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zBrown
Ice climber
chingadero de chula vista
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Dec 12, 2012 - 06:33pm PT
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about time for another sentence or two
Some got six month some got one solid
Some got one solid year indeed-e
Some got six month some got one solid year
But me and my buddies all got lifetime here
30 days in the hole
30 days in the hole
30 days in the hole
That's what they give you
30 days in the hole
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Gypsy
Social climber
NC
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Dec 13, 2012 - 08:53am PT
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I was with my son in the hospital all day yesterday. He had surgery on his leg. Now he is in stable condition. I will return this morning. Our biggest problem at this point is no insurance and we are both poorer than poor.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Dec 13, 2012 - 11:06am PT
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Poor.
Roop.
Poro.
Proo.
Orpo.
Opor.
Orop.
Oorp.
Oopr.
Here we have the bottom of the stack, those who haven't any letters even.
And so they just sing.
Angus Mac-ind-oc was the Cupid of the Gaels. He was a harper
of the sweetest music, and was //attended by birds, his own trans-
formed kisses//, which hovered, invisible, over young men and
maidens of Erin, whispering love into their ears.
WHEN we say, "A little bird told me," we are
talking legend and folklore and superstition all
at once. There is an old Basque story of a bird--always a small one in these tales--that tells the truth;
and our Biloxi Indians used to say the same of the
hummingbird. Breton peasants still credit all birds with
the power of using human language on proper occasions,
and traditions in all parts of the world agree that every
bird had this power once on a time if not now. The
fireside-tales of the nomads of Oriental deserts or of
North American plains and forest alike attest faith in
this power; and conversation by and with birds is almost
the main stock of the stories heard on our Southern cot-
ton-plantations. You will perhaps recall the bulbul [Tennyson's The Recollections of]of the Arabian Nights, and, if you please, you may
read in another chapter of the conversational pewit and
hoopoe of Solomonic fame.
Biblical authority exists in the confidence of the
Prophet Elijah that a "bird of the air...shall tell the
matter"; and monkish traditions abound in revelations
whispered in the ear of the faithful by winged mes-
sengers from divine sources, as you may read further
along if you have patience to turn the leaves. The poets
keep alive the pretty fiction; and the rest of us resort
to the phrase with an arch smile whenever we do not care
to quote our authority for repeating some half-secret bit
of gossip. "This magical power of understanding bird-
talk,"..."is regularly the way in which the
seers of myths obtain their information."
Primitive men--and those we style the Ancients were
primitive so far as nature is concerned--regarded birds
as supernaturally wise. This canniness is implied in
many of the narratives and incidents set down in the
succeeding pages; and in view of it birds came to be
regarded by early man with great respect, yet also with
apprehension, for they might utilize their knowledge to
his harm. For example: The Canada jay is believed
by the Indians along the northern shore of Hudson Bay
to give warning whenever they approach an Eskimo camp--usually, of course, with hostile intent; and naturally those Indians kill that kind of jay whenever they can.
....
Now the idea underlying all this faith in the super-
natural wisdom and prophetic gift in birds is the general
supposition that they are spirits, or, at any rate, possessed
by spirits, a doctrine that appears in various guises but is
universal in the world of primitive culture — a world
nearer to us sophisticated readers than perhaps we
realize: but a good many little children inhabit it, even
within our doors.
"The primitive mind, Dr. Brinton asserts, "did not
recognize any deep distinction between the lower animals
and man"; and continues:
The savage knew that the beast was his superior in many
points, in craft and in strength, in fleetness and intuition, and he
regarded it with respect. To him the brute had a soul not in-
ferior to his own, and a language which the wise among men
might on occasion learn....Therefore with wide unanimity
he placed certain species of animals nearer to God than is man
himself, or even identified them with the manifestations of the
Highest.
None was in this respect a greater favorite than the bird.
