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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;DUMARXY-fSp7ImA9WhRUFkQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5240505045113283416</id><updated>2012-01-27T12:50:44.855-08:00</updated><category term="ornaments" /><category term="Jameson Gold" /><category term="unemployed" /><category term="China" /><category term="June 17th" /><category term="El Cajon" /><category term="jealousy" /><category term="Rescue Pilot" /><category term="&quot;Phoebe in Wonderland&quot;" /><category term="Nostradamas" /><category term="anarchist" /><category term="Thimble club meeting" /><category term="taxes" /><category term="wealth" /><category term="hermit" /><category term="pad thai" /><category term="thoughts" /><category term="youth" /><category term="e-mails" /><category term="shopping carts" /><category term="Mt. 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/><category term="panang curry" /><category term="Reedy River" /><category term="Spring Training" /><category term="fourth of July." /><category term="Susan Boyle" /><category term="responsibility" /><category term="handyman" /><category term="mother earth" /><category term="family reunions" /><category term="Natasha Richardson" /><category term="Election Day" /><category term="use or non-use of God given gifts" /><category term="Cinderella story" /><category term="desires" /><category term="Alyssa Milano" /><category term="Matthew Broderick" /><category term="Philip Levine" /><category term="Shrimp" /><category term="horoscopes" /><category term="Bruce Chatwin" /><category term="evolution" /><category term="San Diego Padres" /><category term="Declaration of Independence" /><category term="Rachel McAdams" /><category term="Huntsville" /><category term="discussions" /><category term="banking institutions" /><category term="impressed" /><category term="squirrels" /><category term="Tahoe" /><category term="Whittier College" /><category term="Felicity Huffman" /><category term="cherish" /><category term="Manzanar Historic Site" /><category term="Irish Whiskey" /><category term="ponderingdave" /><category term="Crime Victims Units" /><category term="George W. Bush" /><category term="Campbell Scott" /><category term="Sunday morning walk" /><category term="traditions" /><category term="Sept 11th" /><category term="Pacific Crest Trail" /><category term="World Economic Forum" /><category term="San Diego Chargers" /><category term="Billy Mays" /><category term="draft" /><category term="relaxation" /><category term="envy" /><category term="bring the body home" /><category term="1977" /><category term="refrigerator magnet" /><category term="everyone has a voice" /><category term="old friends" /><category term="Final Jeopardy" /><category term="Kilkelly" /><category term="Red Sox" /><category term="City of San Diego" /><category term="mall" /><category term="crows" /><category term="vote" /><category term="Davos" /><category term="marinade" /><category term="20 oz. bottles" /><category term="&quot;The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson&quot;" /><category term="snow" /><category term="poet" /><category term="Death" /><category term="Springsteen's &quot;The River&quot;" /><category term="Faulkner" /><category term="drugs" /><category term="password" /><title>PonderingDave</title><subtitle type="html">Personal musings on life's little moments.</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15114829571323709364</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPRXtIea8Ao/TJOb3U0oX0I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/dzQ8hQvT8AM/S220/dave1.jpg.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>221</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/Ponderingdave" /><feedburner:info uri="ponderingdave" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck4ARn8zcSp7ImA9WhRWE0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5240505045113283416.post-9016209687421562835</id><published>2011-12-30T13:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-31T09:02:27.189-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-31T09:02:27.189-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mall" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="free market" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="immigrants" /><title>Nation of Immigrants</title><content type="html">At a mall on a Saturday during the past month, the store greeter, a small Filipina, greets me as I walk to the American hamburger stand inside. While waiting in line with a group of African-American ladies, for a cup of Ethiopian coffee served by a latino, I noticed a Chinese lady sitting and reading her Chinese language newspaper. Sipping that said coffee in the mall listening to a Chaldean family, whose children were sporting the latest southern California T-shirts, shorts, sandals beach wear.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Later, &amp;nbsp;while out in the parking lot we walk amongst the imported Japanese and German cars&amp;nbsp;parked there. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
America, this nation of immigrants, must again become strong and remain that way. Let the free market survive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5240505045113283416-9016209687421562835?l=ponderingdave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZRkGSczo3gbZHRnx572TZi_G7Wc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZRkGSczo3gbZHRnx572TZi_G7Wc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~4/wJl49_9jYyY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/feeds/9016209687421562835/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5240505045113283416&amp;postID=9016209687421562835&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/9016209687421562835?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/9016209687421562835?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~3/wJl49_9jYyY/they-love-country-so-much-that-has.html" title="Nation of Immigrants" /><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15114829571323709364</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPRXtIea8Ao/TJOb3U0oX0I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/dzQ8hQvT8AM/S220/dave1.jpg.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/2011/12/they-love-country-so-much-that-has.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak8ASX04fyp7ImA9WhRWEko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5240505045113283416.post-3918687215923272751</id><published>2011-12-30T13:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-30T13:00:48.337-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-30T13:00:48.337-08:00</app:edited><title>Once again, "Notes from a (semi-)Clean Desk"</title><content type="html">Some time last year I sat down and wrote these beginnings.&amp;nbsp; Prose poems, notes, essays... I don't know where they will go.&amp;nbsp; Just thought I would share them.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
1.&lt;br /&gt;
I arrive every morning at five minutes to six.&amp;nbsp; Usually, a&amp;nbsp;half hour before dawn.&amp;nbsp; "Oh dark thirty".&amp;nbsp; Suits me just fine.&amp;nbsp; No traffic, quiet commute. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I pull into the parking lot and have the pick of my spots.&amp;nbsp; Most of my associates pick a spot in the parking structure, the garage close to the building.&amp;nbsp; I prefer a spot outside in the lot about a hundred yards from the entrance to the building.&amp;nbsp; I pull in and park in the corner right next to the six inch berm.&amp;nbsp; Stepping out of the car each day I step on the berm.&amp;nbsp; Everyday I have the same thought, "Oh, to be six inches taller."&amp;nbsp; What a different perspective on the world that would be.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This one particular morning I followed the same routine.&amp;nbsp; But this morning I exited my car with a new confidence.&amp;nbsp; I stepped on the berm and notice how good I felt, spiritually.&amp;nbsp; Not just the confidence of the berm but I believe I am entering a new phase in my life.&amp;nbsp; New job, new responsibilities, new goals and challenges.&amp;nbsp; This is an amazing revelation.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2. &lt;br /&gt;
Notes for future poems: &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I was young I wore a checkered cap. &lt;br /&gt;
I had successes and misfortunes, &lt;br /&gt;
I had a checkered past.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Last night I dreamt of your wedding day, and how I wasn't there.&lt;br /&gt;
You wore white, and shoes, and had flowers in your&amp;nbsp;hair.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What can I do with these?&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Any ideas? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
