Thursday, May 27, 2021


I did it. I posted a video on YouTube. I thought maybe a no-frill video talking about The Law of Attraction could be of interest. Jewells HappyTrails#1

And there is nothing like a green forested trail to refresh the spirit, and make you believe anything is possible.

In 2006 Rhonda Byrne published a movie titled The Secret to a rousing 19 million viewers, and $300 million in gross sales. That tells me people want to know how to use the power of the mind to bring about their desires. And they want transformative experiences. I wonder how all those people are doing. You don’t hear much about The Secret anymore.

I wish I had a different name for #The Law of Attraction, but then, people wouldn’t know what I am talking about.

I believe that the transformative journey is like art, to become good at it, you practice every day.

What better way than on a forest trail?

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Tuesday, May 25, 2021


Jewell's Happy Trails

Holy cow, I don't know why I am doing this. I click into YouTube, and what pops up? All those professional speakers. People more knowledgeable than me, more experienced, more, more. So why would anyone listen to my babble? That is a phenomenon every artist must face—putting their work out there, knowing it doesn't match the standards set by people who have practiced for 20 + years.

However, we all have a voice and a gift, and perhaps my saying whatever I have to say will spark something in someone.

 If we wait until we are perfect (ha), we will never do it. And so we begin.


I have two forest walks filmed so far where I talk about this mystery we call life. My focus is called The Law of Attraction, although I wish I had another name for it. Guess I feel the title is cliché; however, here's my take on it.


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And then here is the blog post I wrote for this week.


Blog May 25 21 Pet Your Reptile


In this age, we speak of enlightenment—whatever in the heck that means…


Maybe it means we have come to understand that we were born a perfect human and live the life of a human. The cliché is that we are spiritual beings having a human experience. It might be cliché, but I agree with the statement. We learn along the way, and maybe enlightenment is living in peace and fulfillment. It probably comes after we have walked the pot-holed road filled with boulders.


All along, we are fighting our evolution.


My sister used to get agitated when I used the word evolution, for she thought it negated creationism.


I'm not going there. Evolution simply means change over time—big deal. Things change, and we have built into us certain behaviors that were undoubtedly a result of evolution, aka, what worked at the time, aka, driven by natural selection.


Fast forward. We still have behaviors built into us that do not work to our benefit. Sorry. Millions of years built us.


For example:


Fear. It benefited us to run or fight in the face of danger. However, now it is thrown at us regularly. It sells. (An adrenalin rush.)


The hunter phenomenon. It was necessary to feed the tribe. Killing for sport or war is counterproductive. (But it is another adrenalin rush.)


Some native hunters revered the land and the animals. Sorry, we must kill to eat, but that's the way this earth is set up. (Vegetarians, charge ahead. The cow doesn't kill the grass; she mows it. Most fruits and vegetables would rot if we didn't eat them. (My refrigerator attests to that.)


Distain or fear of strangers or people who look different from us. Well, what can I say about that? Used to be you needed to fear marauders. They would come and take your wife, your children, your animals, and your land. Then there was the class system—money and title meant you were better than the common man. And then there were slaves. Not a pretty picture. 


Nationalism. Now we are World People. Used to be, we had to protect what was ours for the same reason we feared strangers. However, we still fight over land.


Judgment: I've heard more people fault themselves for judging than I can count. Of course, we size up people to determine if they are a friend or foe. It's natural. We pick and choose who we want to hang out with or who we want to marry. Where this goes wrong is when the ego gets involved. Wanting to be better than those others we are judging. We are taught competition, not cooperation. (I've heard that Navaho children gave teachers a hard time because they wanted to help each other on exams. They couldn't understand why they had to keep their eyes on their own paper.)


Belief systems. Probably beliefs give us comfort. It provides us with some understanding of the way the world works—even if it's faulty. It allows us to find others who agree, thus giving us bonding and friends.


When we look back, we realize we carry baggage from our past, genes, nurturing, propaganda, etc. Yes, we want to look ahead, but not to forget what made us. And we want to take with us lessons learned. We developed a big thinking brain, a brain over a brain over a brain. That reptilian brain is at the base of your spine, is hungry, scared, angry, and horny. The midbrain is responsible for memory, temperature, heart rate, swallowing, sneezing, among many other things. Then we wrapped it up in a pretty package, the Cerebral cortex, the place where miracles happen.


