<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13210283</id><updated>2011-04-21T21:21:57.938-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pondering Poetic</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>CBlair</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02045174801488033801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>25</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13210283.post-114183162426857561</id><published>2006-03-08T07:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-05-30T07:04:00.736-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Douglas Adams' Quotes of Note</title><content type='html'>A common mistake that people make when trying to design something completely foolproof is to underestimate the ingenuity of complete fools.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone who is capable of getting themselves made President should on no account be allowed to do the job. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flying is learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He felt that his whole life was some kind of dream and he sometimes wondered whose it was and whether they were enjoying it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I intended to be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it looks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, we have at least to consider the possibility that we have a small aquatic bird of the family anatidae on our hands. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If somebody thinks they're a hedgehog, presumably you just give 'em a mirror and a few pictures of hedgehogs and tell them to sort it out for themselves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a well-known fact that those people who must want to rule people are, ipso facto, those least suited to do it... anyone who is capable of getting themselves made President should on no account be allowed to do the job. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The knack of flying is learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a theory which states that if ever anyone discovers exactly what the Universe is for and why it is here, it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable.There is another theory which states that this has already happened.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13210283-114183162426857561?l=tarwennevle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/feeds/114183162426857561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13210283&amp;postID=114183162426857561' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/114183162426857561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/114183162426857561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/2006/03/douglas-adams-quotes-of-note.html' title='Douglas Adams&apos; Quotes of Note'/><author><name>CBlair</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02045174801488033801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13210283.post-114131396083869278</id><published>2006-03-02T07:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-09T11:43:38.580-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To Write Your Name</title><content type='html'>Ok, its terribly romantic but some things are what they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walking along these white sands&lt;br /&gt;Thinking about you and me&lt;br /&gt;Wondering what we are&lt;br /&gt;And what we will become&lt;br /&gt;I sit to watch waves come in &lt;br /&gt;and out&lt;br /&gt;My fingers caress the grains of sand&lt;br /&gt;Still, I can't decide on what we are&lt;br /&gt;Yet, I know that it feels right,&lt;br /&gt;To write your name.&lt;br /&gt;Cara Blair&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13210283-114131396083869278?l=tarwennevle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/feeds/114131396083869278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13210283&amp;postID=114131396083869278' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/114131396083869278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/114131396083869278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/2006/03/to-write-your-name.html' title='To Write Your Name'/><author><name>CBlair</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02045174801488033801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13210283.post-114123775980306651</id><published>2006-03-01T10:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-01T10:29:21.753-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tread</title><content type='html'>This is a poem I wrote about 5 years ago. Enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tread through these lands&lt;br /&gt;like they were mine to own&lt;br /&gt;Later on, I will wonder&lt;br /&gt;Why the tread on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Superficial, really&lt;br /&gt;The ways we think&lt;br /&gt;And of course&lt;br /&gt;The ways we do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if anyone&lt;br /&gt;Has discovered &lt;br /&gt;The ways in which&lt;br /&gt;we bind ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No.&lt;br /&gt;They tread through my heart&lt;br /&gt;Like it was theirs to own&lt;br /&gt;Later on, they will wonder&lt;br /&gt;What is going on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13210283-114123775980306651?l=tarwennevle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/feeds/114123775980306651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13210283&amp;postID=114123775980306651' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/114123775980306651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/114123775980306651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/2006/03/tread.html' title='Tread'/><author><name>CBlair</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02045174801488033801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13210283.post-114012640055648099</id><published>2006-02-16T13:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-16T13:48:04.173-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mathematically Speaking</title><content type='html'>I have always loved this quote because sometimes it is just more comfortable to be crazy than to wonder why the world is the way it is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The Universe-- some information to help you live in it.&lt;br /&gt;Population: Zero&lt;br /&gt;It is known that there are an infinite number of worlds, simply because there is an infinite amount&lt;br /&gt;of space for them to be in. &lt;br /&gt;However, not every one of them is inhabited.&lt;br /&gt;Therefore, there must be a a finite number of inhabited worlds.&lt;br /&gt;Any finite number divided by infinity is as near to nothing as makes no odds, so the average population&lt;br /&gt;of all planets in the Universe can be said to be zero.&lt;br /&gt;From this it follows that the population of the whole universe is also zero, and that any people you may&lt;br /&gt;meet from time to time are merely products of a deranged imagination."