The Thinking Man’s Winnie-the-Pooh

“Something feels funny. I must be thinking too hard

The bear without a brain was actually quite profound.He tells adult readers to stop, look, listen, and learn from nature, animals and little children. Intellect isn’t as important as heart and intuition.

“

“Yes,” said Piglet,

“Rabbit’s clever.” 

“And he has Brain.” 

“Yes,” said Piglet, “Rabbit has Brain.”

There was a long silence. “I suppose,” said Pooh, “that that’s why he never understands anything

Poetry and Hums aren’t things which you get, they’re things which get you. And all you can do is go where they can find you. 

“Some people talk to animals. Not many listen though. That’s the problem.”

Did you ever stop to think, and forget to start again?”

“Well,” said Pooh, “what I like best — ” and then he had to stop and think. Because although eating honey was a very good thing to do, there was a moment just before you began to eat it which was better than when you were, but he didn’t know what it was called.”

 

 

 

“I am a bear of very little brain and long words bother me.”

Humourous, Vintage Paintings of Mothers and Children

When I think of a typical hundred year-old painting  of mother with her children, I think of idealized images where everyone has a sombre expression on their faces. Well these painters had a sense of as humour as they capture the moments when a mother is overwhelmed by her children's need to touch her, even when she tries to work. These artists must have been fathers because they are remarkably insightful  into the mother/ child dynamic. .They remind me of the days when I felt like a mauled mother cat, feeling like if one more person touched me that I would scream.

Great Quotes About Children

Dr. Seuss, authour

“A person’s a person, no matter how small.”

Nelson Mandela,

We owe our children, the most vulnerable citizens in our society, a life free of violence and fear.”

“There can be no keener revelation of a society’s soul than the way in which it treats its children.”

Albert Einstein -

The pursuit of truth and beauty is a sphere of activity in which we are permitted to remain children all our lives. 

- Anonymous 
 “Children are great imitators. So give them something great to imitate.”

Barbara Bush, former U.S. first lady“

You have to love your children unselfishly.”

English proverb

The soul is healed by being with children.”

                                                                                    John W. Whitehead, founder, Rutherford Institute

“Children are the living messages we send to a time we will not see.”

Frederick Douglass

 It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men.

The most interesting information comes from children, for they tell all they know and then stop.

Mark Twain  

Mohandas Gandhi,“

If we are to teach real peace in this world, and if we are to carry on a real war against war, we shall have to begin with the children.”

Emma Goldman, author“No one has yet fully realized the wealth of sympathy, kindness and generosity hidden in the soul of a child. The effort of every true education should be to unlock that treasure.”

Lady Bird Johnson, former U.S. first lady

“Children are likely to live up to what you believe of them.”

 Mignon McLaughlin, journalist and author

“Only where children gather is 

there any real chance of fun.

Thank-you

A heart-felt thank-you because  of your support and warm encouragement, blogging opened the doors to the world of writing for me.

Actually I can hardly believe that I feel free enough today to stand up and boldly yell, ” I love writing and I want to help others start writing by encouraging them to blog.”

It took me years to finally decide to start writing again. I had taken a 30 year sabbatical since leaving university to raise 9 children and I just couldn’t seem to start. Perhaps I could have started seven years ago when everyone was in school full time but realistically there was simply too much physical work involved in running a household for eleven people and helping with the farm animals and our large vegetable garden.

There is a lot of work on a hobby farm with a family of 11.

Instead of writing, I told stories. The Irish side rose to the surface as I entertained family and friends with the latest exploits of my kids and the farm. Their escapades really were legendary because some situations can only occur with the combination of 9 kids and a hobby farm. I told the hilariously true stories of our family in true Irish form, with wry wit and dramatic flourishes. As an oral story-teller, I discovered that the tales rose up from deep within me because I had assimilated them and made them my own. In fact, my creations were the products of my right brain; they were imaginative, intuitive and alive. I did not know ahead of time exactly what I would say. I did not memorize a script with my logical left brain. No, the very act of speaking words aloud was part of the creative process. The stories were alive, full of joy and humour and that spirit was infectious.

My adult offspring encouraged me to start writing again.

For years, my children badgered me, “When are you going to start putting our stories down on paper?”

Acquaintances tentatively suggested, “I really think you should start writing.”

Strangers at conferences challenged me, ”You are very articulate, you can think on your feet, have you ever considered writing?”

Once four people approached me and said, “You are a natural. You are called to write. What is holding you back?

I froze inside when I sat down in front of a computer

However, when I closeted myself in a room to sit down and write, I froze. I considered writing to be a solitary craft but looking at a blank screen or talking into thin air was a sterile exercise in futility for me. I could not translate the same creative energy that I experienced telling a story verbally to the keyboard. My intuitive, imaginative side stayed buried and my logical intellect wrote boring drivel.

Somehow I heard about the existence of blogs, blogging sites and blogging directories and I snapped to attention. Suddenly, I was thinking up a username, a title for a blog, looking at templates and design and layout. All these activities loosened up my creativity while I sat typing

It was like an invisible barrier slowly melted, allowing my imagination to bubble up in a stream of written words that felt just as exhilarating as my oral tradition. I was excited to start sharing written stories with other people, people who would read them, respond, comment and give me feed back on what I had written. Within weeks, I was no longer an island but part of a community of other writers who had the very same insecurities and problems as I did.

It was spring time in my writer’s soul

At first I felt like I had just stepped off a spaceship into an alien world. I did not know how to do anything. Reading directions on-line was useless; I couldn’t understand half the words they used, never mind how to follow their directions. I still struggle with uploading, downloading, back linking…..

