“The worst part of holding the memories is not the pain. It’s the loneliness of it. Memories need to be shared.”
Lois Lowry, The Giver
Category Archives: LEAST, LOST, LONELY
Perhaps life is a crow that each dawn dips its blackened beak in the holy well of the sun
http://stevemccurry.wordpress.com/2011/01/29/proverbs-and-poems-from-afghanistan/
The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW : 1842 – 1954), Saturday 1 May 1926
Do not yell “dinner” until your knife is in the loaf.
In truth a family is what you make it. It is made strong, not by number of heads counted at the dinner table, but by the rituals you help family members create, by the memories you share, by the commitment of time, caring, and love you show to one another, and by the hopes for the future you have as individuals and as a unit.
MARGE KENNEDY, The Single Parent Family
Read more at http://www.notable-quotes.com/f/family_quotes.html#ApvqFm0DDJ4Pw9gc.99
Beer makes you feel like you should feel without the beer.
foto of izzy foreal at the pub with no beer in taylor’s arm nsw australia
A Pub With No Beer
Oh it’s-a lonesome away from your kindred and all
By the campfire at night we’ll hear the wild dingoes call
But there’s-a nothing so lonesome, morbid or drear
Than to stand in the bar of a pub with no beerNow the publican’s anxious for the quota to come
And there’s a far away look on the face of the bum
The maid’s gone all cranky and the cook’s acting queer
Oh what a terrible place is a pub with no beerThen the stockman rides up with his dry dusty throat
He breasts up to the bar and pulls a wad from his coat
But the smile on his face quickly turns to a sneer
As the barman says sadly the pub’s got no beerThen the swaggie comes in smothered in dust and flies
He throws down his roll and rubs the sweat from his eyes
But when he is told, he says what’s this I hear
I’ve trudged fifty flamin’ miles to a pub with no beerNow there’s a dog on the v’randa, for his master he waits
But the boss is inside drinking wine with his mates
He hurries for cover and he cringes in fear
It’s no place for a dog ’round a pub with no beerAnd old Billy the blacksmith, the first time in his life
Why he’s gone home cold sober to his darling wife
He walks in the kitchen, she says you’re early Bill dear
But then he breaks down and tells her the pub’s got no beerOh it’s hard to believe that there’s customers still
But the money’s still tinkling in the old ancient till
The wine buffs are happy and I know they’re sincere
When they say they don’t care if the pub’s got no beerSo it’s-a lonesome away from your kindred and all
By the campfire at night we’ll hear the wild dingoes call
But there’s-a nothing so lonesome, morbid or drear-a.
Than to stand in the bar of that pub with no beer.
Kathryn Stockett “All I’m saying is, kindness don’t have no boundaries.”
Kathryn Stockett, The Help
“Once you begin to acknowledge random acts of kindness – both the ones you have received and the ones you have given – you can no longer believe that what you do does not matter.”
– Dawna Markova
One doesn’t shear the naked sheep.
Russian
You can shear a sheep many times but you can skin him only once.
But for life’s little defeats and indignities, I would be happy, content and completely average.”
― Mark Rude
“If you are in a pit of stress or despair, don’t succumb to defeat. Don’t accept that difficult place as your fate. Even though God has allowed you to be there right now, he never intended for you to live there. Our God is bigger then whatever problem you are facing. The only way to see past the problem is to believe that he has not forgotten or abandoned you and that, at the exact time that he has ordained, he will reach down and pick you up.”
― Tracie Miles, Stressed-Less Living: Finding God’s Peace in Your Chaotic World
The faint-hearted will lose, let him do the best he can.
"The proverbs of Wales: a collection of Welsh proverbs, with English Translations"
Much of your pain is self-chosen. It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self. Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquility; for his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen, and the cup he brings, though it burn your lips has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter has moistened with His own sacred tears.
Kahlil Gibran
http://www.joyofquotes.com/grief_quotes.html
foto – raleigh paddocks 2010
Digging potatoes is always an adventure, somewhat akin to fishing. There is forever the possibility that the next cast – or the next thrust of the digging fork – will turn up a clunker. Jerome Belanger
CATHY SONG
Like the cockroach, the displaced
have crawled through the cracks
and selected for themselves
an agreeable niche.
A place to start from scratch.
They thrive in the vegetable air.
You wonder how you’ll survive,
unfit, unable to work.
Lacking the predatory skills,
you’ve stayed in the trees,
a dreamer, all your life,
even now wanting to believe
a change of scenery
will get you back on your feet.
A brief hiatus in the vegetable air.
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/archive/poem.html?id=172140
foto – vegie garden in bilambil december 2008
THE OLD PROVERBIAL RECOVERY 