Archive for the ‘Story’ Category

Especially for you.

Especially for you.

Love potion number 1965.

Click link to 1965.

Love potion use as instructions specified.

Love potion use as instructions specified.

When I asked, “Do you believe in god.”

she said “No there is only a devil. If there was a god bad things would not happen.”

“You don’t believe the stories in the bible?”

“Not all the stories.”

“Why not?”

“Because it was written by men for men they made God a man. There is no missus God.”
“So what do you believe?”

“I believe greed is a sin, if there was not greed everyone would have enough and be happy.”

“Is greed the cause of all the problems in the world?”

“Ignorance, fear and greed are the causes of all evil, all good things are the result of kindness.”

“You sound like a Buddhist.”

“Religion causes arguments. Let’s change the subject, or we will finish up fighting, let’s make love not war.”


Not from the mouths of these babes,

By love she meant adult play, it was uninhibited physical passionate engagement.
The word love used loosely, as I often do, is ambiguous the word love needs adjectives to define it. Unconditional love – agape in Greek as apposed to Eros or the word meta the Pali word – like parental love.

Wise words.

Wise words.

 My inhibitions prevented me from acting in a totally relaxed and natural way. I loved her and always will remember her free uninhibited love.
Religion gets people mixed up and perverted about their body. Causing natural behaviour to be distorted and can be the cause of mental disorders. Priests, monks and nuns, forced to live an unnatural life, come under a lot of pressure. Recently the Catholic Church has been embarrassed by priests charged with paedophilia.

A red rose has thorns.

A red rose has thorns.

I do not believe these people are evil it is what they are afflicted with that is the problem. Removing these impurities and defilements would restore the person. As waste water is filtered and becomes useful so can corrupt humans, in most cases be reformed.

Passion flower.

Passion flower.

Circumstances play a big part in our life. Life can be turbulent or calm; when we are having a bad hair day we are not at our best. Aussies are good sports men, no underhand play (bowling), when they are winning.
The point is get all the facts don’t be quick to condemn. There is a lot of good in the worst of us and a lot of bad in the best of us, so it is not right for the best of us to judge the rest of us. Who is going to cast the first stone?

More wisdom.

More wisdom.

Read Full Post »

Memory enhanced.

Memory enhanced.

Click on the link below for the music accompaniment.


To Bondi 1of 2 471_4000x3000

As I remember we fitted together like a key in a lock. Until the way-would gypsy in me broke the lock that held us together. I was not ready to nest, I wanted to spread my wings and fly. Like the wild goose Frankie Lain sang about, in the 50s. But it was Judith Durham’s The Carnival is over that was haunting me in the 60s those harbour lights had mesmerised me.

We like to think we are wild geese.

We like to think we are wild geese.

 Life is a puzzle, full of ironies, and words are an imperfect medium to explain it. To allowed the monkey in our mind to wilfully swing from thought to thought is not mindful.  When one consciously lets the mind recall the past, or purposely plan for the future, it is alright. It is when we let our mind run on auto pilot and allow our subconscious to take the wheel we are in danger of losing control.

Who wants a better stove?

Who wants a better stove?

Hurrying to the future is prevalent in the technological world of today. Oblivious of our tasty breakfast we gulp our food to rush to a mundane job. Toiling for more than we need, desiring status symbols or devices we are told will save us time. Time cannot be saved; it is a passing thing that cannot be clung to. Aware, but not consciously aware and mindful, mindful is to be consciously aware, not running on auto pilot.

Full of youthful bounce.

Full of youthful bounce.

Knowing I am dwelling in the past is not fretting or regretting, it is recalling those passionate hot to trot youthful days, when love was synonymous with romance, infatuation and conquest. It is good not to forget those days and criticise the youth of today. Our vocabulary has improved now we know the meaning of reciprocity. Aware that true love is giving more than taking. True love is one thing that the more you give the more you receive.

Will they fall.... in-love ?

Will they fall…. in-love ?

Ignorant of the wisdom of the sages passed down through the ages. Back in my youth I had two gypsies in me, called curiosity and adventure, goading me on. The warm bed the tender caresses forfeited for faraway fields. There is no remorse, only a bitter sweet feeling of what might have been. I am sure I did the right thing; I needed to grow in understanding.

You see a lot when you travel.

You see a lot when you travel.

Traveling alone in foreign lands is the best teacher one can ever have.