D.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5240505045113283416-3918687215923272751?l=ponderingdave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/p5rjcDbw1vdDRmnFEBtppPlIvX0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/p5rjcDbw1vdDRmnFEBtppPlIvX0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~4/ZLNlULpzskc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/feeds/3918687215923272751/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5240505045113283416&amp;postID=3918687215923272751&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/3918687215923272751?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/3918687215923272751?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~3/ZLNlULpzskc/once-again-notes-from-semi-clean-desk.html" title="Once again, &quot;Notes from a (semi-)Clean Desk&quot;" /><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15114829571323709364</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPRXtIea8Ao/TJOb3U0oX0I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/dzQ8hQvT8AM/S220/dave1.jpg.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/2011/12/once-again-notes-from-semi-clean-desk.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0IDR308cCp7ImA9WhRQFEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5240505045113283416.post-4877688018193586784</id><published>2011-12-09T21:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-09T21:39:36.378-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-09T21:39:36.378-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Spring Training" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Gaylord Perry" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Ken Caminiti" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="baseball" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Dallas Green" /><title>Baseball, spring training, Dallas Green, Ken Caminiti, Gaylord Perry</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="color: navy; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: navy; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;Recently I had a conversation about baseball with a good friend.&amp;nbsp; It brought back some baseball memories.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: navy; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: navy; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;I grew up in  New Orleans.  New Orleans had a minor league team for awhile in the 60s (before  my time there) and then again in the 1980s to present (after my time).  I  remember the newscasters talking about local players, but never as much as a  hometown team would have warranted.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: navy; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: navy; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;I was a fan as a kid –  played little league and all that, never any good.  But I never had an  allegiance until I move here to SD for the second time in 1981 (I lived here for  six months in 1979).  I remember cooking breakfast for Gaylord Perry, who was on  his way to spring training in 1979 (right after he won the Cy Young in 1978).  Wish I had gotten his autograph.  I was 20 and stupid.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: navy; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: navy; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;I learned about the inner  workings of bb in the fall of 1980.  I wanted to go fishing during the  playoffs.  My roommate wanted to wait until after the Phillies finished out  their playoff game.  Dallas Green was the manager and he made some strategic  moves that, once explained to me, made me realize that this was the game and  intellectual pursuit I was looking for.  And for the next 18 years it was. Until  Ken Caminiti died.  And I realized that is WAS all about money. I may get back  into it.  I don’t know. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: navy; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: navy; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;My friend invited me and my wife to Spring Training but I am still trying to catch up financially from my layoff.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;And my wife&amp;nbsp;isn’t really  interested in that kind of trip.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;My son&amp;nbsp;is more involved&amp;nbsp;with his band and getting  out of school.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I may not get to&amp;nbsp;spring training this year.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Maybe next season.  We shall see.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: navy; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: navy; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:D.@infotrustgroup.com"&gt;D.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:D.@infotrustgroup.com"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:D.@infotrustgroup.com"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Calibri; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5240505045113283416-4877688018193586784?l=ponderingdave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-lxE-27R7SFB6Zw7567OsFRVrSE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-lxE-27R7SFB6Zw7567OsFRVrSE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-lxE-27R7SFB6Zw7567OsFRVrSE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-lxE-27R7SFB6Zw7567OsFRVrSE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~4/RwbjBLEnnPI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/feeds/4877688018193586784/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5240505045113283416&amp;postID=4877688018193586784&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/4877688018193586784?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/4877688018193586784?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~3/RwbjBLEnnPI/baseball-spring-training-dallas-green.html" title="Baseball, spring training, Dallas Green, Ken Caminiti, Gaylord Perry" /><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15114829571323709364</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPRXtIea8Ao/TJOb3U0oX0I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/dzQ8hQvT8AM/S220/dave1.jpg.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/2011/12/baseball-spring-training-dallas-green.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0YHRngyfyp7ImA9WhRRFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5240505045113283416.post-2570891319476935174</id><published>2011-11-27T15:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-27T15:05:37.697-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-27T15:05:37.697-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Poetry" /><title>Requiem for Childhood</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"&gt;  (For my Mom and Dad) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"&gt;From boyhood to manhood you pass&lt;br /&gt;
like sweet morning rain.&lt;br /&gt;
The songs you sang the morning last&lt;br /&gt;
are now a new refrain.&lt;br /&gt;
No longer held in mother's arms&lt;br /&gt;
no longer take of father's bread&lt;br /&gt;
This life is yours with great alarm&lt;br /&gt;
there's another place to make your bed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Make of your life what you will&lt;br /&gt;
be never too ashamed.&lt;br /&gt;
Your dreams are but your plans to build&lt;br /&gt;
your tools are what you've gained.&lt;br /&gt;
If ever dreams let you down&lt;br /&gt;
if ever dreams go nowhere, &lt;br /&gt;
There are greater things to get you down&lt;br /&gt;
and greater burdens to bear. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"&gt;by David R. Normand&lt;br /&gt;
C. 1979&lt;br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5240505045113283416-2570891319476935174?l=ponderingdave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SISkEZUFhb_Q5mDW0BZljsNHvXg/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SISkEZUFhb_Q5mDW0BZljsNHvXg/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SISkEZUFhb_Q5mDW0BZljsNHvXg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SISkEZUFhb_Q5mDW0BZljsNHvXg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~4/JWlgEg2EXTw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/feeds/2570891319476935174/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5240505045113283416&amp;postID=2570891319476935174&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/2570891319476935174?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/2570891319476935174?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~3/JWlgEg2EXTw/requiem-for-childhood.html" title="Requiem for Childhood" /><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15114829571323709364</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPRXtIea8Ao/TJOb3U0oX0I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/dzQ8hQvT8AM/S220/dave1.jpg.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/2011/11/requiem-for-childhood.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk8HSXs7fCp7ImA9WhRRFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5240505045113283416.post-8555026879937835237</id><published>2011-11-27T15:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-27T15:00:38.504-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-27T15:00:38.504-08:00</app:edited><title>Come to Me, a Poem by David R. Normand</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;If ever lives were destined&lt;br /&gt;
Ours were of the fate.&lt;br /&gt;
Hoping to be entwined&lt;br /&gt;
We wound up separate.&lt;br /&gt;
Time was all you asked for&lt;br /&gt;
From one such as me, &lt;br /&gt;
But my impatience was at war&lt;br /&gt;
With my loyalty.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Compassion from the heart&lt;br /&gt;
Forgiveness from the soul, &lt;br /&gt;
Despair is just a state of mind&lt;br /&gt;
With no place to go.&lt;br /&gt;
Come to me, my lover lost&lt;br /&gt;
And soothe the heart that yearns&lt;br /&gt;
Before I die old and gray&lt;br /&gt;
The oldest man that learns. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;By David R. Normand&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
