D is for Death. Hooboy.

I found the above (pictured) plaque at Goodwill yesterday and it made me laugh out loud. I understand the heartfelt statement of faith and gratitude, but wow, if you are going to laminate your faith statement onto a plaque – maybe run it past a writer first?

This sounds as if the Son of God was doing okay until he encountered the Sins of You.

So anyways… D is for Death.

Oh yeah, this will be short and easy.

Central statement of this essay; death sucks.
But also; death brings weird clarity.

C is for Challenges that Count

The first time I went to Guatemala (on a MayaWorks tour, http://www.mayaworks.org/ ) the reality that most astounded me was the children. The kids were so bright-eyed and happy that they were nearly incandescent!

Why are kids in incredibly poor places often so incredibly happy; far happier it seems than our kids? Our kids too often look wary, or cloyingly precocious, or bored. I’m talking about our average American kids from reasonable families with no particular mental or physical challenges.

B is for Boston Tea Party

Dave took this photo last fall in North Dakota.

Today the Republican Congressional representatives of the Tea Party are front and center. Will they support the Trump(don’t)Care plan, or will they balk because it isn’t penny-pinching enough to suit their model of what government is supposed to do? (Nuthin’ but wars, apparently…)

Here’s my question. Since the “Boston Tea Party” is their motif of patriotism, what happened at that first and famous Boston Tea Party? Why did those early patriots have one?

A is for Access to Assets

An asset is anything that makes your life work stronger and better. Assets are good things to try to get.

I am not even close to wealthy yet when my eyes pop open in the middle of the night and the Wide-Eyed Bunny of Insomnia twitches its whiskers at me –I can move down the hall to the small bedroom where there is a single bed already made up and waiting for me. Then I switch my phone to free Pandora comedians who mumble just exactly the way I require to divert my attention - and I fall back asleep.


A week ago I gave up on kidding myself that an ingrown toenail is a joke. Went to a podiatrist and had the horrible surgery. (They numb you up and it doesn’t really hurt; it’s just the thought that makes one want to faint in their tracks). And then I didn’t go back outside for a week. Not kidding. Some people go back to work. Me? Not so much. I stayed home and wrote and read and moved photos around on the YouTube I talked about yesterday. (29 people have watched so far….)

We're on YouTube!

Apparently Noah was 480-years old when God told him to build an ark -- and about 600 when the floods finally came. A 120 year DIY project? Whoa… That 3-month kitchen remodel in our first house almost did me in.

And then there’s this, of which Len just reminded me.
The Titanic was built by professionals-- but the ark was built by an amateur.

Why am I making DIY jokes? Because I have spent way-too-many hours creating a PowerPoint about our trip to Arizona - and then Len spent a remarkable amount of time figuring out how to put it on YouTube.

Making Breakfast

I have written seven letters to various elected officials in the past three days. I need a vision in my head of people who live their lives with integrity. Do you?
I wrote the following in 2006 after I had spent three days in the altiplano (highlands) of Guatemala with the family of one of the MayaWorks weavers.
Please, when you are done reading this, go to MayaWorks.org and order something, if you can.

This is how Doña V, and a million other Maya women, make breakfast for their families every morning.


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