May be this is your Christmas wish.

May be this is your Christmas wish.

In my memory she will remain a golden haired girl full of life. In reality I can imagine a grey and wrinkled woman. Our memory can span the ocean of time but an ocean of water has flown under the bridge since the 60s. Perhaps after a long tiresome journey she has gone home to rest. To be a billion dust-mites floating on the morning breeze to sparkle in the morning sun as new life.

A lovely person from the 60s.

A lovely person from the 60s.

Who knows?

I will end my love story here I have revealed enough. I have given you more than you realise, if not what you expected. Sorry if the ending was not a wonderful exciting climax. But this is not a TV romance made to make millions. It is just a story similar to many stories that leave us wondering.

This is the fruity ending, not as you pictured.

This is the fruity ending, not as you pictured.


Read Full Post »

Fully Absorber in the Now.

Watching the action.

Watching the action.


I put the finishing touches to the picture.

Fully focused on what I am doing and thinking of nothing else.

Now I think I’ll pencil it in the calligraphy, then I hear but am not listening.


‘Then see how it looks before using the ink.’


I am aware of the irritable emotion but answer without thinking.

“What’s the problem?”

“You are the problem, I don’t know if you can hear me or are ignoring me.”

“I am absorbed, doing some art.”

“Can’t you just say YES so I know you have heard?”

Aware I am getting annoyed, I should have done my little, count to ten, few deep breaths, unmindful I just respond.

! YES! YES!” Then I realise I am losing my temper.

“Just go back to your art sorry I interrupted you!”

 “No I want to know, should I ring the fire brigade or the police what is the emergency?” That was I realise nasty, sarcasm.

“It is not important, I just wanted to know where you hid the rake, it is not where it should be kept.”

“Sorry, last time I saw it was when we were mulching up the pruning.”

“Well it is not where it should be kept.”

 I am trying to recall what happened.

“I was raking up the last of the leaves; yes, you called me to help put the tarp around the mulching machine. Have you looked in where the mulcher is?”

“No, did you leave it there?”

“May be I was raking up and you asked me to help you with the mulcher I probably just put it down without thinking, I remember putting my gloves back on the bench but can’t remember what I did with the rake.”

“You remember all that but can’t remember where you put the rake.”

“Well I was not thinking at the time I was running on auto pilot, unmindful just responding not fully aware.”

“What’s all this living in the now you have been reading about?”

Two minutes later “I found the rake, where you left it in by the mulcher.”

“That’s great, come and have a look at what I’ve done.”

“I like the surfer catching the wave, but what has that got to do with the writing,

“We only have one moment to live and that is NOW.”

“Well the wave is passing but the surfer has caught it, he is living right in the now.”

“And you left the rake in the past.”

“Let’s not live in the past”

“If you want to live in the now, be mindful of where you leave the rake in future.”

Some times we get dumped.

This is the drawing I was fully absorbed in.


Read Full Post »

Parliament House from The Canberra War Memorial Museum.

Parliament House from The Canberra War Memorial Museum.

A Bad Day in Paradise.

Steps to the War Museum.

Steps to the War Museum.

 Please don’t read this if you are gentle a Jew, a kind Christian or a meek Muslim. Not because I fear the Jihad it is because there are a lot of kind believers and I would not want to upset them or burst their bubble.

the memorial section of the museum.

the memorial section of the museum.

 This post is for me, to get it off my chest so to speak. I am upset with our politicians. Tony Abbott our Prime Minister has us gun-runners to the Kurds. John Howard got us involved in the mess in Iraq about twelve years ago and it has been festering ever since. It will do no good, there has been bloody religious wars for ages, they never learn.

Names of the dead  line both sides above the pool.

Names of the dead line both sides above the pool.

 The Abrahamic God had no wife. He was playing by himself with himself when he made man, in his own image, out of mud and he has been playing war games with us ever since. Is this an ego trip he is having or did man with his big ego make God in his likeness?

The Unknown Soldier.

The Unknown Soldier.

Without fur or feathers man has to fight to survive, to cloth himself in a harsh environment. Without the eyes of an eagle or cat, nose of a dog or the superior senses of other animals. Using his mind he has invented the equivalent abilities, man now thinks himself a God.

Red paper poppies by the names of recent dear.

Red paper poppies and the names of recent dead.