C. 1979&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Notes from my desk.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5240505045113283416-8555026879937835237?l=ponderingdave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fES4EdZ8Fr1ipR3NHhEOLFWfpJg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fES4EdZ8Fr1ipR3NHhEOLFWfpJg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~4/D1PFxJn3H6A" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/feeds/8555026879937835237/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5240505045113283416&amp;postID=8555026879937835237&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/8555026879937835237?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/8555026879937835237?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~3/D1PFxJn3H6A/come-to-me-poem-by-david-r-normand.html" title="Come to Me, a Poem by David R. Normand" /><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15114829571323709364</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPRXtIea8Ao/TJOb3U0oX0I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/dzQ8hQvT8AM/S220/dave1.jpg.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/2011/11/come-to-me-poem-by-david-r-normand.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUEQn87eCp7ImA9WhRREUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5240505045113283416.post-174659153201395452</id><published>2011-11-24T09:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-24T09:53:23.100-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-24T09:53:23.100-08:00</app:edited><title>Happy Thanksgiving, 2011</title><content type="html">&lt;span class="messageBody" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}"&gt;Happy Thanksgiving to everyone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="messageBody" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}"&gt;Celebrate the joys in your life.  Hug your family.&amp;nbsp;Tell them that you love them and that they are so special in your life.&amp;nbsp; I love my wife and my two wonderful, talented and happy kids.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="messageBody" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}"&gt;I am thankful for my Mom.  I miss her everyday.  How can I cook Thanksgiving dinner without her?  She was always the planner.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="messageBody" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}"&gt;I am thankful for my Dad.  Had he not spoken to that beautiful girl in the registration line at college 57 years ago, my brothers and sisters and I would not be who we are today.  Thank you Mom and Dad.  Thank you God, for putting them together in that spot.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="messageBody" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}"&gt;Happy Thanksgiving.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="messageBody" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}"&gt;D.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5240505045113283416-174659153201395452?l=ponderingdave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NVg8bH9RV1vBCn3K_hovY0i-Ono/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NVg8bH9RV1vBCn3K_hovY0i-Ono/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~4/Sx6fkttgo5c" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/feeds/174659153201395452/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5240505045113283416&amp;postID=174659153201395452&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/174659153201395452?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/174659153201395452?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~3/Sx6fkttgo5c/happy-thanksgiving-2011.html" title="Happy Thanksgiving, 2011" /><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15114829571323709364</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPRXtIea8Ao/TJOb3U0oX0I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/dzQ8hQvT8AM/S220/dave1.jpg.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/2011/11/happy-thanksgiving-2011.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUIDQno9cCp7ImA9WhRTGU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5240505045113283416.post-1371532868158062833</id><published>2011-11-09T17:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-09T22:46:13.468-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-09T22:46:13.468-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="crows" /><title>snacks on my driveway</title><content type="html">Took a sick day today.&amp;nbsp; I was fighting a cold.&amp;nbsp; Mega doses of Vitamin C helped.&amp;nbsp;I am feeling much better after a day of rest and de-stressing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I got up this morning and had some coffee, read the paper and settled down on the couch.&amp;nbsp; I opened the curtains, grabbed my blanket and coffee&amp;nbsp;and was hoping to&amp;nbsp;read a book.&amp;nbsp; It was real&amp;nbsp;nice sitting there reading with sun coming through the trees and the window.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
Sat there with my book when all of a sudden there were several black flashes outside the window.&amp;nbsp; Shadows were moving in front of&amp;nbsp; the window.&amp;nbsp; Ok.&amp;nbsp; What is that?&amp;nbsp; I got up and looked out.&amp;nbsp; There were three crows wandering about on my driveway.&amp;nbsp; They were picking up the seeds from the ash trees.&amp;nbsp; Fine.&amp;nbsp; Not bothering anyone.&amp;nbsp; And the seeds they eat don't sprout in my flower beds.&amp;nbsp; Less weeding for me.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
Have fun.&amp;nbsp; Enjoy the snack.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
D.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qwJXo426rtc/TrsqTZKMIkI/AAAAAAAAAGo/wunF_PxTpG4/s1600/100_0987.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qwJXo426rtc/TrsqTZKMIkI/AAAAAAAAAGo/wunF_PxTpG4/s320/100_0987.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-leZB8zUvpPc/Trsp533c4AI/AAAAAAAAAGY/8I0cJenfGPk/s1600/100_0988.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-leZB8zUvpPc/Trsp533c4AI/AAAAAAAAAGY/8I0cJenfGPk/s320/100_0988.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5240505045113283416-1371532868158062833?l=ponderingdave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2eOk8_asjNuAKpPgV9puAsQ3hwM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2eOk8_asjNuAKpPgV9puAsQ3hwM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~4/wUF3qw8dBoE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/feeds/1371532868158062833/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5240505045113283416&amp;postID=1371532868158062833&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/1371532868158062833?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/1371532868158062833?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~3/wUF3qw8dBoE/snacks-on-my-driveway.html" title="snacks on my driveway" /><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15114829571323709364</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPRXtIea8Ao/TJOb3U0oX0I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/dzQ8hQvT8AM/S220/dave1.jpg.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qwJXo426rtc/TrsqTZKMIkI/AAAAAAAAAGo/wunF_PxTpG4/s72-c/100_0987.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/2011/11/snacks-on-my-driveway.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkQESX8_fyp7ImA9WhdaFkU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5240505045113283416.post-8800940142477485745</id><published>2011-10-26T21:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-26T21:05:08.147-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-26T21:05:08.147-07:00</app:edited><title>Messages</title><content type="html">We had dinner tonight&amp;nbsp;at my Dad's.&amp;nbsp; After dinner, while my sister and my wife were cleaning up the kitchen, I stood there by the phone looking around at my mom's domain.&amp;nbsp; I noticed the white board with all the messages for the family and day care.&amp;nbsp; Next to the message board is the TV and above the TV is a picture of some flowers.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
While looking around I noticed that the picture was hanging crooked on the wall.&amp;nbsp; My mom's voice in my head told me to straighten the picture.&amp;nbsp; It was just like she was sitting there. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I took the picture off the wall, dusted it off, and hung it back on the wall, straight.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thanks for being there Mom.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
D.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5240505045113283416-8800940142477485745?l=ponderingdave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
I lost my dear, sweet mother on Tuesday. She was the sweetest lady we could ever know. She died in the morning. We are at a loss for words and direction. She was the one who we would call when we needed comfort. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Mom died Tuesday Morning, October 18, at 4:55 AM. I arrived at the hospital 20 minutes too late. I believe she left us sometime earlier than that. We spent two and a half days in the Medical Intensive Care Waiting room praying for her survival. We knew it was a hard fight. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We sat there with strangers, each sharing their own little pain. Strangers with different lives as rich and deep as ours. Loves, challenges, pains and memories. Just as ours. This is life. This is what we do. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I look around me these past few days. I don’t see any strangers. I see family. I see all those people my mother has touched, directly, or through the sweet lives she has influenced. She married my father, a man strong in faith and beliefs. She raised seven children and 13 grandchildren. She looked after so many children in her 20+ years as a day care provider. She has influenced a great many lives. Look around you, you can see a face that has gazed upon my mother’s smile. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We went back to Mom and Dad’s house to begin our final arrangements. One of my sisters from Texas asked me if Mom had any special or favorite phrases. I said look around the house. The house is filled with pictures of those phrases. “When there is love in the house, there is joy in the heart.” “Welcome to our home, Here find peace and love wrapped in your arms.” I am sure these were gifts, given to my mom because of those feelings that our house embodied. She was a dear, sweet, kind woman. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One of my earliest memories is of my mom. Of course. She was watching the JFK burial on TV. My brothers and sisters and I were playing in another room. My mom was in the kitchen crying. I think I felt worried for her. But I knew she was stronger than myself; I believe I was only four. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I also remember that when I was a kid, probably about 10, I overheard my mother confide in an older lady friend of hers. My mom was worried about her newly developing crows feet and other assorted wrinkles that come along with age. My mom was wondering what there was to be done. This older woman announced to my mother that those were nothing to be afraid or ashamed of. Those wrinkles, or laugh lines, were a tribute to how much she enjoyed life. A tribute to how often she smiled and how popular she was.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Some people call them "worry lines", some call them "laugh lines", whatever you want to call them, they make up who we are. We are what life makes us. We are what we become. Our experiences, our fears, our laughter, our smiles and our problems, they all take their toll on us. They all help to sculpt the lines of our face. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was ten. I am now past 50. I have lived. My mom has lived. She has seen all of her children grow to responsible adults. My mom has seen the birth of 13 grandkids. She has taken care of countless children in her day care. She died way too soon. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My mom was as aspiring English teacher when she met my dad. I know she loved literature. Maybe I got my love of words from her. I know one of her favorite poets was Longfellow. But I came across two poems that kind of describe how I feel. Not by Longfellow, but by Auden. I shall recount only parts of them here. Mom was my shining star. A light in the night sky that I could count on. She was always there…&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