&lt;br /&gt;Douglas Adams&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So mathematically speaking, we are all crazy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13210283-114012640055648099?l=tarwennevle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/feeds/114012640055648099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13210283&amp;postID=114012640055648099' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/114012640055648099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/114012640055648099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/2006/02/mathematically-speaking.html' title='Mathematically Speaking'/><author><name>CBlair</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02045174801488033801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13210283.post-114012622843837538</id><published>2006-02-16T13:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-16T13:43:48.440-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Swimming</title><content type='html'>"He was swimming--and swimming, after all, is what penguins do best."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From my favorite book "A Wish for Wings That Work" by Berkely Breathed&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13210283-114012622843837538?l=tarwennevle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/feeds/114012622843837538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13210283&amp;postID=114012622843837538' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/114012622843837538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/114012622843837538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/2006/02/swimming.html' title='Swimming'/><author><name>CBlair</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02045174801488033801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13210283.post-114012542395528009</id><published>2006-02-16T13:25:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-16T13:30:23.956-08:00</updated><title type='text'>75 Spring Times (The Poem)</title><content type='html'>Inspired by the quote...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;75 Spring times&lt;br /&gt;And 75 Winters&lt;br /&gt;Have come,&lt;br /&gt;And have gone.&lt;br /&gt;So now&lt;br /&gt;Here&lt;br /&gt;I sit,&lt;br /&gt;And Wait&lt;br /&gt;For Death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;75 Spring times&lt;br /&gt;And 75 Winters&lt;br /&gt;I have spent&lt;br /&gt;Visiting all my fears,&lt;br /&gt;to avoid the cost&lt;br /&gt;of Living&lt;br /&gt;Stacked firmly&lt;br /&gt;Against the wall,&lt;br /&gt;When my feet&lt;br /&gt;were made&lt;br /&gt;for dancing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;75 Spring times&lt;br /&gt;And 75 Winters&lt;br /&gt;I have occupied&lt;br /&gt;with meaningless&lt;br /&gt;material things&lt;br /&gt;And the power &lt;br /&gt;of superficial hate&lt;br /&gt;When love &lt;br /&gt;could have been&lt;br /&gt;my best Captor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;75 Spring times &lt;br /&gt;And 75 Winters&lt;br /&gt;half-lived&lt;br /&gt;Because &lt;br /&gt;I never sought&lt;br /&gt;for anything more&lt;br /&gt;Until time &lt;br /&gt;Began to fade&lt;br /&gt;in its last Winter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cara Blair 2005&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13210283-114012542395528009?l=tarwennevle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/feeds/114012542395528009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13210283&amp;postID=114012542395528009' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/114012542395528009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/114012542395528009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/2006/02/75-spring-times-poem_16.html' title='75 Spring Times (The Poem)'/><author><name>CBlair</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02045174801488033801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13210283.post-113751393499991823</id><published>2006-01-17T08:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-20T09:29:47.886-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cowboy Wisdom</title><content type='html'>The simplest things always ring true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cowboy Wisdom&lt;br /&gt;-- Author Unknown &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't name a pig you plan to eat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Country fences need to be horse high, pig tight, and bull strong. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is not about how fast you run, or how high you climb, but how well you bounce. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep skunks and bankers at a distance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is simpler when you plough around the stump. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A bumble bee is faster than a John Deere tractor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Words that soak into your ears are whispered, not yelled. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanness don't happen overnight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forgive your enemies. It messes with their heads. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't sell your mule to buy a plough. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't corner something meaner than you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It don't take a very big person to carry a grudge. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can't unsay a cruel thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every path has some puddles. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you wallow with pigs, expect to get dirty. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best sermons are lived, not preached. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of the stuff people worry about never happens. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't squat with your spurs on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't judge people by their relatives. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember that silence is sometimes the best answer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Live a good, honorable life. Then when you get older and think back, you'll enjoy it a second time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't interfere with something that ain't botherin' you none. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Timing has a lot to do with the outcome of a rain dance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's better to be a has-been than a never-was. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The easiest way to eat crow is while it's still warm. The colder it gets, the harder it is to swaller. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is stop diggin'. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it don't seem like it's worth the effort, it probably ain't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It don't take a genius to spot a goat in a flock of sheep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes you get and sometimes you get got. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The biggest troublemaker you'll probably ever have to deal with watches you shave his face in the mirror every morning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you get to thinkin' you're a person of some influence, try orderin' somebody else's dog around. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry about bitin' off more'n you can chew; your mouth is probably a whole lot bigger'n you think. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only cows know why they stampede. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Always drink upstream from the herd. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're ridin' ahead of the herd, take a look back every now and then to make sure it's still there with ya. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good judgment comes from experience, and a lotta that comes from bad judgment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lettin' the cat outta the bag is a whole lot easier than puttin' it back in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can't tell how good a man or a watermelon is 'till they get thumped. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never miss a good chance to shut up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13210283-113751393499991823?l=tarwennevle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/feeds/113751393499991823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13210283&amp;postID=113751393499991823' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/113751393499991823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/113751393499991823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/2006/01/cowboy-wisdom.html' title='Cowboy Wisdom'/><author><name>CBlair</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02045174801488033801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13210283.post-113572332614405834</id><published>2005-12-27T14:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-27T14:42:12.776-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hope for A Place Not Seen</title><content type='html'>I am uneasy. I feel like running to a place where no one exists. A place still untouched by man. A place where judgment, cynicism,and condemnation have no place to reside. A place where the media has no right to bombard me with their 'righteous' opinions. A place where I can make up my own mind without criticism. A place where I can choose forgiveness without being trampled upon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13210283-113572332614405834?l=tarwennevle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/feeds/113572332614405834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13210283&amp;postID=113572332614405834' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/113572332614405834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/113572332614405834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/2005/12/hope-for-place-not-seen.html' title='Hope for A Place Not Seen'/><author><name>CBlair</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02045174801488033801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13210283.post-112768982648790997</id><published>2005-09-25T15:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-25T16:10:26.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>75 Springtimes</title><content type='html'>"Seventy-five years. That's how much time you get if you're lucky. Seventy-five years. Seventy-five Winters. Seventy-five Springtimes. Seventy-five Summers. And Seventy-five Autumns. When you look at it like that, it's not a lot of time, is it? Don't waste them. Get your head out of the rat race and forget about the superficial things that pre-occupy your existence and get back to what's important now. Right Now. This very second. And I'm not saying, drop everything and let the world come to a grinding halt. I'm saying that you could become a seeker. You could be loving more. You could be taking some chances. You could be living more. You could be spending more time with your family. You could be getting in touch with the part of you that lives instead of fears; the part of you that loves instead of hates; the part of you that recognizes the humanity in all of us. And I tell you, That's where you're fortunate."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this another favorite movie quote from the movie "Holy Man"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13210283-112768982648790997?l=tarwennevle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/feeds/112768982648790997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13210283&amp;postID=112768982648790997' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/112768982648790997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/112768982648790997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/2005/09/75-springtimes.html' title='75 Springtimes'/><author><name>CBlair</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02045174801488033801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13210283.post-112768839049388405</id><published>2005-09-25T15:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-25T15:47:20.690-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Basically Good</title><content type='html'>"Sometimes the things that may or may not be true are the things a man needs to believe in the most. That people are basically good; that honor, courage, and virtue mean everything; that power and money, money and power mean nothing; that good always triumphs over evil; and I want you to remember this, that love... true love never dies. You remember that, boy. You remember that. Doesn't matter if it's true or not. You see, a man should believe in those things, because those are the things worth believing in."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This a quote from one of my favorite movies, Second-hand Lions"&lt;br /&gt;It sums up feelings of my heart that well up into my eyes. Hope is a basic human need. Whether things are true or not we have to have hope that good does exist in this world. It is essential to our lives.  Without hope we become the very thing we have fought against.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13210283-112768839049388405?l=tarwennevle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/feeds/112768839049388405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13210283&amp;postID=112768839049388405' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/112768839049388405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/112768839049388405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/2005/09/basically-good.html' title='Basically Good'/><author><name>CBlair</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02045174801488033801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13210283.post-112235445930999546</id><published>2005-07-25T21:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-06T07:14:51.903-08:00</updated><title type='text'>MauMau TuTu the Confident Stowaway</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6309/1152/1600/IMG009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6309/1152/320/IMG009.