“Happy Talk, Keep Talking Happy Talk”*

“Ask what makes you come alive and do that.

“Because that’s what the world needs,

"People who are alive.”

                     --From THE SHIFT Movie

Perhaps I ought to explain where I’m coming from.  You know how easy it is to say what’s wrong with the world and if you watch the news you will find plenty to chew on. Daughter Dear commented this morning that in the lunch room at work, the television is always on, and it is on the news. The channel isn’t stuck there, people can change it, but they don’t. They sit during lunch with no apparent reaction while the television feeds their mind as they are feeding their bodies.

Remember the motto of journalism: “If it bleeds, it leads.” What if we led with good news?

What a concept.

It is so tempting to rail against injustices, yet I have learned over the years that pushing against something causes that something to burrow in. Have you ever tried to push a cat that is firmly attached, claws sunk into the carpeting? It’s like that.

A friend sent me the link to the movie THE SHIFT. It is in process, not completed, and is advertised on Indiegogo, a site similar to Kickstarter where people pledge to help a project reach completion. I’m not promoting or soliciting, just giving the facts. But to think that we are living in an exciting age, where “No dream is too big, no challenge cannot be overcome.” This is not only an outrageous claim but a terribly exciting one.

The movement has already begun so state the interviewees in the movie…

If you want to take a look at the movie trailer go to http://tiny url.com/k7mcmzt

And remember, we are the ones to make a brighter day.

P.S. Memories re-visited

On the home front I am having such fun with my two hens. Daily I let them out of their cage and free in the back yard. Since they have not escaped and run amuck in the neighborhood, getting me into trouble, I feel I can trust them. They go into their nest during the day, lay their beautiful, wonderful, light green eggs, come running to me when I go out the back door—guess I’m momma—and put themselves to bed at night.

As a kid I grumbled about caring for the chickens, but then you know how kids can be, whatever they “have” to do they resist. Besides they weren’t pets and a bunch of chickens can be work. But now, with two chickens it feels reminiscent of times I turned my horses loose, and how much fun it was to watch them frolic around the house, run up the drive, leap off the retaining wall, and then to my chagrin, roll in the Oregon red mud.

P.S.P.S.

If you are interested in reading of our experience with the Coqui frogs of Hawaii check out my experimental site, “The Frog’s Song.”  (If you checked it before it might have been somewhat screwed up.) 
 http://i-m.mx/thefrogsong/thefrogssong

*Title from South Pacific's song "Happy Talk."

Happy Ever After

Chicken Soup for the Soul by Jack Canfield, who hasn’t heard of it? It’s a publishing phenomenon.

I often mention it to my kids saying, “See people like happy stories.” I love Jack Canfield, his attitude, his determination, his philosophy.  I have read his The Success Principles, but never the Chicken Soup books, and here I am touting them. A few years ago seeing his title on a bag of Horse Feed stopped me in my tracks. That man is all over the place.  Cat food, dog food, and now horse food. He must like animals—another thing to love about him.

Okay all this leads up to my Chiropractic visit yesterday. While in the waiting room I picked up Canfield’s book Chicken Soup for the Golden Soul (Stories about people 60 and over,) and quickly jotted down this from his book:

August 11, 1945

Nathan (in Germany)

“I’ve just heard the good news about the war honey. I’m so happy I could holler, shout, raise hell, cry, and do anything. If anyone tells me it’s a false alarm I will keel over and drop dead. Hopefully now the whole damned war is ‘kaput’ and this whole-sale slaughter can be brought to an end.”

August 15, 1945

Evelyn (in New York)

“The sirens are wailing. I can hardly steady my hand. I have a deep peaceful feeling and a million prayers of thanksgiving. I can’t remember what peace was like. Most of all it means our husbands, fathers, brothers, boyfriends and relatives are coming home. We can start our lives again. Pray there will be no more wars.”

From Five Dates, Hundreds of letters and 55 years later.

Happy ever after.

This isn't Nathan and Evelyn, but representative of the times.

We have all rejoiced with this couple.

I Wouldn't Call This Navigable

Imagine you live in Oregon. You have a stream running through your property, ah a nice stream, a small stream, perhaps, it dries up in the summer. No matter, if that stream was navigable in 1859 you do not own that stream, no dredging, building ponds, or altering in any way.

Hold on, I have reason for telling you this.

Navigable means by whatever mode of transportation they used in 1859, floating logs downstream—a common practice then, a canoe? It’s navigable. Perhaps it was used only seasonally. No matter. Perhaps now it is now a mud flat. No matter. You own only up to the high-water-mark.

I wonder if this was ever navigable.

In Oregon navigable water is owned and controlled by the state—same as it was for the original 13 states.

I learned this fascinating fact on my first day toward becoming a Real Estate Agent.

Yes, that’s the next order of things. Both daughter and I decided to go into this business together. Now whoever hires us will get two agents for the price of one. And we will work our butts off. 

Well, I have 150 hours of study ahead minus 39 minutes, 23 seconds, guess I better study.

I have to mention this, on my blog, The 90 day millionaire challenge, May 10, 2014, I suggested we follow Daughter Dear’s suggestion and write down one business plan a day for 30 days.

Here is what we both agreed upon—become a Real Estate Agent.

We have signed-up, committed ourselves.  Now I need to jam all that terminology into my head, and, then—horrors —a final exam.

P.S. If you have any interest in becoming a Real Estate Agent go to http://www.the90daymillionairechallenge.blogspot.com and click on the upper right corner. It will give you information, no signing up needed.

More to my liking

Definitely a navigable river. A sight I often saw as a child growing up alongside the Columbia River in Oregon

The Stuff Dreams are Made of

In 1938 it wasn’t Franklin Delano Roosevelt, Hitler or Mussolini that commanded the headlines. It was a little crooked legged horse named Seabiscuit.

Read Laura Hillenbrand’s skillful, exquisite  book  Seabicuit  for a an account of an underdog that inspired a nation.

A little horse with crooked legs who liked to sleep more than anything was used to train other race horses to win, by letting them. That is until a former cavalry horse trainer, and a crippled one-eyed jockey taught him that he was the winner.

In a match race against the proposed fastest horse in American and Triple Crown winner, War Admiral, Seabiscuit left him in the dust and gave the country something to think about except world conditions.

I’m back watching horse races after a few year hiatus, and rooting for the little guy.

I don’t know which inspired me the most, California Chrome or his 77 year old trainer. I first read that Art Sherman was 85, that inspired me, but checking, I guess he is only the kid of 77. I was figuring I had a few more years to come into my own—just lost 7 years. In 1955 he was an exercise jockey for the Kentucky Derby. This time he was a winner of it.

Okay, here is what inspired me:

California Chrome’s owners bought his mother, Love the Chase, for $8,000. Some told them that was too much for a horse that had won only one race. They bred her for $2,500, and she produced California Chrome. So for $10,500 they got a race horse that won millions.

The trainer Art Sherman said that it takes 11 days for a horse to recover from a race with the magnitude of the Kentucky Derby which he won.

Two weeks later he won the second leg in the race to the Triple Crown, The Preakness, and that was including his 11 day recovery and traveling over 2,000 miles from the west coast to Maryland on the East Coast.

I heard that the morning of the race he had a cough. I said, “Well, as with the stories of the great race horses, they had an injury or something that further handicapped them.” He won anyway.

I bet on him, won $80.00 and took my family to celebrate at the restaurant PF Changs.

To life,
Joyce

P.S. Feel like shouting? Go to the little wolf picture below, click, and give us a shout. The Sacred Wolf Pack is a place for creatives to meet and mingle. Ta Da.