From “The More Loving One”:&lt;br /&gt;
“Were all stars to disappear or die,&lt;br /&gt;
I should learn to look at an empty sky&lt;br /&gt;
And feel its total dark sublime,&lt;br /&gt;
Though this might take me a little time.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And from “Funeral Blues”:&lt;br /&gt;
“[S]he was my North, my South, my East and West,&lt;br /&gt;
My working week and my Sunday rest,&lt;br /&gt;
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;&lt;br /&gt;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;&lt;br /&gt;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;&lt;br /&gt;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.&lt;br /&gt;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
David.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5240505045113283416-2981263252837442665?l=ponderingdave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3DZxycUkS9mJR3ZngWsUqnSZcKQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3DZxycUkS9mJR3ZngWsUqnSZcKQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~4/RDWplpEe_I0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/feeds/2981263252837442665/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5240505045113283416&amp;postID=2981263252837442665&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/2981263252837442665?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/2981263252837442665?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~3/RDWplpEe_I0/my-mother.html" title="My Mother" /><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15114829571323709364</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPRXtIea8Ao/TJOb3U0oX0I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/dzQ8hQvT8AM/S220/dave1.jpg.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/2011/10/my-mother.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkAGSHc6eSp7ImA9WhdUE0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5240505045113283416.post-5744146585812967520</id><published>2011-09-29T19:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-29T19:45:29.911-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-29T19:45:29.911-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Red Sox" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="balance" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="self-confidence" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Poetry" /><title>Ode to the Boston Red Sox</title><content type="html">I actually wrote this poem&amp;nbsp;late last summer, shortly after I was laid off from my job in July, 2010.&amp;nbsp; The Red Sox are now catching some heat.&amp;nbsp; It is not fair, really.&amp;nbsp; They are better than that.&amp;nbsp; But here is some poetry that I offer as my take on "stumbling":&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 18pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; punctuation-wrap: hanging;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #333333; font-family: &amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-font-kerning: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/2010/08/balance.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #6699cc;"&gt;Balance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 18pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; punctuation-wrap: hanging;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #333333; font-family: &amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 0pt;"&gt;For a moment there I stumbled, lost my balance.&lt;br /&gt;
Yes, I fell. It happens, at my age and circumstance.&lt;br /&gt;
While laying on the floor the only thing on my mind&lt;br /&gt;
was that this doesn't seem right.&lt;br /&gt;
I used to walk upright, head held high,&lt;br /&gt;
shoulders back.&lt;br /&gt;
I used to have the self-confidence to stand tall.&lt;br /&gt;
Used to...but lately...&lt;br /&gt;
I momentarily lost my balance.&lt;br /&gt;
I can pull myself up&lt;br /&gt;
And get back on my feet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 18pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; punctuation-wrap: hanging;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 18pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; punctuation-wrap: hanging;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #333333; font-family: &amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 0pt;"&gt;D.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5240505045113283416-5744146585812967520?l=ponderingdave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fdmWl3U02k_jDoR5eTwFrXPxAxg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fdmWl3U02k_jDoR5eTwFrXPxAxg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~4/gdwpalB2uDs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/feeds/6370412293775984095/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5240505045113283416&amp;postID=6370412293775984095&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/6370412293775984095?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/6370412293775984095?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~3/gdwpalB2uDs/spider-on-porch.html" title="Spider on the Porch" /><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15114829571323709364</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPRXtIea8Ao/TJOb3U0oX0I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/dzQ8hQvT8AM/S220/dave1.jpg.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wKiPHlbvVkg/TmMOYaIYK7I/AAAAAAAAAGA/t7xfbQMrKJ8/s72-c/100_0864.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/2011/09/spider-on-porch.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak4FQ3s6cSp7ImA9WhdXEk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5240505045113283416.post-8655751261090007537</id><published>2011-08-24T16:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-24T16:35:12.519-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-24T16:35:12.519-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Vultures" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="prey" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friends" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="steal" /><title>Vultures</title><content type="html">&lt;span lang="EN"&gt;Vultures&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
A World of Vultures&lt;br /&gt;
they prey on your soul&lt;br /&gt;
And if you would feed them&lt;br /&gt;
they never let go.&lt;br /&gt;
They eat of your food&lt;br /&gt;
and steal from your friends&lt;br /&gt;
And when they have your beginnings&lt;br /&gt;
they'll take up your ends.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;C. 1979&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Just digging through my files and found this little poem.&amp;nbsp; I don't remember the inspiration, I don't remember the context.&amp;nbsp; It might have just been the cadence and rhyme that got me going.&amp;nbsp; I hope you enjoy it.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;D.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5240505045113283416-8655751261090007537?l=ponderingdave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/eJkglMEd8ZTp0OmNHeDG0nbb5OQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/eJkglMEd8ZTp0OmNHeDG0nbb5OQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~4/c412_CHSU4k" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/feeds/8655751261090007537/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5240505045113283416&amp;postID=8655751261090007537&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/8655751261090007537?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/8655751261090007537?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~3/c412_CHSU4k/vultures.html" title="Vultures" /><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15114829571323709364</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPRXtIea8Ao/TJOb3U0oX0I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/dzQ8hQvT8AM/S220/dave1.jpg.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/2011/08/vultures.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUEFSH87eyp7ImA9WhdQFEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5240505045113283416.post-5036063127908829683</id><published>2011-08-15T20:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-15T20:00:19.103-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-15T20:00:19.103-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Queen Mary" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Ca Harbor" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Famous Dave's BBQ" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Long Beach" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="American Pride Schooner" /><title>Long Beach, California Harbor view</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;This past weekend we made a trek to the Los Angeles area for a wedding.