We carry quite a package.


"Why did the chicken cross the road?"

"Because his reptilian brain told him to."


The Reptile Brain also is where repeating patterns such as rituals, automatic responses without conscious thought, predictability, fear of the unknown, fear of losing a job, spouse, home, dying, lack of money, and lack of resources. All are anxiety and trauma responses. It is where racism arises. 


"The lizard brain is the reason you're afraid, the reason you don't do all the art you can, the reason you don't ship when you can. The lizard brain is the source of resistance."—Seth Godin.


 In The Dragons of Eden, Speculations on the Evolution of Human Intelligence, Carl Sagan wrote:


 "Despite occasional welcome exceptions, this seems to me to characterize a great deal of modern human bureaucratic and political behavior."


The way to deal with the Reptilian brain is to realize when it has taken over.


Reptilian brains often label people as crazy or unstable who willingly take a leap of faith and go for it, like quitting their job and moving to another country.


These people acted despite their reptilian brain – allowing them to experience life as it was meant to be, free and boundless.


Eckart Tolle has a trick to calm the reptilian brain:


Sit quietly, hands in lap, and think of your hands. Notice you know they are there without looking. Focus on them, and soon you will feel them tingle. You will feel energy in them. After that, you can move to other parts of your body. And you can use this at night when you want to go to sleep.


You are giving your reptilian brain a pause. 


After writing this post, I understood my reason for doing the forested trail walks and talks.


Let’s say you are an artist, and I believe everybody is. To perfect your craft, you practice. You show up every day.


I view this travel through life the same way. You show up every day—consciously. You find things that uplift. You look for the good. You find ways to still your mind chatter; you pull yourself back into alignment when you stray off the path.


I would love to have you join me on Jewell's Happy Trails. The second video will be up before long. It's better. (Try not to listen to my hugging and puffing in this first one.) 


You readers are special to me.


Love, Jewell, aka Jo, aka Joyce


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Saturday, May 22, 2021

A beauty from the trail.

I awakened this morning—a stupid statement. Otherwise, I’d still be sleeping. Oh, I didn’t want to get up, but something, like my bladder, compelled me. And I felt sorry for Blackie, our adult hen who was penned with the young chicks, so I walked on wet grass to release her from the little house. It was a game like keeping one plate spinning while seeing the other begin to fall, for the young chicks wanted out, and Blackie wanted out, and neither wanted to be with the other.


Well, now I’m awake. Blackie is out. My feet are cold and wet. Okay, let’s get to work. I’m not fixing breakfast, although I’m starving, so I take Sweetpea and we go out in the truck for coffee and a scone. (She likes the truck better than the car, for I have a blanket over the console, and she can sit beside me.) Not the best breakfast, I know, but desperate times require desperate measures.


While drinking my coffee with the heater jacked up to womb temperature, I listened to Marie Forleo interview Seth Godin, the premier blogger who blogs every day. He says he would blog whether anyone reads it or not. When you are forced to have something to say every day, you observe. You leave a trail of your thoughts.


You might be thinking, maybe your thoughts stink, but they are your thoughts, your observations, and you showed up.


All that was to tell you I showed up here today.


Seth also said that to search for our “Calling” is nonsense. This was precisely my point in writing Where Tigers Belch. In it, my young protagonist sets out on the jungle trail to find her destiny, her calling, and she figured where the tiger belches would be her spot.


Well, I think it is more like this: You create your calling as you go along. The Universe, the Great Spirit, whatever you want to call the Divine, is there to get with Your Program.


Some might take offense at that statement, thinking they should follow “God’s Will.” But consider this, what if “God’s Will” is your will. He, she, it didn’t put us here to be puppets. The Patriarchal God wants obedience. The Mother wants her children to find their own calling. Yep, sometimes you land on Park Place where your opponent has three hotels, and you go bankrupt paying the rent, but it’s only a game (Monopoly). You can play again tomorrow or in a second.