Its soaring flight, its strange or sweet notes, the marked hues
of its plumage, combined to render it a fit emblem of power
and beauty. The Dyaks of Borneo trace their descent to
Singalang Burong, the god of birds; and birds as the ancestors
of the totemic family are extremely common among the
American Indians. The Eskimos say that they have the faculty
of soul or life beyond all other creatures, and in most primitive
tribes they have been regarded as the messengers of the divine,
and the special purveyors of the vital principles....and every-
where to be able to understand the language of birds was
equivalent to being able to converse with the gods.
If this is true it is not surprising that savages in various
parts of the world trace their tribal origin to a super-
natural bird of the same form and name as some familiar
local species, which was inhabited by the soul of their
heroic "first man." The Osage Indians of Kansas, for
example, say that as far back as they can conceive of
time their ancestors were alive, but had neither bodies
nor souls. They existed beneath the lowest of the four
"upper worlds' and at last migrated to the highest, where
they obtained souls. Then followed travels in which they
searched for some source whence they might get human
bodies, and at last asked the question of a redbird sitting
on her nest. She replied: "I can cause your children to
have human bodies from my own." She explained that
her wings would be their arms, her head their head, and
so on through a long list of parts, external and internal,
showing herself a good comparative anatomist. Finally
she declared: "The speech (or breath) of children will
I bestow on your children."
Such is the story of how humanity reached the earth,
according to one branch of the Osages : other gentes
also believe themselves descended from birds that came
down from an upper world. Dozens of similar cases
might be quoted, of which I will select one because of its
curious features. The Seri, an exclusive and backward
tribe inhabiting the desert-like island Tiburon, in the Gulf
of California, ascribe the creation of the world, and of
themselves in particular, to the Ancient of Pelicans, a
mythical fowl of supernal wisdom and melodious song--an unexpected poetic touch!--who first raised the earth
above the primeval waters. This last point is in con-
formity with the general belief that a waste of waters
preceded the appearance, by one or another miraculous
means well within the redman's range of experience, of
a bit of land; and it is to be observed that this original
patch of earth, whether fixed or floating, was enlarged
to habitable dimensions not by further miracles, nor by
natural accretion, but, as a rule, by the labor and in-
genuity of the "first men" themselves, usually aided by
favorite animals. Thus the Seri Indians naturally held
the pelican in especial regard, but that did not prevent
their utilizing it to the utmost. Dr. W J McGee found
that one of their customs was to tie a broken-winged, liv-
ing pelican to a stake near the seashore, and then appro-
priate the fishes brought to the captive by its free
relatives.
I'll be sending some regurgitated fish soon, Ariel. The cormorants tell me they hope that your leg mends quickly and you like the fish.
If you wish to read the rest of the article, here's where to do so: http://www.archive.org/stream/birdsinlegendfab00inge/birdsinlegendfab00inge_djvu.txt
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zBrown
Ice climber
chingadero de chula vista
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Dec 13, 2012 - 12:58pm PT
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I was with my son in the hospital all day yesterday. He had surgery on his leg. Now he is in stable condition. I will return this morning. Our biggest problem at this point is no insurance and we are both poorer than poor.
Does the driver of the car have insurance? If he/she does, then it shold cover his Ariel's medical expenses.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Dec 13, 2012 - 02:39pm PT
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http://www.flickr.com/people/gypsyflores/
You can offer some photos for sale.
Why are we telling a Gypsy how to get along, they're so self-reliant it's a cliche.
It's because we care. America's not just a business. We exist in our little community, we don't need to worry so much about the rest o' the world, only to appreciate they're there and have neat music and birds and rocks to scale. Mtns. to climb, autobahns to race 'round, minerals to steal.
If we can just get by through December.--Merle
What about my BB-gun, ma? How'm I gonna shoot me some birds?