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This my cat. Her official name is Baby,well because at the time I couldn't make anything else fit her. I don't call her that much anymore, either. I usually call her MauMau TuTu Cat or TuTu for short. She seems too think highly of these monikers for she will answer to them sometimes, if she feels like it. This picture is indicative of her everyday behavior. I would say she thinks she is cute, but I am almost positive she thinks she is MauMau TuTu the most stunningly cute,sexy cat to grace the planet. No one on this earth could convince her otherwise. Why? She just knows who she is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13210283-112235445930999546?l=tarwennevle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/feeds/112235445930999546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13210283&amp;postID=112235445930999546' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/112235445930999546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/112235445930999546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/2005/07/maumau-tutu-confident-stowaway.html' title='MauMau TuTu the Confident Stowaway'/><author><name>CBlair</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02045174801488033801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13210283.post-112060831413369469</id><published>2005-07-05T17:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-05T17:05:14.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This is not poetic at all. I just found out that a little girl that goes to church with me was killed last night on the 4th of July. She was struck by a car. She was barely 3 years old. I am still in shock. She was just so little...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13210283-112060831413369469?l=tarwennevle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/feeds/112060831413369469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13210283&amp;postID=112060831413369469' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/112060831413369469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/112060831413369469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/2005/07/this-is-not-poetic-at-all.html' title=''/><author><name>CBlair</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02045174801488033801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13210283.post-112042657698458044</id><published>2005-07-03T14:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-03T14:36:16.990-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mathematical or Creative?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6309/1152/1600/where%20paths%20cross21.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6309/1152/320/where%20paths%20cross21.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been a bit obsessed with fractals. I have always liked creating something. I took an art class and I loved it, but I never pursued it really any further than that. I have always liked to to experiment with art. Mostly finding myself in abstract realms.&lt;br /&gt;I stumbled across fractals on the net and downloaded a couple of programs. I have been obsessively creating and recreating off and on. Mathmatically creative.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13210283-112042657698458044?l=tarwennevle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/feeds/112042657698458044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13210283&amp;postID=112042657698458044' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/112042657698458044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/112042657698458044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/2005/07/mathematical-or-creative.html' title='Mathematical or Creative?'/><author><name>CBlair</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02045174801488033801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13210283.post-111975494395074474</id><published>2005-06-25T19:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-25T20:02:23.950-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How to Find your Own Limelight</title><content type='html'>Whenever I'm disappointed with my spot in life, I stop and think about little Jamie Scott. Jamie was trying out for a part in a school play. His mother told me that he'd set his heart on being in it, though she feared he would not be chosen.&lt;br /&gt;On the day the parts were awarded, I went with her to collect him after&lt;br /&gt;school. Jamie rushed up to her, eyes shining with pride and excitement.&lt;br /&gt;"Guess what Mom," he shouted, and then said those words that will remain a&lt;br /&gt;lesson to me...&lt;br /&gt;"I've been chosen to clap and cheer."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13210283-111975494395074474?l=tarwennevle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/feeds/111975494395074474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13210283&amp;postID=111975494395074474' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/111975494395074474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/111975494395074474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/2005/06/how-to-find-your-own-limelight.html' title='How to Find your Own Limelight'/><author><name>CBlair</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02045174801488033801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13210283.post-111975441607079714</id><published>2005-06-25T19:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-25T19:53:36.073-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Little Help From our Friends</title><content type='html'>(Reason #212 I love Leo Buscaglia)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Author and lecturer Leo Buscaglia once talked about a contest he was&lt;br /&gt;asked&lt;br /&gt;to judge. The purpose of the contest was to find the most caring child.&lt;br /&gt;The winner was:&lt;br /&gt;A four year old child whose next door neighbor was an elderly gentleman&lt;br /&gt;who had recently lost his wife. Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went&lt;br /&gt;into the old gentleman's yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there.&lt;br /&gt;When his mother asked him what he had said to the neighbor, the little&lt;br /&gt;boy said, "Nothing, I just helped him cry."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13210283-111975441607079714?l=tarwennevle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/feeds/111975441607079714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13210283&amp;postID=111975441607079714' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/111975441607079714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/111975441607079714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/2005/06/little-help-from-our-friends.html' title='A Little Help From our Friends'/><author><name>CBlair</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02045174801488033801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13210283.post-111971712623603773</id><published>2005-06-25T09:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-25T09:43:28.330-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes, it is raining, but the sun is still shining</title><content type='html'>"I believe in the sun, even if it isn't shining. &lt;br /&gt;I believe in love, even when I am alone. &lt;br /&gt;I believe in God, even when he is silent." &lt;br /&gt;WWII Refugee &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These few words touch me so deeply. It so easy to believe in God when you are being blessed, but when you are entrenched in adversity--that is a beautiful thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend of mine was visiting New York for a week. She saw all the sights. After she came back she related her visit. I don't remember where she went or what she did, but I do remember this wonderful story of departure from New York. When she got on the plane it was raining. It was gloomy. Not a drop of sunshine. What a way to end her trip. As they ascended, they rose through the clouds until they were finally above them. Above those treacherous clouds was the bluest sky and the sun was still shining.  