I revamped, edited, changed Where Tigers Belch a smidge and will publish it as a novella. Amazon sent a notice of a contest, and I decided to enter, although some say the chances of winning are slim when it isn’t a full-length book. (Where Tigers Belch is between 8,000 and 9,000 words, 49 pages. The requirement for the contest is over 25 pages)


I wrote Where Tigers Belch over 12 months, one episode (chapter) a month. I had two subscribers who I love dearly, and knowing they had subscribed forced me to meet my appointed deadline every month. I thank Marilyn and Meredith profusely. I didn’t know where this story was leading, so it was an adventure for me. I’m happy with the outcome and that they didn’t leave me alone stumbling through the jungle. I’m sending a Chirp book (notebook where they can write their own story) to both readers for subscribing to that newsletter at $12.99 for a book that will be for sale on Amazon for $2.99. (If I can ever get my Tiger picture at a resolution high enough for a cover.)


I’m playing hot/cold with life. Suppose I have a desire or a thought to produce something. In that case, generally, I do it—not everything, but ideas pertaining to my work. I took two forest walks for YouTube that might embarrass me, but what the heck, it’s me. Justin Perry said it was a good idea. I agreed.


How have you been feeling?


Have you felt a little off-kilter? I have. wonder how much the past year has worn us down. I’ve heard that mental problems are up, and it’s no wonder with people stressed out, worrying, and fearful. It’s enough to trouble the most stalwart heart.


If I could put salve on the hurt, I would. You know, while we’re on the trail creating our life’s work, doing the job we love, finding the relationships we want, we also want to contribute to the good and to offer a helping hand to those who stumble.


“Was it you or I who stumbled first? It does not matter. The one of us who finds the strength to get up first must help the other.”

 ― Vera Nazarian 


Oh yes, it’s been an exciting week in Junction City. A house across the street burnt to the ground. Scary stuff. It was under construction, a house behind a house, and right over the back fence from our friend’s house directly across the street.


Daughter dear was walking her dog at 1:30 in the morning and noticed a glow, thinking someone was burning. By the time she turned around, it had become a full-fledged blazing fire. We ran, waking people. One, an elderly woman, had to be wheeled out in a wheelchair. Her daughter said she hated that house. It had dormer windows that faced directly into their back yard. House gone. 


Saturday, May 15, 2021

Find Something Fun

I used to tease my friend Betty for saying that chickens were her favorite animal. 

I've heard of chicken on the Barbie, but this is ridiculous.

Now I understand where she was coming from.

I’m not saying chickens are my favorites. I’m not choosing. You know I have been crazy over a horse, a dog, I have loved our cats, and goats are more fun than a barrel of monkeys—most people wouldn’t know this without experiencing one or two.

Who wouldn't love that face?

I don’t know why I am talking about this. A blog is meant to inform. 

I inform you here in this lock-down depressing times, when people are plain worn-out with worry, receiving conflicting data, knowing there is an information war, and that our minds and bodies are being dinked with...

Find something you enjoy. 

I’ve recently taken a couple of trail walks, recording both the trail and my voice, and I enjoyed both. Can you believe it? I talk about the Law of Attraction and whatever else pops into my head. 

Why would I be so arrogant as to do such a thing? 

I’m not a big talker. Neither am I a big walker these days. Sorry. Justin Perry suggested I do a YouTube. If you get 1,000 “likes,” you can monetarize it, meaning have ads, but still be free for the watcher/listener. ( My internal knowingness said, “Jump in. See what happens. Be brave.”

People are interested in The Law of Attraction. I can say a few things about it, not to teach or to give any processes you ought to do, goals you ought to set, or meditations you ought to do. No ought's. Just plain talk. At least you can get a green forested trail walk out of it. And I was yearning for the trees. 

This videoing and putting the recording into the computer has been a learning curve for me. And I used to download pictures with ease. But not on my new computer., It kept locking me out until daughter dear turned off the S mode. Apparently, Microsoft wanted me to use only their software. I think I can get it now. This YouTube will be the unabridged version of walking and talking and hearing my breathing. Jewells Happy Trails #1. (No link yet.)

The first walk had no audio, so I redid it. No wonder I was puffing. I got lost on the mountain after the second walk as I was returning home. The road was clear going away from town, but coming back, there were logging roads, Y’s in the road, I didn’t see on the way down. I took the wrong Y and scraped the sides of my truck on blackberry bushes. 

