William Timberman.

My best friend fell asleep while we were reading 'The Mountains of Tibet' by Mordicai Gerstein.

It's full of colored paintings. In a tiny village high in the mountains of Tibet, lives a woodcutter. He's been around to many places without leaving the village. He travel faraway in his mind.

When he dies, he is suddenly offered the chance to live another life, in any form he pleases, anywhere in the galaxies. He's always one to look at all the varied possibilities.

When he died.

He found himself in a place that was very dark and very bright He listened within...

..."You now have a choice. You become part of the endless universe some have called a place called 'heaven' or you may live another life." The woodcutter thought.

"I want to live another life." on and on~ "The one I just lived has faded from my mind like a dream." on and on~ "All I can remember is that I wanted to see more of the world."

~"Look around you." on and on~ gently 'spoke' his inner voice.

P.S. The inspiration came from reading the Tibetan Book of The Dead.

~The illustrations for children are worth a gander. It's been a long day.

You make me smile. Let the trolls learn to love ya's, ya's old tough gizzard.

This silly lyric keeps pounding like a sooth of a sore leg and a toothache...

If it rains it pours. It's gonna rain. Don't get wet. It's raining, it's pouring, a old man is snoring.

He rolled out of bed and bumped his head, and didn't ever wake up again (morbid). Or he did wake up again in the morning. That's much better.

~

Row, row ,row the boat gently down the stream,

merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is quite a dream.

from a government horse's mouth... the 'stuff' gets scarfed up... and then can be put back on the streets a dozen more times$

They eat the hash. Sell it many times?

It really is a joke. The 'stash'

ain't ever incinerated. Ask DIA?

Go talk to the Columbian cartels.

I'm just a horse farrier horse shoe.

My body is full of microbe bacteria. What can I drink ti kill the nasty varmints causing me misery?

Can wine kill them? Extra Stout Guinnness from St. James's Gate, Dublin....or just drink more olive oil.

BWI-

I got a good reputation but I am beginning to believe some here need to be charged with BWI"s?

Blogging While so Intoxicated.

You can't fix a tripping drunk?

You can ruin a reputation with one rude post.

I'm watching a Barbie DVD musical. Don't judge. It's not bad. bamage, or rather it's pretty Barbie who talks with animals and sings. It's about 'The Island Princess' featuring nine fantastic songs. Questions? What to wear to show tour flare at the ball? A coconut and a smile! bamage, that's what it takes is the countenance. That is the beauty. The DVD teaches.

It's about a shipwreck (Rosella Barbie) who gets to know red Panda Sagi, a peacock Azul, and the baby elephant Tika. Princess Antonio begins to love the tropical paradise more than the rich castle. He explores a different civilization? The evil plot is happening among the then GOP's neocon...as it was there? There was a spreading sickness...

The theme is when love guides you, miracles and joy may be nearer than you know.

~

OT? In the mail also today: A brochure:

This quote: by Pierre Teilhard de hardin.

~Above all, trust in the slow work of the Spirit. We are quite naturally impatient in everything to reach the end without delay. We should like to skip the intermediate stages. We are impatient of being on the way to something unknown, something new. And yet it is the law of progress that is made by passing through some stages of instability---

and that it may take a ...long time.

I took that from 'The Ridgeleaf' @ WWW.KIRKRIDGE.ORG

I noticed a few names I respect. Daniel Ellsburg/Experiments-Truth and Conscience.

Frida Berrigan ~ Tools for the long haul: Stories, Community, and Laughter.

Freida is the daughter of Phillip Berrigan and daughter of Elizabeth McAlister, founder of Jonah House in Baltimore.

P.S. It's a small world? I was at a piano recital in Catonsville, Maryland yesterday.

Phillip Berrigan was one of my first contacts I needed to visit in the early 70's to thank. Phil was drinking tea in Jonah House. We spoke. He looked anguished. I showed him my legs and spoke of war.

Poor Matilda Hodge was the local draft-board clerk when the Berrigan Brothers poured blood on the Catonsville draft records. I still remember her. Gads. I thank Phil.

Again: In his "death" memory, again.

His Spirit lives. I thank others like him.

I was gonna accuse YKO242 of staring long and not healthily at Barbie dolls when she was figured at 242 measurements? O, but that not nice.

I spell bad. T.

It was Chardin. Stay on topic. As each day passes ad the sun warms the earth, new days are arriving as surely as the crocuses that will peek through crust of snow. --Jean.

Chardin closes his poem with these words:

Give yourself the benefit of believing that the Spirit is leading you,

and accept the anxiety of feeling yourself in suspense and incomplete.

Your right. okay.

Yup. Your right.

Much oblige you.

okay. Good night.