Sooner or later, while it is raining both of these little reminders come to me. Yes, it is still raining, but I know the sun is still shining.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13210283-111971712623603773?l=tarwennevle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/feeds/111971712623603773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13210283&amp;postID=111971712623603773' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/111971712623603773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/111971712623603773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/2005/06/yes-it-is-raining-but-sun-is-still.html' title='Yes, it is raining, but the sun is still shining'/><author><name>CBlair</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02045174801488033801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13210283.post-111947826131298620</id><published>2005-06-22T15:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-22T16:30:20.306-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Natural Talent</title><content type='html'>Writing is something that feels natural to my fingers. Words flow out of the pen to stain the blank page, while my eyes stare in in wonder. It is calming and soothing, almost transcendental, cosmical, enigmatic. It provides a surety of what I know I was born to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The words come so quickly one might be inclined to believe that the words come from the pen itself--seemingly effortless. That is bliss.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13210283-111947826131298620?l=tarwennevle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/feeds/111947826131298620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13210283&amp;postID=111947826131298620' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/111947826131298620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/111947826131298620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/2005/06/natural-talent.html' title='Natural Talent'/><author><name>CBlair</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02045174801488033801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13210283.post-111928171707745193</id><published>2005-06-20T08:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-20T08:35:17.080-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A little kokology</title><content type='html'>I have this realy awesome book called kokology:The game of self discovery. It is a series of psychological games designed to reaveal atttitudes about just anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a short one:&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Imagine a clear blue sky. Just thinking about it should lift your spirits. Now look at the landscape. Which of the following landscapes do find most calming? &lt;br /&gt;A snowy white plain &lt;br /&gt;A blue seacape &lt;br /&gt;A green mountain &lt;br /&gt;A field of yellow flowers &lt;br /&gt;Intrigued? Ask me what it all means&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13210283-111928171707745193?l=tarwennevle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/feeds/111928171707745193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13210283&amp;postID=111928171707745193' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/111928171707745193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/111928171707745193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/2005/06/little-kokology.html' title='A little kokology'/><author><name>CBlair</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02045174801488033801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13210283.post-111923702686066870</id><published>2005-06-19T19:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-19T20:10:26.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Little More Inspiration</title><content type='html'>These are my most favorite words ever put together. Some have heard me quote it before, because I love you so much!! And if you haven't, I love you and this is my gift to you!!!&lt;br /&gt;"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us. We ask ourselves,'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There is nothing enlightening about shrinking so that other people wont feel insecure around you.&lt;br /&gt;We are born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us, it is in everyone, and as we let our light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."&lt;br /&gt;                                  Nelson Mandela&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those words move something in my heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13210283-111923702686066870?l=tarwennevle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/feeds/111923702686066870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13210283&amp;postID=111923702686066870' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/111923702686066870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/111923702686066870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/2005/06/little-more-inspiration.html' title='A Little More Inspiration'/><author><name>CBlair</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02045174801488033801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13210283.post-111923610301389263</id><published>2005-06-19T19:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-19T19:56:37.236-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Leo Buscaglia &amp; Waters That Dont Move</title><content type='html'>The most huggable lovable human being who ever lived on this earth. I have read several his books. He is a most interesting person. He was a college professors who taught classes on love. He passed away but the words he wrote live on and he is still doing what he did best--showing people how to love. I love to quote him. The qoute I have been thinking about recently is this one:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Stop doing all the things you know you can do so well and try something new."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get hung sometimes on what I can do well. I am sure that we all do, to some degree.&lt;br /&gt;Living, though is about growing. There can be no growth if you just stay in the same pond. I think we all know what happens to waters that don't move. Well, if you don't just ask anyone who has seen pond scum...bleck!!