Oh, back to chickens. They have given me a reprieve from the depression we had over losing my daughter’s lady. 

I bought three baby chicks on March 19, then three days old. They lived in a box under a heat lamp in the laundry room until recently when I moved the box outside. Next came a little movable yard on our green lawn. A freed animal is such fun; they run (It’s only a 4 x 4 sq. foot enclosure) and could fly over the three-foot-high fence if I didn’t cover it. Now part of their diet is mowing the lawn. 

Husband Dear and I had spent a week off and on flipping a tiny chicken house that I bought when we lived at an earlier home. Amazing that it survived the weather, and only the roof was rotted. My son-in-law and grandson carried it from where it had been stored including lifting it over the fence as it couldn't get through the gate, I freshly stained the sides, and repainted the trim. Home Depot cut the roof plywood for me, and I found asphalt shingles at Habitat for Humanity. Husband dear screwed the plywood in place and we shingled the roof.  It’s cute enough to live in the backyard. 

This property already had a chicken house and a coop attached to the backside of the Wayback (Our auxiliary building.) We had a secure (we thought) dog kennel attached to the coop for the two chickens who survived an earlier massacre. Sadly, about four nights ago, something got Red, one of the two hens. She must have been lying next to the fence, and something (a raccoon ??) killed her right through the fence.

Well, Blackie became free-range. The neat thing is, this somewhat standoffish street-smart chicken (she adopted us) has come into our back yard, visits the young chickens through their fence, lets me pet her, and has become the elegant lady she was meant to be. 

The picture above is of Blackie.

Although we had the house in our workspace for replacing the roof, Blackie climbed inside and laid two eggs. She is a resourceful chicken. Now I see why Betty was so attached to chickens. 

Here’s a quick change of subject:

Want a FREE blank book?

It won’t be completely blank. It has lined pages and quotes scattered throughout like seeds.

The quotes are not meant to stop your creative flow, but to give you a moment to pause and reflect or argue with, I don’t care.  

I like little booklets for my computer data, for I change passwords more often than Katy Perry changes clothes. The booklets with pretty covers are more fun than the simple spiral notebooks where I put junk stuff. 

Of course, you can write the great American novel there on those pages if you want.

I ordered two booklets about a week ago, for I wanted to know how they looked and make sure every page was lined. They have a matt finish cover. Glossy might be better. 

Here is a bird with an attitude.

Quote on the back cover:

"Once upon a time,

when women were birds,

there was the simple understanding

that to sing at dawn, and to sing at dusk

was to heal the world through joy.

The birds still remember what we have forgotten,

that the world is meant to be celebrated."

--Terry Tempest William

One person can have my extra booklet if they are willing to give me their email address and/or name and physical address so I can UPSP the book. If you win, I will need it for mailing.  

The young chicks will choose the winner. The first address pecked will be it.

The Judges

This is Saturday. I will do the drawing next Saturday, May 22, 2021

Wednesday, May 12, 2021

A National Treasure

There is a photograph of a tree hanging in an elder’s apartment. To the casual observer, it is just an ordinary tree.


For the photographer, it is extraordinary. 


Long ago, this woman, the photographer, was a child in Germany as the Second World War broke out. The British government organized a rescue effort to save Jewish children under 17, waving visa requirements and placing them in a safe country in foster homes, farms, and orphanages. (1938-1940) Often these children were the only members of their families to survive. This was the Kindertransport.


This elder, the photographer of the tree, was around 8 years old when she was taken away from her family and moved to England. Outside the orphanage where she was placed grew a tree.


When she was grown, she revisited that orphanage and wondered if the tree was still there.


It was, and that is the photograph of the tree hanging in her apartment.


My daughter feared that when they were clearing out her effects, that inconsequential little photograph would be swept aside. Maybe it would be thrown away. It was old and not very alluring. And so, she wrote a note explaining its origin and pasted it to the frame. 


I don’t know what will happen to the photo. It was special to the lady, as many of our memories are unique to us and no one else. 


On Mother’s Day, May 9, this lady passed away. 


I have been angry, disheartened, and livid over the treatment of this woman—a National Treasure who survived the holocaust only to be killed in a “Retirement Community” where someone decides one’s fate.


This is a lesson to us that if we don’t take control of our own lives, someone else will.