&amp;nbsp; The day after, on our way home, we stopped in Long Beach for lunch and to walk around.&amp;nbsp; We were in Long Beach to take advantage of the free BBQ dinner being offered to all people named Dave, David or Davy by&amp;nbsp;“Famous  Daves BBQ”.&amp;nbsp;And all the Daves were extremely friendly.&amp;nbsp; After a great lunch, we decided to take a leisurely walk back to the car.&amp;nbsp; So we decided to walk along the water.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;There is a point in Long Beach  harbor, near the aquarium, where you can look out to sea, past the American  Pride schooner, past the lighthouse, and you can see the Queen Mary cruise  liner/Hotel.  Just beyond the Queen Mary is the new cruise terminal.   And docked at the new terminal was a huge, modern cruise ship.&amp;nbsp; (I didn't catch the name.)&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"&gt; The beauty of the  view was the juxtaposition of the old and new.  An old three  masted schooner, an  old warning system (lighthouse),  with the new, the Queen  Mary and the new modern, state-of-the-art cruise ship, with its diesel engines  and satellite weather monitoring system.  Just a beautiful view.   It was a nice walk.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9I9824hPNe4/Tknc7ik94kI/AAAAAAAAAF8/vixfBTLXHwk/s1600/longbeach+harbor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9I9824hPNe4/Tknc7ik94kI/AAAAAAAAAF8/vixfBTLXHwk/s320/longbeach+harbor.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;Just don’t look at the litter  floating in the water...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;D.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5240505045113283416-5036063127908829683?l=ponderingdave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vqGLgDQBzhUxWNxaZjOfnju4hog/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vqGLgDQBzhUxWNxaZjOfnju4hog/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~4/0qYlBUeIuXE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/feeds/5036063127908829683/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5240505045113283416&amp;postID=5036063127908829683&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/5036063127908829683?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/5036063127908829683?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~3/0qYlBUeIuXE/long-beach-california-harbor-view.html" title="Long Beach, California Harbor view" /><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15114829571323709364</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPRXtIea8Ao/TJOb3U0oX0I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/dzQ8hQvT8AM/S220/dave1.jpg.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9I9824hPNe4/Tknc7ik94kI/AAAAAAAAAF8/vixfBTLXHwk/s72-c/longbeach+harbor.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/2011/08/long-beach-california-harbor-view.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak8ASHwyfyp7ImA9WhdSEkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5240505045113283416.post-2164173216241541676</id><published>2011-07-20T20:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-20T20:27:29.297-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-20T20:27:29.297-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="eggs in a basket" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="summer job" /><title>Chicken Sitting</title><content type="html">Yes, I said chicken sitting.&amp;nbsp; One of my daughter's best friends from high school is home from college this summer.&amp;nbsp;She was staying with some friends and watching their nine&amp;nbsp;chickens while the family is&amp;nbsp;on vacation.&amp;nbsp; In our town you can have chickens as long as there is no rooster.&amp;nbsp; This keeps the noise down.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
My daughter's friend came by tonight to drop off some of the eggs she has been collecting for the past week.&amp;nbsp; We hadn't seen her all summer.&amp;nbsp; She is like another daughter to me.&amp;nbsp; I am extremely proud of her.&amp;nbsp; She had about three dozen eggs.&lt;br /&gt;
She came over right after&amp;nbsp;dinner.&amp;nbsp; She came in dressed like a little farm girl.&amp;nbsp; So cute. She had about three dozen&amp;nbsp;eggs in cartons which she carried in a little basket.&amp;nbsp; Yes, a basket.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was aghast.&amp;nbsp; I told her that I was shocked that she would do that.&amp;nbsp; After all the advice that everyone has given her over the years she should have known.&amp;nbsp; You never put all of your eggs in one basket.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
D.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5240505045113283416-2164173216241541676?l=ponderingdave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cVg30FIg1vLhqZmy5l1V_L3L6V0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cVg30FIg1vLhqZmy5l1V_L3L6V0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~4/Xb0r2R9Go_Y" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/feeds/2164173216241541676/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5240505045113283416&amp;postID=2164173216241541676&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/2164173216241541676?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/2164173216241541676?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~3/Xb0r2R9Go_Y/chicken-sitting.html" title="Chicken Sitting" /><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15114829571323709364</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPRXtIea8Ao/TJOb3U0oX0I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/dzQ8hQvT8AM/S220/dave1.jpg.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/2011/07/chicken-sitting.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUEASHwyeyp7ImA9WhZbEEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5240505045113283416.post-5085281163507763669</id><published>2011-06-14T16:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-14T16:20:49.293-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-14T16:20:49.293-07:00</app:edited><title>I Told Her</title><content type="html">She says she stays awake at night &lt;br /&gt;
Just to hear me breathe.&lt;br /&gt;
She says she needs to assure herself&lt;br /&gt;
That I would never leave.&lt;br /&gt;
I'm not sure what I can say, &lt;br /&gt;
I said I would never go.&lt;br /&gt;
I told her that when we wed, &lt;br /&gt;
Twenty glad years ago. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
David Normand&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;Copyright, July, 2007&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5240505045113283416-5085281163507763669?l=ponderingdave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IGk3xRMBdFuxvtwfVySm5VCGqNE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IGk3xRMBdFuxvtwfVySm5VCGqNE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~4/AVloWOW8gbI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/feeds/5085281163507763669/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5240505045113283416&amp;postID=5085281163507763669&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/5085281163507763669?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/5085281163507763669?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~3/AVloWOW8gbI/i-told-her.html" title="I Told Her" /><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15114829571323709364</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPRXtIea8Ao/TJOb3U0oX0I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/dzQ8hQvT8AM/S220/dave1.jpg.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-told-her.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkAFRX85cSp7ImA9WhZVE0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5240505045113283416.post-5293027269316328421</id><published>2011-05-25T17:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-25T17:11:54.129-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-25T17:11:54.129-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="vows of silence" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="what material are you?" /><title>Random Thoughts</title><content type="html">For some time now I have been considering taking a vow of silence. I am mentioning this here because in my thoughts I consider a great many things. I have debates on a myriad of issues. Life and death, right and wrong. But I get distracted and find myself speaking.&amp;nbsp;And - for all of my friends - you know I suffer from hoof and mouth disease. I sometimes only open my mouth to change feet. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am more thoughtful on paper. Like a well-trained dog. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
[I am posting this consideration here because if I posted it on Facebook I know there are a cadre of people (family AND friends) who would heartily endorse and encourage that prospect. They would love to shut me up.] &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
===================================================================&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I think my daughter started this thought with me:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What material are you?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Are you Wool? Good in any weather.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Are you silk? Usable only in the fairest weather.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am water. Sometimes I get steamed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But I can roll with the flow.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sometimes I freeze, can’t be moved, and I can be pretty cold. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
