. Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II.  They all joined noggins and mapped out a much more entertaining version of the Von Trapps.

The real Maria von Trapp and her stepchildren were not too happy about this.  At all.  According to many later reports… they were all out peeved.  Their Lederhosen were all in a bunch.  Yet…. those liberties made The Sound of Music a smash hit and a huge success from the very night of its Broadway opening on this day in 1959.

Do Re Mi.  My Favorite Things.  Sixteen Going On Seventeen.  Lots of big hits came out of that show.

(However, one of my favorites is The Lonely Goatherd.  I love the yodel part.)

At any rate, I started all of this because of the “title”… … …. the “sound” of music.  The two are typically associated with one another.  Music=Sound.  Yet, how about our other senses and music.  Can we taste or smell music?  Not too often, I don’t think.

But we do “feel” music all the time.  At least I do.  Sometimes, we can even see it.

So this photograph I took looked like music to me.  I see music in a lot of different places.

At any rate… thanks for sharing this great anniversary.  The Sound & Sight… of Music.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Interesting addition… the REAL Maria’s Declaration of Intention.  Coolio, eh?

Once again, they found themselves surrounded by the Robot Brothers.  Unfortunately, they had just polished off the last of  the peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches.

While Mr. Bill was well aware of the levity of the situation…. Gumby had no working comprehension concerning their circumstances.  He never worried.

The Robot Brothers were hungry.  And cranky.

But deep down inside, Gumby knew it would be alright.    Pokey would come and save the day.  Pokey always came to save the day.  And he always kept a baggie filled with peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches.

That silly little grin looked good on Gumby’s face.  And it was there for good reason.

“Happiness is not the absence of problems but the ability to deal with them.” – H.J. Brown Jr.

Since we are on the topic of dogs…. and we were….

THIS is one of the reasons I love them so.