This lady was a people-pleaser and took “authorities’ advice,” no wonder given her rearing.  It had helped her survive until now. 


I don’t know whether I will post this or not. I have gotten feedback on how righteous and wonderful Hospice is. Given the proper conditions, it can be, but it can also be misused.


I am writing this for I carry a deep sadness. I was under confidentiality, and many times in my brain, I wrote a letter. I wanted to tell her Rabbi. I will launch a complaint, although it’s a little late now. 


I wondered how much was a part of the lady’s life passage. I wondered how much she had set this up for herself. Could it be that she was guilty of having escaped the gas chambers? I don’t know. Those thoughts rattle in my brain. 


How much was my responsibility?


I just know that this rational mathematician went from lucid, laughing at puzzles, liking to see repetitive patterns in carpeting and plants outside to an invalid within the course of a week. She was a lady who enjoyed going to the roof and watching the sunset. During her school days, she was the star mathematician, and when she graduated at 16, they hired her to teach mathematics. In later life she had a theorem named after her. She was engaged to a doctor once, but when she talked about what she was doing, he seemed uninterested. “I can’t marry someone who shows no interest in my work,” she said.


I wonder if she was denied one of life’s spiritual moments. And that was to die under one’s own choices.


The caretaker who was with the woman 12 hours a day, four days a week for the past year pretty much knew her ups and downs.  The lady had some short-term memory loss, but in a moment of clarity she told her helper “I would rather have pain that be whacked out of my mind.”   However, she was whacked out of her mind.


Later on, she would forget she had any pain. Thus, the nurse’s assistant (not even a nurse) determined she could not decide for herself, and recommended Hospice. That way, they would have access to pain management. The patient, our photographer, had a Power of Attorney to decide for her. An in-house doctor, not her primary care physician, signed her to Hospice. The only family she had were nieces who lived in England. (They were from an older sister who was also on the Kindertransport, but who, in later life, killed herself.) The nieces loved their Aunt, but didn’t really understand what was going on.

The nurses said they had a meeting where they explained to the lady what was happening, but she did not understand. They asked her questions such as “Where do you plan to spend the rest of your life?” Well, she owned her condo. Why would they be asking such a personal question? She never consented or understood what was happening. 


“What happened to my bed,” she asked when they moved in a hospital bed. “My toilet is broken, and I can’t use it,” she said. No, a nurse taped a sign over it, “Broken,” so she would use the commode. Why? I ask. 


They limited her fluids because “It is better to die dry than wet.” Well, I consider not drinking to be torture.


She had a bladder infection that they would not treat because she was on Hospice, and they do no curative actions. So, they used morphine to numb the pain. She had a rash from sitting so long, and they treated it with powder, not an antibiotic that might have cured both the rash and the infection. 


Two cardinal rules were broken in this case. The first rule is that the patient be diagnosed with a terminal illness. The lady had MS, which is not a terminal. She had it for 30 years and had leg twitches and itches but was ambulatory.  The doctor said his wife died of MS. (With MS, doctor, not of MS.)


This lady stated emphatically that she was not dying and did not want to. 


The second rule is that the patient is given six-months to live. She was not.


Instead, she was given Morphine, Ativan, Methadone and Haldol (an antipsychotic drug used in hospitals to bring down a violent patient.)



“Concomitant use of benzodiazepines and opioids may result in profound sedation, respiratory depression, coma, and death.” 

She was not psychotic, but apparently, they give Ativan and Haldol as a matter of course with morphine. I don’t know what else she was given, whatever she was taking for her MS.


Throw all that in a system, and it could turn a person psychotic, or kill them.


When the lady was delusional, the caretaker said she was over medicated, and she had seen that before when she came home from the hospital after recovering from a fall, but that time she regained her brain.


A Power of Attorney held out for a while until the “Doctor” convinced her that Hospice was the best procedure.


And what happened to the caretaker? She was mentored that she was not handling her patient's decline well.

Wednesday, May 5, 2021

When Did We Become Weird?

Many people have taken on religious fervor, the very thing we have championed against in earlier years. 

We have global warming where we can divide ourselves and beat each other with our viewpoints. Some say, “Pollution has done it.” Others say, “It’s the natural earth cycle.” Oh yes, there is another: it doesn’t exist.