D.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5240505045113283416-5293027269316328421?l=ponderingdave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MQaXXKWXRCmvEnNBqMJNug74QpU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MQaXXKWXRCmvEnNBqMJNug74QpU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MQaXXKWXRCmvEnNBqMJNug74QpU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MQaXXKWXRCmvEnNBqMJNug74QpU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~4/3kk1QdLktaU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/feeds/5293027269316328421/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5240505045113283416&amp;postID=5293027269316328421&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/5293027269316328421?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/5293027269316328421?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~3/3kk1QdLktaU/random-thoughts.html" title="Random Thoughts" /><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15114829571323709364</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPRXtIea8Ao/TJOb3U0oX0I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/dzQ8hQvT8AM/S220/dave1.jpg.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/2011/05/random-thoughts.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkEFQHs5eyp7ImA9WhZSFEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5240505045113283416.post-413917796043762315</id><published>2011-03-29T20:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-29T20:10:11.523-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-29T20:10:11.523-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="13 colonies" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Final Jeopardy" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="coastline" /><title>Final Jeopardy Question</title><content type="html">On tonight's episode of Jeopardy there was an interesting final question.&amp;nbsp; The question was (I will paraphrase it) "With 301 miles of coastline, this state has the longest coastline of all the states that were part of the original 13 colonies."&amp;nbsp; I paused the show and my wife and I started our deliberations. I called my son in from the other room.&amp;nbsp; We all had a great discussion.&amp;nbsp;My son&amp;nbsp;telling me several times that I was wrong.&amp;nbsp; We each chose our answers and resumed the show.&amp;nbsp; The answer was....&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My wife got it right.&amp;nbsp; Or close to it.&amp;nbsp; I was wrong, as was my son.&amp;nbsp; But as he was leaving the room he said he was right about one thing.&amp;nbsp; I asked him what.&amp;nbsp; He said "I was right about you being wrong."&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Teenagers.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Geesh!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5240505045113283416-413917796043762315?l=ponderingdave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6veSI5tnoZkGKQfx3F8Gv5YVj_I/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6veSI5tnoZkGKQfx3F8Gv5YVj_I/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6veSI5tnoZkGKQfx3F8Gv5YVj_I/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6veSI5tnoZkGKQfx3F8Gv5YVj_I/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~4/8HcO40iwYLs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/feeds/413917796043762315/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5240505045113283416&amp;postID=413917796043762315&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/413917796043762315?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/413917796043762315?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~3/8HcO40iwYLs/final-jeopardy-question.html" title="Final Jeopardy Question" /><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15114829571323709364</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPRXtIea8Ao/TJOb3U0oX0I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/dzQ8hQvT8AM/S220/dave1.jpg.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/2011/03/final-jeopardy-question.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck4CQn0zeyp7ImA9Wx9bGUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5240505045113283416.post-2080568357928595071</id><published>2011-02-28T16:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-28T16:56:03.383-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-28T16:56:03.383-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Oscars" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Anne Hathaway" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="James Franco" /><title>2011 Oscar Broadcast</title><content type="html">I watched the Oscar's last night along with my wife.&amp;nbsp; And I don't mind the broadcast being longer than four hours.&amp;nbsp; We love going to movies so this is kind of a tradition for us.&amp;nbsp; I thought that Anne Hathaway did a great job with her hosting duties.&amp;nbsp;I think she really shined and she was the highlight of the duo.&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I think she is a great character.&amp;nbsp; I thought James Franco looked a little "out of place".&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I think both are extremely talented in their own ways and I was hoping for the best in the broadcast.&amp;nbsp; I was hoping that they would do well.&amp;nbsp;And I think Anne did.&amp;nbsp; She is funny.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We are looking forward to seeing the rest of the nominated movies.&amp;nbsp; We will have to&amp;nbsp;rent them.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Happy movie going.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
D.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5240505045113283416-2080568357928595071?l=ponderingdave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/u_GksAk1yTDxwRAaQTXde8a8NRs/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/u_GksAk1yTDxwRAaQTXde8a8NRs/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/u_GksAk1yTDxwRAaQTXde8a8NRs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/u_GksAk1yTDxwRAaQTXde8a8NRs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~4/hyznngk5oWw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/feeds/2080568357928595071/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5240505045113283416&amp;postID=2080568357928595071&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/2080568357928595071?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/2080568357928595071?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~3/hyznngk5oWw/2011-oscar-broadcast.html" title="2011 Oscar Broadcast" /><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15114829571323709364</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPRXtIea8Ao/TJOb3U0oX0I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/dzQ8hQvT8AM/S220/dave1.jpg.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/2011/02/2011-oscar-broadcast.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08ESH07fip7ImA9Wx9bE0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5240505045113283416.post-1137072236722416101</id><published>2011-02-21T22:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-21T22:23:29.306-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-21T22:23:29.306-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="notes" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="writer's" /><title>conferences</title><content type="html">It has been suggested to me that I should attend a very prestigious writer's conference which I have attended before.&amp;nbsp; Unfortunately, this year I have nothing to present.&amp;nbsp; I have nothing complete to present.&amp;nbsp; I have many works in the planning stage but I have been planning on those for years now.&amp;nbsp; I still add notes to the files but I have not constructed any paragraphs or story boards yet.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am a work in progress.&amp;nbsp; I am a compilation of notes and typos.&amp;nbsp; I need an editor.&amp;nbsp; I need a publisher.&amp;nbsp; I need someone to push me.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Besides, I get distracted.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
D.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5240505045113283416-1137072236722416101?l=ponderingdave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mqbE0kWCakZxjGzJYPmQ89gS9Fw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mqbE0kWCakZxjGzJYPmQ89gS9Fw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mqbE0kWCakZxjGzJYPmQ89gS9Fw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mqbE0kWCakZxjGzJYPmQ89gS9Fw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~4/vU8IoAZ8hrE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/feeds/1137072236722416101/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5240505045113283416&amp;postID=1137072236722416101&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/1137072236722416101?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/1137072236722416101?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~3/vU8IoAZ8hrE/conferences.html" title="conferences" /><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15114829571323709364</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPRXtIea8Ao/TJOb3U0oX0I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/dzQ8hQvT8AM/S220/dave1.jpg.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/2011/02/conferences.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkUCSHg7eCp7ImA9Wx9XGUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5240505045113283416.post-4597949186909417547</id><published>2011-01-13T19:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-13T20:11:09.600-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-13T20:11:09.600-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Sept 11th" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="hope" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Christina Taylor Green" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="remembrance" /><title>Christina's Day</title><content type="html">Hello All.&amp;nbsp; I hope you are having a great week.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was watching the news tonight and there were several stories about little Christina Taylor Green's funeral.&amp;nbsp; I was, have been all weekend, deeply touched by this little girl's life.&amp;nbsp; It sounds like she led a charmed life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe it is&amp;nbsp;coincidence that she was born on September 11, 2001.&amp;nbsp; But I am sure she was a gift from God.&amp;nbsp; Her life and death may not tell us any thing more than life is preciously short and we must make the best of it.&amp;nbsp; I know that was said during her service.&amp;nbsp; "Make the most of your time here."&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And I had an idea.&amp;nbsp; Why not call September 11th, in addition to a day of rememberance, why not make it a day of hope.&amp;nbsp; Let's call it Christina's day.&amp;nbsp; I think she deserves it.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
