Surf’s Up with Father and Daughter

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Father getting ready checking the surf while daughter plays in the sand.

 

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When he is ready, he wades the waters and she bravely treads in with him.

 

 

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As it gets deeper, he places her on his long board and off they go.

 

i did not have a long enough lens nor good enough camera to record their return on the larger waves.

As my husband and I watched this amazing short drama, we noticed the little blonde in the shallow surf. Unafraid, she dove again and again in the churning white surf. Fearless, she steadily got up and dove in over and over again.

After Dad finished his stretching on the beach, he picked up his long board and she hopped over excited and jumping up and down. He walked down the beach, she followed and like all children stopped and fiddled with the sand. He kept going and she would look and up and follow. Trust!

After he checked if she was ready, and she hopped up and down again, they got in the water and he paddled them off into the riptide.

Obviously he is an incredible surfer. Obviously he did not need a long board, he could have used a short one with ease but this attentive man brought a long surf board to take his little girl out. Without “teaching” and with just spending a few precious hours with his daughter, he bolstered her up and encouraged her as she learned the skill of riding the waves.

On the way back, riding the waves, we saw him hold her up, show her how to lean always keeping his hands on her. On the second wave, he actually picked her up and moved forward on the board to make it go faster.

Once on shore, her excitement was evident and she clapped her little hands, jumped up and down again and looked up at him with trust born of her short experience in life.

My husband and I were amazed and moved by the whole scene. Whether he knew it or not, this amazing man was making memories with his little girl, making her more confident and self-assured for future success.

 

Shopping in person

“Women who shop by telephone do not know what the pleasures of buying are.”

The Death of the Heart by Elizabeth Bowen.

 

It is true that people who shop by telephone or as it stands now, by internet miss the communication that shopping in person allows.

 

When buying fabric one touches and feels the textures. When buying food, one smells the sweetness, the sourness or sees the freshness of a melon or a peach.

 

The actual act of choosing and putting back a purchase is in itself a satisfying action of the soul. It gives the buyer the right to pick and choose what they buy, making it  satisfying to their senses.

 

A persimmon in a picture is beautiful. But, it will not be the same persimmon delivered to your door if you are not there to pick it. Children and adults go to pumpkin farms to pick their own pumpkin right out of the ground. The pumpkins are there on the dirt they grew out of and get chosen to be taken home by a child. There is almost an act of love in that choice.

 

The actual interaction between buyer and seller is lost in the telephone and internet shopping venture. There is direct human contact with the act of giving and receiving, in buying and selling. Money has to be exchanged. Trust has to be built. Smiles are exchanged. A feeling of wholeness and well being as you walk away with your purchases having been satisfied by the interaction.

 

Money seems removed from people who are wealthy. In that, they do not use actual currency. Very few carry cash. In this day and age of computers and automation, it makes no sense. Everything is delivered, from merchant to laborer. Even money in the form of credit cards, is delivered from the bank to the credit card company without involvement of the buyer.

 

Things are moving forward and that is good and wonderful. We have to progress and move along with the times. Yet, just a reminder, be careful how much you automate your life, be careful how much you separate yourself and be aware of the consequences of isolation.

Two of O Henry’s Beloved Short Stories

One of my favorite authors ever is O Henry. Opinions differ strongly on the man’s work but he is as realistic in his recounting as Norman rockwell was in his painting.

Having read then left his stories on a shelf for a long time, in the last few days, I ran across them when downloading books to listen to. Taking O Henry with me on my evening walk, he again inspired me. The stories he wove are simple and the characters interesting and attractive. His surprise endings remain appealing and sometimes even jarring.

The next day, I sat at my work table and drew out book covers for two of his short stories. Yes, I know we do not “publish” on paper much these days but what can I say, I was inspired. I share with you two of his stories and include places where you can get them absolutely free to read and enjoy.

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The Last Leaf

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The Gift of the Magi

Book Review: Crome Yellow by Aldous Huxley

Crome Yellow by Aldous Huxley

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Aldous Huxley

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Book Cover: Crome Yellow

I kept waiting for things to happen in this story but you could say my mind is marred by the fast pace of the present. At a lazy and wonderful pace of the country home, things do happen.

A true 20s piece of literature, Crome Yellow describes the descent of several people on a country estate to mooch off the owner. A collection of individuals different and lost as it were in their time spend all their time eating, drinking and doing silly activities even to the extent of hurting themselves. Set in post WWI, morality clashed with life and everyone looked for the truth and reality in their life and what they learned from the horrors of the war.

Huxley satirized the home he frequented with other authors and artists. An image of Garsington Manor, Crome Yellow represented the same refuge and home of Lady Ottoline Morrell.

In the mix is our hero Daniel, a lost poet looking for the next few words. An artist, a young woman, another woman just a bit older, a woman who gambles and lives for the stars, an astrologer and author and so on. These people gather, discuss and ponder the morality of their time. In the mix is a minister who kept a sermon around for so long, it ill-fit the time he repeated it to his congregation.

A historian who is hell bent on writing about Crome Yellow reads to the group from his writings which he finished. Going back and forth between the past and the present showed morality in its best and worst. Nothing changes much as far as that goes. You either have the morals or you do not and it is personal not national.