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Gypsy
Social climber
NC
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Dec 13, 2012 - 07:03pm PT
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-t2-wUPo7Oo
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6O3HTqa7l3A
He will get Medicaid for his medical bills. It is all those other things. His cell phone was crushed, his shoes were probably cut off him etc. Then all the recuperative stuff etc--like he cannot work for a looooong time and I will have to support him etc. North Carolina laws are very weird when it comes to pedestrian accidents. If a pedestrian is even remotely at fault an insurance company does not have to pay. We are waiting for the police report.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Dec 14, 2012 - 10:13pm PT
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O Kate, I loved your voice when we played dame and lord, fishwife and plowman. Sooth, your bountiful gift enlivened many a campfire in our guild, sung by our very own nightingale. The Guild of ST, St. Thomas, huh...
Well, Tiffany was the prima voce in our little choir, mostly all women, unfortunately. My dad's tenor voice bypassed me. Liz had a baritoney voice and did sing with her mother's local talent, a large assembly of female barbershoppers. And Terri and Susan and Miss Blincow, they all worked hard to sing well together. It's a lot of misadventure, too, with a temperamental gal like Tiffany. "Bedlam Girls," that about covers it.
She introduced us to Kate Rusby, who had only just arrived--no mistaking her voice. I guess we listened to Hourglass, while your selection is from her second album, Sleepless. Liz died in 1998, the year after Hourglass came out.
The Weaver School Midsummer's Knight Festival. We are drinking Adam's ale, not single malt. Wrong Knight. :)
Merry Xmas, T & crew, while I'm thinking!
[Click to View YouTube Video]
Oh Annan Water's wondrous deep
And my love Ann is wondrous bonnie
I'm loathe that she should wet her feet
Because I love her best of any.
Go saddle for me the bonny grey mare
Go saddle her and make her ready.
For I must cross the stream tonight,
Or never more I'll see my lady.
He's ridden over field and fen.
O'er moor and moss and many's the mire,
But the spurs of steel were sore to bite.
Sparks from the mare's hoofs flew like fire.
The mare flew over moor and moss,
And when she's reached the Annan Water
She couldn't have ridden a furlong more
Had a thousand whips been laid upon her.
Chorus
And woe betide you Annan Waters
By night you are a gloomy river,
And over you I'll build a bridge
That never more true love can sever.
Oh Boatman put off your boat,
Put off your boat for gold and money.
For I must cross the stream tonight,
Or never more I'll see my lady
Oh the sides are steep, the waters deep.
From bank to brae the water's pouring
And the bonny grey mare she sweats for fear.
She stands to hear the water roaring
And he has tried to swim the stream,
And he swam on both strong and steady,
But the river was deep and strength did fail,
And never more he'll see his lady.
Oh woe betide the willow wand,
And woe betide the bush and briar,
For you broke beneath my true love's hand
When strength did fail and limbs did tire
(Chorus)
That never more true love may sever
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Dec 14, 2012 - 11:01pm PT
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"Two bars of Malaguena and you're in."--Keith Richards
[Click to View YouTube Video]I love the outfit and the flaming red hair!
And the playing is professional and measured.
Yeah, you weren't expecting Charo.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Dec 15, 2012 - 01:28am PT
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FESTIVAL INTERNACIONAL DE LA GUITARRA 2008 - AYACUCHO
[Click to View YouTube Video]
Tempranillo is a variety of black grape widely grown to make full-bodied red wines in its native Spain. Its name is the diminutive of the Spanish temprano ("early"), a reference to the fact that it ripens several weeks earlier than most Spanish red grapes. Tempranillo has been grown on the Iberian Peninsula since the time of Phoenician settlements. It is the main grape used in Rioja, and is often referred to as Spain's noble grape. Grown early in the 20th century to produce jug wines in California, toward the end of the 20th century Tempranillo enjoyed a renaissance there and throughout the world as a fine wine. The grape has been planted in Mexico, New Zealand, South America, USA, South Africa, Australia, Argentina, Turkey and Canada.
Often blended with Grenache and Cariñena (known in Rioja as Mazuelo), Tempranillo is bottled either young or after several years of barrel aging. In Portugal, it is blended with others to produce port wine. Often growing its best at higher altitudes, the grape yields wines that are ruby in colour, with aromas and flavours of berries, plum, tobacco, vanilla, leather and herb.