David.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5240505045113283416-4597949186909417547?l=ponderingdave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wduSAVV3-suJHQ4YUpbzQUo6PHM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wduSAVV3-suJHQ4YUpbzQUo6PHM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wduSAVV3-suJHQ4YUpbzQUo6PHM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wduSAVV3-suJHQ4YUpbzQUo6PHM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~4/pSuJ_DLf77M" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/feeds/4597949186909417547/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5240505045113283416&amp;postID=4597949186909417547&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/4597949186909417547?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/4597949186909417547?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~3/pSuJ_DLf77M/christinas-day.html" title="Christina's Day" /><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15114829571323709364</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPRXtIea8Ao/TJOb3U0oX0I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/dzQ8hQvT8AM/S220/dave1.jpg.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/2011/01/christinas-day.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkMESX49eyp7ImA9Wx9XE0o.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5240505045113283416.post-4586094016502810653</id><published>2011-01-06T20:26:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-06T20:26:48.063-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-06T20:26:48.063-08:00</app:edited><title>Ponderings</title><content type="html">Does paper have DNA?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5240505045113283416-4586094016502810653?l=ponderingdave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-JS3ebF8IakMqhug72WszfSucBI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-JS3ebF8IakMqhug72WszfSucBI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-JS3ebF8IakMqhug72WszfSucBI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-JS3ebF8IakMqhug72WszfSucBI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~4/drAg5FJwfac" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/feeds/4586094016502810653/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5240505045113283416&amp;postID=4586094016502810653&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/4586094016502810653?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/4586094016502810653?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~3/drAg5FJwfac/ponderings.html" title="Ponderings" /><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15114829571323709364</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPRXtIea8Ao/TJOb3U0oX0I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/dzQ8hQvT8AM/S220/dave1.jpg.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/2011/01/ponderings.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C08MRX88fCp7ImA9Wx9REkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5240505045113283416.post-4040855813246874004</id><published>2010-12-12T19:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-12T19:44:44.174-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-12T19:44:44.174-08:00</app:edited><title>Diamonds and stones</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;While talking to my daughter the other day, we discussed some of her many experiences in Europe.&amp;nbsp; Some were good, some were bad.&amp;nbsp; I paraphrased the old John Denver song, “Some Days are Diamonds”, and&amp;nbsp; told her that "life will give you experiences like that.&amp;nbsp; Some experiences are diamonds and are treated as cherished gems.&amp;nbsp; Other experiences are just stones and you use those stones to skip across the waters of life and amuse yourself by how mundane they are."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;D.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5240505045113283416-4040855813246874004?l=ponderingdave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/S9LVlslqY2RiLOE1bArcyY17RJw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/S9LVlslqY2RiLOE1bArcyY17RJw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~4/mv1UH3ZeOY4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/feeds/4040855813246874004/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5240505045113283416&amp;postID=4040855813246874004&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/4040855813246874004?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/4040855813246874004?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~3/mv1UH3ZeOY4/diamonds-and-stones.html" title="Diamonds and stones" /><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15114829571323709364</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPRXtIea8Ao/TJOb3U0oX0I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/dzQ8hQvT8AM/S220/dave1.jpg.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/2010/12/diamonds-and-stones.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEENQH86eyp7ImA9Wx9TEko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5240505045113283416.post-6383051585295199382</id><published>2010-11-18T23:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-20T10:11:31.113-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-20T10:11:31.113-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="El Cajon" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="&quot;Bleep My Dad Says&quot;" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="San Diego" /><title>Hometown Notoriety</title><content type="html">Greetings from&amp;nbsp;a suburb of San Diego, Ca.&amp;nbsp; Ok.&amp;nbsp; As I get deeper into this blogging thing I am putting more clues to my location.&amp;nbsp; I was hoping to keep it rather generic (So. California) but that is proving to be difficult.&amp;nbsp; There is so much I want to write about that details are leaking through. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Tonight on the CBS sitcom,&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="tl"&gt; &lt;a class="l" href="http://www.cbs.com/primetime/my_dad_says/video/" onmousedown="return clk(this.href,'','','','2','','0CCYQFjAB')"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #2200c1;"&gt;$#*! My Dad Says &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, my hometown was mentioned.&amp;nbsp; It is not surprising considering that the show itself is set in San Diego and El Cajon is a suburb, a small town about 8 miles away.&amp;nbsp; There should be a sense of pride when your hometown gets mentioned on a national television show, but not tonight.&amp;nbsp; Tonight, this show mentioned my hometown as the "anus of America".&amp;nbsp; It really isn't.&amp;nbsp; (My wife and I have in the past referred to it as the "armpit of America", but really only in jest and, kind of affectionately.)&amp;nbsp; At any rate, it was nice to be mentioned.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="tl"&gt;In all fairness, I should state that El Cajon is really a nice little town.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="tl"&gt;At one time&amp;nbsp;in the 1990's the mayor wanted the city to be known as "The City of Trees" and he suggested that we all plant trees.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="tl"&gt;The words "El Cajon" in Spanish mean "the box".&amp;nbsp; El Cajon sits in a small valley that is shaped like a box.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="tl"&gt;It is the home to Parkway Plaza Mall and the airport, Gillespie Field, (which has an annual air show and a flight museum) &lt;a href="http://www.sandiegan.com/airports/gillespie-field/"&gt;http://www.sandiegan.com/airports/gillespie-field/&lt;/a&gt;.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="tl"&gt;El Cajon is home to the Olaf Wieghorst Museum and Western Heritage Center &lt;a href="http://www.wieghorstmuseum.org/"&gt;http://www.wieghorstmuseum.org/&lt;/a&gt;.&amp;nbsp; My wife and I used to live a half a block from this old house.&amp;nbsp; We always wondered what it was.&amp;nbsp; It was an old house with a strange looking wall around the yard.&amp;nbsp; It wasn't until years later that we realized it was the home of a famous Western artist.&amp;nbsp; And then they made it into a museum.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="tl"&gt;We used to have an amusement park (Frasier's Frontier - before that, Marshal Scotty's) but it closed.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="tl"&gt;We used to have a race track, too.&amp;nbsp; But it closed too.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="tl"&gt;Ok, well that about covers it.&amp;nbsp; Come and visit sometime.&amp;nbsp; Enjoy the weather.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="tl"&gt;D. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Update, November 20, 2010:&amp;nbsp; El Cajon also has the annual Mother Goose Parade, which has been called the largest parade&amp;nbsp;"&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;in San Diego County and the largest of its type west of&amp;nbsp; the Mississippi" &lt;/span&gt;River.