Well worth the read, Crome Yellow left me a little dazed and much saddened.

Book Review: A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett

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A Little Princess: Book cover

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Frances Hodgson Burnett

Refuse to allow the hardships of life to stop you from the joys it holds. In this charming story, through the character of the heroine, we find grace, kindness and generosity in the face of ugliness and cruelty.

With simplicity and succinct clarity Burnett wrote, drawing the reader, involving them emotionally to her characters.

Our heroine, Sara is a lovely girl of seven with dark hair and green grey eyes. At first we meet a pampered Sara, loved by her dear father who lavishes on his daughter all he could afford. In the hands of a school mistress, he places Sara, trusting the woman to care for his treasured daughter. The child demonstrates generosity of spirit and befriends those who have no one, making friends of the less fortunate and less popular.

Far away, across many miles, he dies in India, leaving his daughter orphaned and poor.

Life takes a sharp downward turn for the delightful child who uses her imagination to overcome the meanness of her caregiver.

Through several situations during her ill use, she demonstrates once again her kindness and generosity to those in even lower positions than her own.

Using her imagination and mind, Sara keeps her flagging spirits and those around her elated as best she could. Mistreated she still finds her imagination salvation to her situation.

The story has a happy ending and I found myself unable to stop from finishing the book in one sitting. It is easy to read or wonderful to follow. A charming fairy tale even adults can enjoy.

Sonia Rumzi

http://www.booksshouldbefree.com/

http://www.gutenberg.org/browse/scores/top

On My Walks What I See

Summer days in Hawaii have harsh sun but evenings are heavenly sent. After changing my routine from day person to night owl, I have reveled in my discoveries and enjoyment of the island. Nighttime walks are the best. Quiet, cool and yet warm Trade Winds never disappoint.

Here I share with you some of the wonderful plants, edible or not. Share my wonder at the beauty.

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Blue Ginger: a gorgeous flower and when the petals open, yellow insides make a delightful spectacle.

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Fig Tree with Figs: May not be ripe yet. But this tree emits the strongest delicious smells as I pass by it. One can never ignore the deliciousness it promises.

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Grapefruit for lack of a better word: I am never sure what it is called but it tastes like grapefruit and grows everywhere here.

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Mangoes at eye level. Yep! Oahu is loaded with mango trees. Still not ripe, they make my mouth water.

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Papaya Trees and fruit: Usually these grow like palm trees, high and inaccessible but in this yard they have six trees at head level.

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Skunk Tree pods that open up to hearts: Nope sorry, not edible and it smells icky. But for all that, when the pods open up in the drying process, they look like hearts. Used often in flower arrangements and craft work.

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Hairy Starfish or the technical name Stapelia Gigantea: A hairy succulent, not edible and also emits nasty smells but looks amazing.

Thank you for joining me on my evening walk.

Limoges and Sevres are my Passion

As I complained that my knowledge of antiques was nil, my bet friend’s mother suggested that ignorance was a choice. All one had to do was pick up a book, start some research and learn how to see and judge what one sees. Sound advice for a twelve year old who took her seriously.

As years went by, I did what she suggested and progressed. I picked up books, visited antique stores and learned. Developing a liking, I saw, bought and collected what I loved. I fell in love with fine china.

Because of my daughter, some of my stuff was saved from the trash or from second hand stores. When I started to travel for work, I got rid of most of what I collected and she saved some of it.

I share with you here some of the pieces I fell in love with over the years and collected. It is not a huge collection neither am I showing you all of it, but it is decent enough.

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Limoges Candy or Jewelry Dish

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Limoges Creamer and Sugar Bowl

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Limoges Hot Chocolate Pot

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Limoges Teapot

Left Handedness Is From the Devil

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Me, left handed cooking.

My first grade teacher (bless her heart) hit me with a ruler because I used my left hand to write. I spent most of the year trying to use my weaker hand for the most important thing in class, writing. I did not do well in school that year or any other for that matter. She believed that being left handed came from the devil who whispered over our shoulders from the very same side, the left side.

But, here is what matters, I am still left handed, while I also use my right hand.

In her attempt to make me a “normal” right handed person, my teacher managed to make me ambidextrous. I do not remember how awful it was to be beaten with a ruler. All I know is that I use both hands now.

I stir food with my left hand and write with my right hand. I change from one hand to the other if the light is just right when I color my drawings. I write with my left hand on a blackboard but sweep the floors with my left hand. I play tennis with my left hand but crocket with my right hand. I surf the web and use a mouse with my right hand but draw with my right hand.

I am sending thanks and blessing to my teacher who made me part of who I am today, Ambidextrous and loving it. Thank you, I am grateful.

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Me, right handed writing.

Sunset in Bolinas.

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“Leave the problems of God to God and karma to karma. Today you’re here and nothing you do will change that. Today you are alive and here and honored and blessed with good fortune. Look at this sunset, it’s beautiful, eh? This sunset exists. Tomorrow does not exist. There is only now. Please look. It is so beautiful and it will never happen ever again, never, not this sunset, never in all infinity. Lose yourself in it, make yourself one with nature and do not worry about karma, yours, mine, or that of the village.”
? James Clavell