 There is something inexpressible beyond man’s comprehension keeping everything in the cosmos in equilibrium, that man is upsetting with his Abrahamic godlike attitude. Regardless of mortal man it will restore itself. It is eternal and has all the time and patience to outlast man.

Right and wrong.

Right and wrong.

This world is good, but man wants more. God has heaven this is supposed to be perfect, something for man to look forward to, if he is invited.

Peace is what in wanted.

Peace is what is wanted.

If man obeys, for this god tells us he is a vengeful god. 20: 2-6 (esv)

Another mistake, will they never learn.

Another mistake, will they never learn.

Apparently god was not all knowing when he created the earth or he would not have put that tree in the garden and commanded Adam and Eve not to eat the fruit. Or maybe he was all-knowing and realised all good stories need drama. The Bible is a great story with plenty of drama, sex and violence. May be he thought the plot needed a bit of nudity and fig leaves would add to the curiosity.

Thanks for risking your life.

Thanks for risking your life.

Google could not say how many bibles have been printed or how many revisions and new additions have been printed. But it must have been a Google. How many times has it been revised? It is definitely one remarkable book dreamt up by God and edited by man.

Vietnam should  taught us better how to look after our garden.

Vietnam should have taught us better how to look after our garden.

People with righteous intentions arguing, protesting, supplying weapons and fighting wars will never find peace. Peace is found only in loving kindness. Without asking the people politicians take violent action.

They are not having a picnic.

They are not having a picnic.

Are they only puppets, having their strings pulled by the manufactures of weapons of mass destruction? Blow it up, then rebuild it, keeps the wheels of commerce rolling.  Politicians should spend taxes in better ways than running guns.

Do the children visiting here realise.

Do the children visiting here realise.

Read Full Post »

A step in the right direction.

A step in the right direction.

Visit to Santa.

“What would you like for Christmas?”

“Bring me what Jesus wanted.”

“What was that?”

“Peace on Earth.”

“Be reasonable that is not what I am here for, there is no profit in peace.”

“It does not cost the Earth.”

“You are a problem child; ask for something expensive that will help the economy.”

“I would like good-will to everyone.”

“Look kid, stop being difficult, you must have seen something you want advertised on TV.”

“I have all I need; there are people in the world that need the necessities of life.”

“If you don’t want anything, why are you taking up my time?”

“Respect for my Grandfather he is going senile, like second childhood, he believes in Santa Clause, I  believe in God, Jesus and the holy spirit but not in Santa Clause.”

“You are not a child, but you are still not an adult.”

“Why not?”

“Because you still believe in myths, so don’t waste my time.”

St Maries Cathedral Sydney.

St Mary’s Cathedral Sydney.

I made up this story between a shopping complex Santa and a sincere Christian upholding the true values of Christmas. I do not believe any myths, the point of my story is we do not have to believe to have respect. Nor should we disregard the positive things found in other people’s beliefs. The peace and compassion Jesus taught is the same ethical values Jews and Muslims revere. Hindus and Buddhists also promote love and kindness. The conversation shows how the kindness of giving at Christmas has been over commercialized. Read carefully and you will note kindness does not cost the earth, but buying unnecessary luxuries does cost the environment. Giving to those in need will promote peace on earth and reduce hate.

Sydney Town Hall and Christmas lights.

Sydney Town Hall and Christmas lights.

We must grow up, in the past ignorance, fear, hatred and greed have caused conflict and wars. Calling other people’s beliefs myths is not nice, we have a right to our opinion but we must be reciprocal. If we cannot accept some ones opinion we should still respect their feelings. Wars have been caused because of dogmatic people who ironically disregard their own moral values and kill. Greedy people exploit the situation promoting distrust, fear and hate giving religion a bad name. Religion was invented to promote law and order and it has caused chaos.

sydney Town Hall celabrates Christmas.

Sydney Town Hall Christmas lights.

Christmas is a holy day for Christians, for others it is just a holiday and is a wonderful concept if we are sensible and show respect. If we are foolish Christmas can be a disaster. Please be mindful of your action, balance your behavior. Too much Christmas spirit could be your undoing. Be thoughtful in your giving, it need not be expensive, it is the thought you put into picking an appropriate present that counts. We should remember it is not our birthday, so we should not expect gifts. The joy is in giving and the importance of a gift is to expect nothing in return, otherwise it is a deal, a transaction and business as usual.

Chinese Santa at sydney China town.

Chinese Santa at Sydney China town.