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5240505045113283416-6383051585295199382?l=ponderingdave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rqPLGAFOueFsVFk0jrK3l9uLqko/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rqPLGAFOueFsVFk0jrK3l9uLqko/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~4/JNOkdDnuK58" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/feeds/6383051585295199382/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5240505045113283416&amp;postID=6383051585295199382&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/6383051585295199382?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/6383051585295199382?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~3/JNOkdDnuK58/hometown-notoriety.html" title="Hometown Notoriety" /><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15114829571323709364</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPRXtIea8Ao/TJOb3U0oX0I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/dzQ8hQvT8AM/S220/dave1.jpg.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/2010/11/hometown-notoriety.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUENQ34yfyp7ImA9Wx9TEEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5240505045113283416.post-1018955141158561417</id><published>2010-11-17T12:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-17T17:28:12.097-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-17T17:28:12.097-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="A Glorious Day" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="church bells" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="grocery shopping" /><title>A Glorious Day</title><content type="html">Have you ever woken up on any ordinary day and felt more than ordinary?&amp;nbsp; Today started like any other day. I slept well.&amp;nbsp; I had a decent breakfast and coffee.&amp;nbsp; Got the wife and boy (er, young man)&amp;nbsp;off to school, settled down to my coffee, breakfast and newspaper (really, articles from&amp;nbsp;internet news sites) and I was ready to meet the day.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
About mid morning I started looking for a snack and going through the fridge.&amp;nbsp; I could see nothing in there for dinner.&amp;nbsp; I might have to go to the store.&amp;nbsp; It is amazing that a small decision can turn into a glorious revelation.&amp;nbsp; I decided that I would need to go to the store.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After my shower I stepped onto the front porch.&amp;nbsp; What a beautiful and glorious day.&amp;nbsp; I think I will walk.&amp;nbsp; Not a cloud in the sky, the temperature was about 70ºF, I could see the birds dancing on my lawn.&amp;nbsp; I walked to the store.&amp;nbsp; Not a bad walk.&amp;nbsp; No traffic. No noise other than the birds and babies crying in houses along the way.&amp;nbsp; Babies crying meant that my neighbors had their windows open on this beautiful autumn day in southern California.&amp;nbsp; Very nice walk indeed.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At the store I bought fresh vegetables, garlic and ginger.&amp;nbsp; How about stir fry for dinner? I carried my reusable canvas shopping bag with me.&amp;nbsp; The one with the shoulder strap, like a bindle sack (&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bindle"&gt;http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bindle&lt;/a&gt;).&amp;nbsp; An easy way to carry groceries home.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
On my way home I decided to walk by the Presbyterian church.&amp;nbsp; And it just so happens that it is 12 o'clock.&amp;nbsp; The church bells started to ring as if to remind me to Whom this day belongs.&amp;nbsp; They also reminded me of my wife.&amp;nbsp; She loves our neighborhood, in part because of these bells.&amp;nbsp; Talking to her on this beautiful, glorious day reminds me why I married her.&amp;nbsp; She is the one with whom&amp;nbsp;I want to share this moment.&amp;nbsp; And thanks to our modern cell phone technology I did.&amp;nbsp; It was great hearing her voice.&amp;nbsp; She lifts my spirit.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am having a good day.&amp;nbsp; I will soon be employed.&amp;nbsp; I love my wife.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I have two bright, beautiful children growing into responsible adults.&amp;nbsp; I have a good life.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I hope that your day is going well.&amp;nbsp; If it isn't, I hope that it gets better.&amp;nbsp; Have a great day.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Lastly, I would like to share the last line from my horoscope today.&amp;nbsp; The first four lines were very negative and not indicative of my mood.&amp;nbsp; But the last..."Fortunately, you'll have some very valuable help; the heavens are feeling quite harmonious."&amp;nbsp; No kidding!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I already knew that.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
D.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5240505045113283416-1018955141158561417?l=ponderingdave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uhw5SYXQWivYS85aiofwAn_ygKg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uhw5SYXQWivYS85aiofwAn_ygKg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~4/qE4DKBHC2Rk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/feeds/1018955141158561417/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5240505045113283416&amp;postID=1018955141158561417&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/1018955141158561417?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5240505045113283416/posts/default/1018955141158561417?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Ponderingdave/~3/qE4DKBHC2Rk/glorious-day.html" title="A Glorious Day" /><author><name>David</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15114829571323709364</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="26" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPRXtIea8Ao/TJOb3U0oX0I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/dzQ8hQvT8AM/S220/dave1.jpg.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ponderingdave.blogspot.com/2010/11/glorious-day.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkANRXc4cCp7ImA9Wx5aFEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5240505045113283416.post-7582491403858783825</id><published>2010-11-10T22:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-10T22:59:54.938-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-10T22:59:54.938-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pad thai" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Bangkok Orchid Thai Restaurant" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="panang curry" /><title>Bangkok Orchid Thai Restaurant</title><content type="html">The other night we&amp;nbsp;had a terrific dinner.&amp;nbsp; Wonderful flavors, very satisfying.&amp;nbsp; I have done the calculations here before.&amp;nbsp; There are about 15 restaurants within walking distance of my house (1-2 miles).&amp;nbsp; My wife and I decided to take a walk out for dinner to a local restaurant.&amp;nbsp; We were going to go to Souplantation but my son decided that Thai food was a better choice for a Tuesday.&amp;nbsp; We went to the Thai restaurant next door.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This new restaurant has been open for several months.&amp;nbsp; I was extremely excited when I saw that they were going to open.&amp;nbsp; The only other Thai restaurant in the area is a bit farther away, a longer walk and we don't get there much.&amp;nbsp; But this one is very close by.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My son is 16 and making a lot of great decisions lately.&amp;nbsp; He is growing up.&amp;nbsp; His palate is developing quite nicely.&amp;nbsp; I am teaching him to cook and he is discovering new food items.&amp;nbsp; He just recently posted on his Facebook page that he "love[s] Thai food".&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The last three times we had been there we ordered the&amp;nbsp;Leaf&amp;nbsp;Wrapped Savories.&amp;nbsp; We all loved it for the variety.&amp;nbsp; Spinach leaves to wrap coconut,&amp;nbsp;diced ginger, peanuts, bean sprouts, and carrots.&amp;nbsp; Top those wraps with&amp;nbsp;a Thai sauce really makes this an awesome beginning.&amp;nbsp; Every flavor comes through in its original glory.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
On those previous occasions we tried the standard Pad Thai noodles with chicken or shrimp.&amp;nbsp; Both very good dishes.&amp;nbsp; My wife ordered the&amp;nbsp;Pad&amp;nbsp;Thai&amp;nbsp;Chicken on this night.&amp;nbsp; Previously I ordered&amp;nbsp;some things I hadn't&amp;nbsp;tried before.&amp;nbsp; I wanted to&amp;nbsp;experience some different flavors.&amp;nbsp; On occasion I was surprised by the heat.&amp;nbsp; But the heat doesn't last long.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Keeping with my sense of adventure I ordered something new.&amp;nbsp; Calamari Panang Curry.&amp;nbsp; The flavors were quite simply extraordinary.&amp;nbsp; A very nice meal.&amp;nbsp;The Kaffir lime leaves and lemongrass were just fantastic.&amp;nbsp;I was also pleased that&amp;nbsp;it came in a coconut sauce.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I&amp;nbsp;vowed&amp;nbsp;to try this dish at home.&amp;nbsp; I have the recipe right here as I write this.&amp;nbsp; Someday I will try it.&amp;nbsp; It is that good.&amp;nbsp; I would love to&amp;nbsp;make it a part of my repertoire.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have made up my mind to come back and try some other new and interesting entree'.&amp;nbsp; Bangkok Orchid Thai has an extensive menu.&amp;nbsp; I could be quite happy for the next six months.&amp;nbsp; I think I will be.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The owner has assured me that the Panang Curry is great with scallops.&amp;nbsp; I love scallops.&amp;nbsp; Look for me there next week.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
D.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5240505045113283416-7582491403858783825?l=ponderingdave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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