Listen to This :)

This is a call to a radio station in TX. I see why Jesus teaches us to be like the little children

Ready To Blog Again

Well I am ready to Blog again though my heart is still in mourning. Korban turned five on June 8th. I can not believe how time passes so quickly. I have a theroy using Enstines theroy of relativity and traveling at the speed of light and how time sppeds up etc on that but I will save that for another time I suppose. Back to Korbey!
He had a very happy birthday and racked in the cash! I was surprised how much money a five year old can get these days! He got 87.00 dollars!!! I don't get any where near that for my birthday! I haven't gotten that much in my last three bithdays combined! Holy heck! He is much loved! Plus he got about a million gifts in additon to the cash! Youth is truely wasted on the young! I let him spend 12.oo dollars at the dollar store and used the rest to buy him a few "pricy" gifts as instructed by the money senders. The money spent at the dollar store made Korban happier then Disneyland! He is all ready starting to see the "happiness" money can buy. He hasn't figured out that it isn't the kind that lasts, but one day he will.
Still waiting for our visas. I sometimes think we will never make it to Australia. And PS, they don't celebrate American holidays (who knew, doesn't EVERYONE want to be American?!?!) only Australian ones so I get confused! For instance when it was around Korban's birthday it was the queen's birthday and a public holiday there. The queen is SOOOOOOOOO old! She's like 105! Okay more like 80 something! And then Father's Day is in September not June! And no Thanksgiving! I would take that holiday if I was another country just so I can eat lots of lovely decadent foods with no explination or social scorn!
It will be wierd not having fireworks in July. I doubt they teach American history in school there since we don't learn Australian history here so I am going to have to teach Korban about it. Like Adam Sandler said in one of his movies "Are you too good for your home!" Korban can't forget his place of origin! I won't let him! He may adopt an Australian accsent but I will let him and any future children know that half of them came from America and is proud of it! I don't know if it's huberous or just being proud of where I came from, but I love being American. Not until I am 59 will I have lived in AU longer then America, it could be 60 depending on when our visa is granted if at all (sigh).
Last paragraph. Korban asks me all kinds of silly questions like "Do chickens hiccup", is that normal??? I swear I never asked questions like that! How would you even get to that question in your though process! And PS no one knows for sure! There is lots of believers both ways! Something about anatomy of a chicken seems to suggest they can't. Plus I am thinking how can you hiccup with a beak???? Now you can google it and wake-up at 3am going back and fourth on the opinions!

Yours, K.

My Fav Poem

Silence*

Edgar Lee Masters


I have known the silence of the stars and of the sea,
And the silence of the city when it pauses,
And the silence of a man and a maid,
And the silence of the sick
When their eyes roam about the room.
And I ask: For the depths
Of what use is language?
A beast of the field moans a few times
When death takes its young.
And we are voiceless in the presence of realities -
We cannot speak.


A curious boy asks an old soldier
Sitting in front of the grocery store,
"How did you lose your leg?"
And the old soldier is struck with silence,
Or his mind flies away
Because he cannot concentrate it on Gettysburg,
It comes back jocosely
And he says, "A bear bit it off."
And the boy wonders, while the old soldier
Dumbly, feebly lives over
The flashes of guns, the thunder of cannon,
The shrieks of the slain,
And himself lying on the ground,
And the hospital surgeons, the knives,
And the long days in bed.
But if he could describe it all
He would be an artist.
But if he were an artist there would be deeper wounds
Which he could not describe.

There is the silence of a great hatred,
And the silence of a great love,
And the silence of an embittered friendship.
There is the silence of a spiritual crisis,
Through which your soul, exquisitely tortured,
Comes with visions not to be uttered Into a realm of higher life.
There is the silence of defeat.
There is the silence of those unjustly punished
And the silence of the dying whose hand
Suddenly grips yours.
There is the silence between father and son,
When the father cannot explain his life,
Even though he be misunderstood for it.

There is the silence that comes between husband and wife.
There is the silence of those who have failed;
And the vast silence that covers
Broken nations and vanquished leaders.
There is the silence of Lincoln,
Thinking of the poverty of his youth.
And the silence of Napoleon
After Waterloo.
And the silence of Jeanne d'Arc
Saying amid the flames, "Blessed Jesus" -
Revealing in two words all sorrows, all hope.
And there is the silence of age,
Too full of wisdom for the tongue to utter it
In words intelligible to those who have not lived
The great range of life.

And there is the silence of the dead.
If we who are in life cannot speak
Of profound experiences,
Why do you marvel that the dead
Do not tell you of death?
Their silence shall be interpreted
As we approach them.

No Blog

Dear Blog readers there will be no blogs for a bit, I just recieved news of a dear friend loosing a baby and obviously don't feel up to it and hope to be helping my friend deal with this loss in whatever why I can instead of writing this blog. Despite sad news for me I wish all of you a wonderful weekend and a reminder to hold those you love just a bit longer . . .

Yours, K.

Song

Barcelona
Where the winds all blew
The churches don't have windows
But the graveyards do
Me and my shadow
Are wrestling again
Look out stranger
There's a dark cloud moving in

But if you could hear
The voice in my heart
It would tell you
I'm afraid I am alone

Wont somebody please
Hold me, release me
Show me the meaning of mercy
Let me loose
Fly, let me fly
Let me fly

Super paranoid
I'm blending, I'm blurring
I'm bleeding
Into the scenery
Loving someone else
Is so much easier
But I hold myself hostage
In the mirror

But if you could hear
The voice in my heart
It would tell you
I'm tired of feeling this way

God, wont you please
Hold me, release me
Show me the meaning of mercy
Let me loose
Let me fly
Let me fly
Let me fly

I wont be held down
I wont be held back
I will lead with my faith

The red light
Has been following me
But don't worry mother
Its no longer my gravity

Hold me, release me
Show me the meaning of mercy
Let me fly
Let me fly
Let me fly