Being respectful for others promotes goodwill, if we show respect we will be respected. We do not need to accept everything if it conflicts with our view. Still we can use what is beneficial wherever it is found and accept the gift graciously. Christmas is a holiday I look on as a Christian gift of kindness, opening our hearts to everyone. The best of the Christmas spirit should be practiced on everyone’s birthday. Then there would be peace on earth. Imagine how wonderful it would be if we emulated those admirable qualities attributed to Jesus.

Christmas department stor window display.

Christmas department store window display.

There are things prevalent at Christmas not advantageous to our wellbeing but these negative practices are not only exhibited at Christmas. Over indulgence, wild extravagance and stupidity, no need to rave on, all these cravings are spoiling our wonderful world. In Australia whatever you hold as sacred virtues can be practiced at Christmas, as we are a multicultural country. The mistakes of the past are many, hopefully they can be laid to rest and as a democracy we can be tolerant, for regardless of one’s ideology we are all from the same source, we are one, we all bleed the same colour.

"Look Mummy."

“Look Mummy.”

Tell Santa I would like a small piece of Christmas pudding and want a big piece of peace to share with everyone.

Children enjoy window shopping.

Children enjoy window shopping.

Read Full Post »

Do you believe in dreams?

Almost bed time.

Almost bed time.

I had this dream.

One of Gabriel's friends.

One of Gabriel’s friends.

It is the middle of night, am I dreaming? Perched on the foot of my bed is a winged intruder. I have this strange feeling of déjà vu. My vision is clearing the intruder is an angel, that would explain how it got in here with the door locked and the apartment on the thirteenth floor. I understand that angels are capable of flight; also if I am dreaming anything is possible. Cogito ego sum or je pense donc je suis, I am dreaming I am not multilingual, I think therefore I am, I must be wide awake because I recognize this bloke invading my space.

“ G’day Gabriel what are you doing in Aussie? I inquire.

“I am like the Blues Brothers Jack, I am on a mission from God.”

“More like you are Down-under up to mischief as usual.” fearlessly I tell him.

“I am here to save God’s children; you still carry the sins of your convict fathers.”

I ignore this remark and hit him with one below the belt.

“Are you going to pollinate any virgin flowers this time?” I ask defiantly.

“You got it all wrong that was the Holy Ghost Jack, have you no faith?”

“I suppose the world is ready for another prophet, Mahomet’s poetic words are being undermined by terrorists.” I reply cynically.

“Exactly the world is in a devastating situation.” He says giving me a pleading look.

Here we go again, I Imagine I got that old feeling, this music is going round in my head, like a haunting refrain.  All I can think to say to Gabriel is in Olivia Newton John’s song, “Please mister please I don’t want to ever hear that song again.”

“What song?  Amazing Grace you like all the feeling in that one.”  He said in his coaxing angelic voice.

Not a nice way to spend Easter.

Not a nice way to spend Easter.

“I know what your mission is, to find another prophet like Mahomet or Jesus. No way, Jesus was literally, double crossed, and there’s been nothing but problems since that apple episode in the garden.” Having said that I stop and think, they still have dire straits in Iraq, it is said that was the site of the garden of Eden. I must be coming down with industrial disease or something. I plug-in some music, roll over and to the sound of music and go back to sleep.

Is he dreaming he is a butterfly.

Is he dreaming he is a butterfly.

Next morning I think maybe I have turned down my big chance but I believe it was all a dream. In the light of day I know I am not a butterfly dreaming I am a man. In China a man dreamt he was a butterfly, next day he thought am I a butterfly dreaming I am man. I have read of other similar cases, a man dreamt he was in a garden, picks a flower and when he woke up he has the flower in his hand. There are people who believe in dreams and people who do not. Do you believe the dream I had or do you think am I crazy or just fabricating this story to get you thinking?

Is he dreaming he is a man?

Is he dreaming he is a man?


Read Full Post »

In Tune with life.

Jack’s Cantina

Marty Robbins’ songs date back to the 50’s, the gun slinger ballads. “El Paso,” “Night time would find me at Rosas cantina, music would play and Filina would whirl, one night a wild young cowboy comes in, dancing and daring a drink he was sharing, with wicked Felina the girl that I love, I challenged his right for the hand of this maiden, down went his hand for the gun that he wore, in less than a heart beat his challenge was answered, the handsome young cowboy lay dead on the floor.” Hollywood movies and songs like this made me a milk-bar cowboy. It was a red sports coat and no white carnation; I was the Milky Bar Kid pushing juke box buttons.