Fletcher, Chrishmash cheer, ya ol' knob-slinger...happy holidays, yoga-mat breath!
http://www.designingforinfluence.com/knob-creek-runs-out-of-whiskey-and/
It's Friday, but I'm of sundry mind and body as yet, so I thank the Middle Earth path and the Pohono Trail for our having met, along with numerous others. At least a dozen. And the tempranillo. Which I did not touch, thank Bacchus! And the KC. And the afghans. Arf!
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neebee
Social climber
calif/texas
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Dec 15, 2012 - 04:15am PT
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hey there say, gypsy... oh my, :( i sure know how the no insurance thing is, :(
i will keep praying for you all... may new doors open to care for this...
how is he doing emotionaly, i hope his spirits are up...
is there anything we can do?
let us know...
hugs...
thank god he is alive and well... i am so very happy to hear
that... from a mom to a mom, hugs...
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Dec 15, 2012 - 08:34am PT
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[Click to View YouTube Video]
I've got nothing to say...
except, how's your boy been?
Good morning, good morning, good.
Repeat.
Now you're in gear.
And your bird can sing.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=01Gt4dhnS_4
Think like this all day: "I'll be round."
I'm a round. Rounded I am.
Dropkick Murphys/Climbing A Chair To Bed
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9PaphOzOBBc
Climbing A Chair To Bed
You want something out of nothing, you want blood from a stone
To banish all your enemies and wish them safely home
Some would say insanity or crazy, better still
Cut off your nose to spite your face, for life you've lost all will
Now you've mingled with your demons and depression's your excuse
But your lack of conscious effort is a bourbon triple proof
You've expelled them from your lobby but they lurk behind the door
It's a noose of your own making and it's rotten to the core
Are you too afraid of living to make a man's mistakes?
Too afraid of dying 'cause you fear what lies in wait?
Too sad to see the truth never knowing what it takes?
Are you too afraid of dying 'cause you fear what lies in wait?
You've got the barrel fever, so let's take another pass
You've cast up your accounts again and ruined your best hat
You wanna take your final breath, but know not to commit
You yearn for the great silence, so you climb the chair to bed
Are you too afraid of living to make a man's mistakes?
Too afraid of dying 'cause you fear what lies in wait?
Too sad to see the truth never knowing what it takes?
Are you too afraid of dying 'cause you fear what lies in wait?
Are you too afraid of living to make a man's mistakes?
Too afraid of dying 'cause you fear what lies in wait?
Too sad to see the truth never knowing what it takes?
Are you too afraid of dying 'cause you fear what lies in wait?
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zBrown
Ice climber
chingadero de chula vista
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Dec 15, 2012 - 11:24am PT
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mfm, zBrown, WBraun, Neebee - just recently
looking for names for the puppies - was considering just naming them all the same - 8dogKnight
you may have to squint but WBraun has two like everybody else
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Gypsy
Social climber
NC
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Dec 15, 2012 - 12:57pm PT
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Row, row, row your boat
Gently down the stream
Merrily, Merrily, Merrily, Merrily
LIfe is but a dream
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zBrown
Ice climber
chingadero de chula vista
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Dec 15, 2012 - 05:55pm PT
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I'd been wondering of late about Pharoah's Army - apparently they reached their sad end (like we all will some day)
[Click to View YouTube Video]
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Dec 15, 2012 - 07:27pm PT
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Ehem, not to get serious, but to inject something into this thread holier-than-thou-brown-cow-wait-a-minute-I-shoulda-seen-her-a-long-time-ago-and-mad-a-connection: the lady in the brown hair is as nita chiquita as you may find if i heard right, but she's married now.
Other than that, nothing in the photo has changed. Absolutely nothing.
Hey, it's that new Flame's birthday, so happy joy to Ron A. For auld lang syne, and cuz she's so hot, hotter than a back burner, Mr. Birthday, Miss Tina Turner & friends, taking you higher.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=koS3AU9nshM
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