&lt;br /&gt;I just need to start moving again. Motly, because I want that for others, too. I know that can't even begin to inspire anyone else if I am not living life to its fullest. I have heard the old cliche that you have to do it for your self, but I am never truly happy unless I am serving someone else. Those are the moments I truly feel at peace. When I am helping others, I feel at one with the universe. I sleep, think, eat,speak, and even breathe better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13210283-111923610301389263?l=tarwennevle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/feeds/111923610301389263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13210283&amp;postID=111923610301389263' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/111923610301389263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/111923610301389263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/2005/06/leo-buscaglia-waters-that-dont-move.html' title='Leo Buscaglia &amp; Waters That Dont Move'/><author><name>CBlair</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02045174801488033801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13210283.post-111843555540007595</id><published>2005-06-10T13:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-10T13:32:35.406-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"If you are what you do, then when you don't, you aren't"&lt;br /&gt;Wayne Dyer&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13210283-111843555540007595?l=tarwennevle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/feeds/111843555540007595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13210283&amp;postID=111843555540007595' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/111843555540007595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/111843555540007595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/2005/06/if-you-are-what-you-do-then-when-you.html' title=''/><author><name>CBlair</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02045174801488033801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13210283.post-111781571169703661</id><published>2005-06-03T09:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-03T09:21:59.013-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img src='http://images.neopets.com/template_images/chia_bruce.gif'&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13210283-111781571169703661?l=tarwennevle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/feeds/111781571169703661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13210283&amp;postID=111781571169703661' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/111781571169703661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/111781571169703661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/2005/06/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>CBlair</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02045174801488033801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13210283.post-111751894449614711</id><published>2005-05-30T22:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-01T20:12:31.933-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Am Neither a Sacrilege or A Privelige. I May Not Be Competent or Excellent, But I Am Present.</title><content type='html'>(The most profound poem I think I have ever read. It has been with me for a while. )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My happiness is me, not you.&lt;br /&gt;Not only because you may be temporary,&lt;br /&gt;But also becasue you want me to be what I am not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot be happy when I change&lt;br /&gt;Merely to satisfy your selfishness.&lt;br /&gt;Nor can I feel content when you critcise me for not&lt;br /&gt;thinking your thoughts,&lt;br /&gt;Or for seeing like you do.&lt;br /&gt;You call me a rebel.&lt;br /&gt;And yet each time I have rejected your beliefs&lt;br /&gt;You have rebelled against mine.&lt;br /&gt;I do not try to mold your mind.&lt;br /&gt;I know you are trying hard enough to be just you.&lt;br /&gt;And I cannot allow you to tell me what to be--&lt;br /&gt;for I am concentrating on being me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You said that I was transparent&lt;br /&gt;And easily forgotten&lt;br /&gt;But why then did you try to use my lifetime,&lt;br /&gt;To prove to yourself who you are?&lt;br /&gt;Michellle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got this poem from one of my favorite books by Leo Buscaglia. He quoted it in his book Living,Loving , &amp;amp; Learning. On the inside of this manuscript written by Michelle was this introduction:&lt;br /&gt;Michelle! You were with us for such a short time before choosing that fog-swept beach to continue on your way. It was July 1967, and you were only 20.&lt;br /&gt;She left us 25 poems. She found it too hard to be "just me."&lt;br /&gt;We hope these poems are presented as you wish, Michelle. You are present, we love you and we need you, and we promise we will remember, until we meet again&lt;br /&gt;........San Fransicco, July 1969.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13210283-111751894449614711?l=tarwennevle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/feeds/111751894449614711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13210283&amp;postID=111751894449614711' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/111751894449614711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/111751894449614711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/2005/05/i-am-neither-sacrilege-or-privelige-i.html' title='I Am Neither a Sacrilege or A Privelige. I May Not Be Competent or Excellent, But I Am Present.'/><author><name>CBlair</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02045174801488033801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13210283.post-111721826353724581</id><published>2005-05-27T10:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-27T15:53:18.816-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Taking the chance</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;Its dangerous business, going out your door.&lt;br /&gt;You step onto the road, and if you don't keep&lt;br /&gt;your feet, there's no knowing where you might&lt;br /&gt;be swept off to.&lt;br /&gt;JRR Tolkien&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13210283-111721826353724581?l=tarwennevle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/feeds/111721826353724581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13210283&amp;postID=111721826353724581' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/111721826353724581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/111721826353724581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/2005/05/taking-chance.html' title='Taking the chance'/><author><name>CBlair</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02045174801488033801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13210283.post-111717454746030970</id><published>2005-05-26T23:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-26T23:15:47.463-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Path</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;The road goes ever on&lt;br /&gt;Down from the door&lt;br /&gt;where it began.&lt;br /&gt;Now far ahead the Road has gone,&lt;br /&gt;And I must follow, if I can&lt;br /&gt;Pursuing it with weary feet,&lt;br /&gt;Until it joins some larger way&lt;br /&gt;Where many paths &amp;amp; errands meet&lt;br /&gt;And wither then? I can not say. &lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;JRR Tolkien&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13210283-111717454746030970?l=tarwennevle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/feeds/111717454746030970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13210283&amp;postID=111717454746030970' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/111717454746030970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13210283/posts/default/111717454746030970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarwennevle.blogspot.com/2005/05/path.html' title='The Path'/><author><name>CBlair</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02045174801488033801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