The Milky Bar Kid On The Dominator.

“Kaw-Liga (Kalayja) was a wooden Indian standing by the door. He fell in love with an Indian maid over at the antique store, Kaw-Liga too stubborn to let it show, so she could never answer yes or no.” Marty’s hit song “The Story Of My Life,” was written with a Dobro guitar and a Dodge car. The music we encountered in our travels makes us think of our life story, the people, places and all that we once held dear perhaps loved . Memories we recalled when songs are played, take us back down that long road of no return to the land of what might have been.


“When some button pushing cowboy plays that love song and here I am just missing you again.” Olivia Newton John sings that song and some songs affect you in that way. “The Carnival Is Over.” I first heard Judith Durham sing back in the mid sixties and it still causes strong emotions in me. Those two Australian singers I like, not only because of their voices, but also the choice of songs and the memories they bring back. Music touches our heart in a way no other art form can. It is mood provoking. We must be mindful of the music we listen to because it can change our mood. Some songs from a joyous youthful era lift our mood. Then there are the bitter sweet songs of the past with their pensive recollections. That can provoke a melancholy, sentimental feeling of indecision of its merits. This is the time to remind ourselves, it is the now we are living in.

The cowboy out back with the FJ.

I do not regret the decision to sail off to foreign lands I was not ready to settle down. “My heart knows what the wild goose knows and I must go where the wild goose goes”, Frankie Laine, back then I empathized with those words. Like in the movie I escaped through those “Sliding Doors” to Napoli. “La Paloma”, no language barrier, music and a smile are the universal language. “Her eyes were deeper than the bay of Napoli.” Did she return to the Trevi Fountain was thirty lira enough, “I wonder who is kissing her now. I wonder who is teaching her how, Breathing sighs, telling lies; I wonder who’s buying the wine for those lips that I used to call mine. I wonder if she ever tells him of me.” Had the doors not closed my life would have been different but still full of “Heart Ache By The Number,” I was ignorant, a wild goose ready for plucking.

James with geese Pukekura Park.

The carnival is not over I am riding on a merry-go-round, with ups and downs and around and rounds.  “Hot Chocolate”, “You Sexy Thing.” “Mississippi” the Pussycats only hit. “That was my song that was her song but it’s over.” Like “Bridge Over Troubled Waters”, was her song. “Up in the morning out on the job work like the devil for my pay, but that lucky old sun got nothing to do but roll around the heavens all day.“ That was my song. “Dire Straits,” would have diagnosed “Industrial Disease.” No letter, no “Dear John.” “I heard it through the grape vine and I nearly lost my mind.” “Only The Lonely.” Mick was right, “You Can’t Always Get What You Want.” Some songs can motivate and keep us going.

Blues on Broad Beach.

“Xanadu.” “Magic,” you have to believe we are magic. Nothing can stand in our way. If all your hopes survive, your destiny will arrive, and bring all your dreams alive for you.” Then “Before The Next Teardrop Falls” “Jumping Jack Flash,” You know “Thin Lizzy,” well “The Boys Are Back In Town.” “Cream”, “The Sunshine of Your Love,” “Eric Clapton.”  “Stand By Me” “I Want to Hold Your Hand.” “A Whole Lot a Lovin’,”  “Leo Sayer” would sing, “You Make Me Feel Like Dancing.” “With a Rebel Yell, “Billy Idol cried “More, more, more,” and “Another One Bites The Dust,” “Queen,” “Rolling On The River,” Tom Jones. It was “Late In the Evening,” with “Paul Simon,” “Love Is in The Air,“ not “Under The Boardwalk,”  “Down Under,” “Men at Work,” “When They Begin The Begin,” N.Z. 1982 “Hands Up,” eight weeks the top hit, still my top hit.

Jumping Jacks son Jason.

There is a lot more memorable music we embrace and hold tightly to our hearts. We all have our own personal favorites, the music that activates our emotions and shrinks time, taking us back to a long lost past. Like “The Ghost Riders in the Sky,” to an almost forgotten lullaby, that tempts us to break down and cry. But “Even the Bad Times Are Good,”  “There are times in this life of mine. That I think the sun forgot to shine. But as long as you are always there, it don’t bother me for why should I care, when all I got to do is run to you.” “You are My Sunshine, you make me happy when skies are grey, you’ll never know dear how much I love you; please don’t take my sunshine away.”  We will be, “On The Road Again,” with ”Mustang Sally,” at the wheel. “Get your motor running, head out on the highway, looking for adventure and whatever comes our way. Like a true nature’s child, we were borne to be wild. Yeah! Darling, going to make it happen and take the world in a loving embrace.