 We have vaccinations where one side says it will save us from this blasted pandemic. We have another side that thinks the vaccination will turn us into zombies, implant devices into our bodies to be controlled by whoever has their finger on the button.

 We seek out material, especially on the Internet (Well, that’s where we can find it), that supports our point of view. In the process, we become enmeshed into a rock-solid belief system.

How far can we go down that rabbit hole?

 If we watch the news on TV, we will be swayed by rhetoric that deliberately slants toward the horrific, the fear, and the desire to keep us watching--thus ratings. (Do you see any bias here?)

 We know some of these things like fear sells, that’s common knowledge, but still, we can get pulled in. I don’t know why that is so; it’s something about our makeup. We hate that car wreaks happens, but we can’t help but look if there is one.

 We’re drawn to the drama, the excitement, the adrenalin rush. I guess we need it. Our lives are too enmeshed in the minutiae of life. (I suppose there was more value in the hunt than bring home the bacon. Perhaps the thrill of the hunt kept the hunters hunting and the village fed.)

If we continue to be stimulus/response individuals, we will be programmed.

 We need to get back some healthy debate, to consider that maybe, just maybe, we are driving our own evolution, and we have a choice as to where it is going. 

 Perhaps the “truth” lies somewhere in the middle.

 Maybe you do have a point that the earth is naturally warming.

 Maybe we are driving it faster with pollution, emissions, hair sprays, aerosols, and etc. 

 It scares me when I see a picture of the earth from space, and it shows how thin our atmosphere is. Heavens, we can’t climb the highest mountain on earth without carrying oxygen with us or heaving and puffing, with little energy to climb to the top. I remember being a kid where our family would drive up toward Mt Hood in Oregon for a picnic. I would get out of the car and wondered what was happening to me that I could hardly climb the embankment. After I acclimated, I was okay. Doesn’t that tell us something? Like maybe we should all work together to ensure that thin film stays surrounding us. (Like not exploding bombs in it.) and we ought to make sure those life-giving elements continue at a ratio beneficial to all life.

 Would you prefer to look at a desolate planet like Mars and consider a colony there when we can play on this gorgeous planet?

 If we pollute the oceans, we’re goners. 

 If we don’t look at the coral reefs and realize they are telling us something, we are stupid. There is a phenomenon in corals caused by the warming ocean and the pollutants, where the coral blanches white. If it stays white, it will die. However, in its desire to survive, corals can produce a sort of sunscreen to help them recover. It will recolor. But given enough stress, that will fail.

 Not interested in coral reefs? Not into scuba diving? The purpose of corals to not to provide us with beautiful photographs but to support life. 1,500 species of fish live within the coral reefs. 

 They are called “Barrier reefs” because they form a barrier to protect the live-forms that live within the reef and are protected by it. Reefs stabilize the ocean floor so grasses can grow. Those grasses feed large creatures like manatees who nurture their babies within the protection of the reefs. 

 Over 500 million people depend upon the reefs for their food. Not only is food sustained there, but medicines have been made from the coral to treat heart problems and for human bone transplants. 

 You know about the food chain. And we ought to know about the ocean. For example, plankton provides 50-80% of our oxygen. One photosynthesizing bacteria within the plankton, Prochlorococcus, produces a whopping 20% of the earth’s oxygen. 

 While we are speaking holistically, dust from the Sierra dessert blows across the African continent, is dropped into the ocean, and fertilizes the plankton that grows there. 

 I notice, this year, that while the flowers are abundant, they came, flourished beautifully, but are gone within a day or two. I’m not sure the apple tree kept its blossoms long enough to be pollinated. No flowers, no bees, no apples. It could be that we have drought conditions, and they know it. And strange that one of the first things affected by change is the reproductive cycle. If we don’t have enough food or water, we don’t have babies or fruit or vegetables.

If a polar bear doesn’t have enough food to grow her young, she holds a fertilized egg in her body until such a time that conditions are right. Better to not have children that to have them starve.

 In our lack of having a holistic approach, we forget that one thing affects another. Even doctors will treat that one booboo without thought of how it is affecting the entire organism. (Some insurance companies will forbid the doctor from addressing more than one issue.) Now, I ask you, is that good doctoring?