Early on I read that bloggers, on the whole, are supportive and unselfishly helpful, rejoicing in each others success and offering free guidance . Well, I discovered that this statement is true. So if you are tentatively wondering if you will fit in, fear not. If a 58 year-old, computer illiterate, web dummy and green writer can learn while having loads of fun, you can too. Trust me.

A Challenge: Reveal The Person Behind Your Blog

Last year, someone on Blogher suggested that writers should enlighten their readers by revealing odd facts about themselves. A challenge went out and at least ten writers  posted their lists on Blogher. Well, to end the year on a reflective note, here is my list of humourous, and/or thoughtful insights about the person behind my blog- me

1. I HATE scary movies. As soon as the music rises ominously, I start pacing. Once in a movie theatre, at The Lord of the Rings, I jumped and managed to throw quarts of popcorn in a 4′ radius all around us. It landed in people’s hair, on their coats… everywhere. My husband has never let me hold the popcorn again.

2. I am the definitive bookworm. I read at least 5 books a week till I was 15, stopping only if I had too much homework to keep it up. My mother used to beg me on nice summer days to , “At least read outside!” Sometimes, to limit my late night reading, I have read perched on the edge of a cold tub, only to realize 2 hours later that I am frozen and can hardly walk.

3. I love STRONG tea, butter tarts, red wine and cilantro. I love old houses and restoring their beauty, gardening, big windows and old pine floors.

4. Someone told my mother that I was cute but my sister would be beautiful! I am short, 5′ 1″ and 104 lb. I was a cute little kid (the grade six girls wanted to cart me around like a doll ),  a cute new mother,  my kids’ friends think I am cute and I will be a cute, little old lady. Doomed to be forever cute.

5. I have a sadistic streak. The times I have laughed the hardest concern my husband and bathtubs. Once Michael was stuck in a too small bathtub, trying to rinse his hair with a princess shower head without getting any water on the floor. The second hilarious incident was when he was stuck in a cold bath, with his leg sticking straight out in a cast, while I attempted to haul him up! Both times I laughed so hard that I ended up on the floor. My husband did not even smile.

6. My athletic skills are dismal. Michael, my athletic husband finally gave up on trying to find a sport to suit me when he realized that the only possible choices were a very gentle game of badminton or croquet but even that was a stretch.

7. At 13, I played Becky Thatcher in a Tom Sawyer musical even though I really can’t sing. I also I had to kiss him in front of the school, then night performances, a televised production and sing on a record. I STILL cringe at the memory.

8. I can’t spell, type, and I am basically just entering the 21st century’s computer world. So what would be the most difficult dream be to fulfill? Why, become a writer and of course this is the path I find myself on.

9. I love my husband and my kids. I love play dough, looking for bugs, colouring, reading kids books and making doll houses. I really need lots of grandkids.

10. I am eccentric, living on the margins of society and I love quirky, intellectual nerds with a sense of humour. I often laugh in the face of tragedy. It works for me.Only my parents really get my humour.

11. God has managed to heal and love me in spite of myself and I could weep in gratitude for His patient mercy.

12. If it was not for my daughters buying me clothes, cutting and dying my hair and teaching me about make-up, I would look very frumpy.

13. I was pregnant and nursing, often both, for 18 years without a break. My husband says he saved me from becoming a nun librarian.

14. I am an inefficient square, trying to force myself to roll through chores like a circle. I just recently have begun to take delight in my inefficiency.

15. I need to start drawing and painting again.

16 My favorite books are The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis and the Bible.

A Parable About a Frog

Throw a frog into a

Pot of boiling water;

He will jump right out.

Throw a frog into a

Pot of cold water,

Slowly raise the heat;

He will remain oblivious

Even unto death.

Throw a good man

Into a cruel society;

He will see injustice clearly and

 Speak out.

Throw a good man

Into a cold and polite society;

Slowly change

Standards and values.

He will remain silent,

With no sense of right or wrong 

Even unto death.

.

If the Grinch Can Change…

Dr. Seuss has a wonderful gift of delivering profound words of wisdom in humourous children’s stories and How The Grinch Stole Christmas is no exception. A mean-spirited Grinch, irritated by the joyful residents of Whoville decides to ruin Christmas by stealing every present, decoration and holiday delicacy only to discover that they still wake up singing with joy on Christmas morning for Christmas is not bought at a store. Somehow the Grinch sees, hears and understands and the has the courage to allow truth to literally transform him. His heart expands with love and generosity.

Then the Whos down in Whoville will all cry BooHoo!” “That’s a noise,” grinned the Grinch, “That I simply MUST hear!”

So he paused. And the Grinch put his hand to his ear. And he did hear a sound rising over the snow. It started in low. Then it started to grow. But the sound wasn’t sad! Why, this sound sounded merry! It couldn’t be so! But it WAS merry! VERY! He stared down at Whoville! The Grinch popped his eyes! Then he shook! What he saw was a shocking surprise! Every Who down in Whoville, the tall and the small, Was singing! Without any presents at all!“

And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so?

It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled ’till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn’t come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.”  Dr. Seuss

And what happened then? Well, in Whoville they say that the Grinch’s small heart grew three sizes that day. And then the true meaning of Christmas came through, and the Grinch found the strength of ten Grinches plus two. 

Welcome, Christmas, bring your cheer. Cheer to all Whos far and near. Christmas Day is in our grasp so long as we have hands to clasp. Christmas Day will always be just as long as we have we. Welcome Christmas while we stand, heart to heart and hand in hand.