More adventure off the highway.

Read Full Post »

Shadow of Myself.



Shadow Of myself.

I am part of Pauline’s shadow, we move as one, and without Pauline I would cast a pale shadow.

My three sons have always been the light in my life without their warmth I would not exist at all. I cast more than one shadow, depending on the position of what is elluminating me.

Pauline has eclipsed me but my ego is under control, so I can live with that, there is no reason to get out of step or change step. If I were ever forced to change step, it would be a cloudy day and my shadow would not be so defined.

It is wonderful to have friends, even if they are other peoples. My friends are Pauline’s friends; many would disappear like dew drops in the morning sun without Pauline. Then the clouds would bring rain and the grass would grow again. As for the flowers in my garden, they would never look the same and I would have to work hard for them to bloom at all. My sons would be a help but they have gardens of their own to tend.

When the storm clouds gather, the storm clouds inky black and shadows wax strongly and thunder bolts hurtle, the lightning flickers around my lonely track, you may see an eerie figure shadow all bathed in electric blue, cast by a ghostly figure of a fellow you once knew.

Looking to Surfers Paridise from Burleigh Headland.

I love a sun burnt country, I live down by the sea and except for melanoma, there’s no better place to be. So when you are in Surfers keep an eye out for a shadow obscured by SPF30, the shadow cast by me.

Jacks shadow.

After storm clouds, rainbows tend to appear, and shadows are not so noticeable in soft delicate light. I look for rainbows but during stormy weather, when the world has got me snouted cool fortune’s dirty left has smote my soul, a segmental bloke like me looks at the ones worse off, that gets my mind off me and my troubles.

Troubles and worries all pass, nothing stays the same, time changes both the pleasant and the unpleasant. The past has gone, don’t worry, the now will pass, don’t worry, the future is unknown, don’t worry be happy. It is said worry does not help, but most of the things I have worried about never happened. Keep a positive attitude look at the donut not the hole.

Note. I recall some lines from old favorite Aussie poems and sprinkle them in, see if you can find them.

 4 verse. “Ballard of the Drover.” By Henery Lawson.

Bell Birds.” Henery Kendall.

My Country.” Dorothea Mackllar.

Spring Song.” from . “Songs of The Sentimental Bloke.” C.J. Dennis.

Sunny Out back Winton N.W. Queensland.

Read Full Post »

A fabulous trip into a lost paradise.

It started off as an ordinary fossicking trip till I got on tracks not shown on my map. I was not lost, I could see Mt Warning in the general direction of east. I had just strayed off the path in

Hippi Van.

unfamiliar territory. With not a house in sight, alone with nature, till I came to some folks dressed in rainbow coloured, recycled clothes, sitting, yoga fashion, beside the track. When I inquired about my location they were not much help, they seemed to be lost themselves. I told them I was looking for gem stones and showed them some I carry for trading. They were fascinated. I have never seen people so mesmerized by a few sparkly crystals.

They offered me a cigarette they were sharing. I declined the offer and warned them that nicotine was bad for their health. They assured me that their smoke had no nicotine; it was a medicinal blend of local herbs and grasses. They looked healthy and happy so I joined in their smoko.

The day took on a new dimension. I shared my thermos and picnic lunch. What a way to be lost, captivating, convivial, company in this radiant, enchanted, peaceful, picturesque place. To me being lost felt wonderful. I gave them my gemstones they were so pleased they presented me with a plastic bag of their herbal medicine.

I reluctantly said farewell, the smoke tended to make my eyes water but I was happy in the knowledge I was not the only one lost in paradise. It turned out to be a perfect place to fossick, every stone I saw was a gem. There were too many to carry and I was enjoying the day so why bother to burden myself with heavy stones? The day was too good and I was feeling lazy. No one will ever know how beautiful those stones were as I never bothered to note the location. Home I went empty handed achieving nothing from my trip.

Except I did confirm a couple of old adages, you can’t take it with you, and you only get out of something what you put into it.

Flower People, where have they gone.

Read Full Post »