 There is pollen in the air,” you say, “It gives me sniffles and itchy eyes. Take an allergy pill, and get with the program. (See, technology can help us be more comfortable. It can cure diseases and thus make our lives more enjoyable. Maybe that’s why God gave us a big brain. It’s up to us the help make life easier for its inhabitants. And don’t get after me for using evolution and God—I believe in both.) You know the grasses need pollen. You like grass-fed beef, don’t you? You like corn and grain, and pasta, and muffins. You like fruit and many other foodstuffs that require pollination. 

 I’m an earth child, as you can see. I want to see it thrive. I’m not waiting for aliens to come and save us or to find another planet to colonize. (Living on Mars would drive me crazy.) We need to focus on our own home. Oh yes, the earth can outlast us—it’s gone through a molten stage and evolved into the beauty we now enjoy, but we don’t want to go back to barren moltenness. (I make up words too.) 

 What about walking around, breathing clean air, drinking pure water, laughing with our neighbors no matter where they came from, what color their skin is, or how rich or poor they are? 

 We are primates—sorry, all the creationists that will be offended by this, it is no insult. I’m honored to be an animal. They have a loving side like us, but they can fight and kill--like us.

 We are getting smarter now. We know some of these things, and we can dialogue with each other too. And why in the world, when we lighten the pandemic controls, crazies go out and shoot somebody? We’re not taking care of the crazies either—but then that’s another story.

 It used to be the printed word was the way people attained knowledge. They found the news of the world in the printed word. And perhaps you stopped reading after the first paragraph—that’s common in books—but then maybe they are boring. 

 Now, most information is presented visually. (Maybe I need to get with the program—maybe I’m old-fashioned.) I know that we are frenzied, angry, upset, nervous, and taking tranquilizers—well, Jo, you have a glass of wine in the evenings. Yep, I do. 

 I also know that reading is a quiet venture. It gives us a moment to pause. You can rail back at the printed word, throw the book, disagree or cry over the wonder of it. However, it gives us time to do that. Have you ever laid your book on your chest and looked out the window and thought of not much, simple things. You look to the horizon and give your eyes a rest. You come back to the book to feel a warm glow encircle you.

 When we try to keep up with a talking face, we are deprived of that moment. Another frenzy to add to our discontent.

 I know I laid out a lot here, and I thought I had nothing to say.

 Probably I have not said things you do not know already. If you’re anything like me, though, a reminder once in a while works wonders. I’m taking a course where I know most of the information, but it can get me fired-up.

 Do I meditate when I know it is good for me? Not much. Do I stay positive when I know that is the best way to live? Ha.

 I want the earth cared for, such as the seventh generation the Native American’s spoke of. We thought they were ignorant savages. Ha.,

 I want happiness for the people. I want them to see that we are little energy packets walking around affecting their surroundings and each other, and that snowballs to all of us. I’ve heard that we are all together in this, but many times people won’t even give you the time of day. Of course, I don’t meet those people.

 Our attitudes, thoughts, actions have some effect on our electrical/magnetic field. We are in touch with the Great Force that surrounds us, sustains us, and is affected by our wishes. Don’t believe me? Give it a try.

 I heard a wonderful story last week. There is an elderly man working at one of the Retirement communities who escaped Germany during WWII. He told the story of 300 Jewish people who escaped a concentration camp. They overpowered the guards, confiscated their weapons, and left. Not all the prisoners left, they were afraid. And they were all killed.

 This is true story that was hushed up by the ones who wanted to maintain control. My daughter verified in on the Internet.

 Be courageous.


 Here is my week in pictures. I am grateful to see all of them.

This old pink dogwood, in our backyard was chopped back to a stump and basic limbs when we moved here. I didn't know what sort of tree it was. Now, look at it. 
Apple blossoms
Duckies at the Farm Store

One coon hound who knows how to get his inspiration..

Lilacs in back yard

Crains in Coburg, Or.

I tried to show the humungous moon we had about a week ago.

How did you read this? On the side of a Pub in Springfield, OR

Live long and prosper,

P.S. What in the heck is "Low Fat Half and Half?" The store caught my husband trying to buy good old high fat half and half. Daughter inadvertently opened in. I can't take it back. Yuck.