Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Poem in short

Words don’t come for moments like this.
Instead, they are stuck
A small screaming voice far in my head,
Crying is a must.
Hiding isn’t an option.
Faith is a must.
Solving the questions any other way isn’t an option.
Being there is a must.
Missing moments like this aren’t an option.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Stories of the City

One of the reasons I haven't been blogging here lately is because I am trying to do a better job of blogging for DOOR.

Here is my latest post there.

At that blog, I tend to comment on news stories, share articles, and share news that effects and celebrates the 6 cities in the DOOR network.

Good soup

I haven't been posting a lot, and maybe its because I haven't been experimenting lately with food. I am trying to cook more "normal" food due to the pending kid in our house, trying to make good ole American stuff. Tonight, I threw all this in a crockpot and it worked well!

1 big jar of great northern beans
1 large tomato, chopped
1 dry packet of pesto seasoning
half of an onion, chopped
1 large chicken breast that I grilled several days ago, chopped

Low for 4 hours....yummy bean soup!

Served with warm tortilla - Jim had cheese on his, mine plain.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Beautiful Quote

Margaret Mead's vision of a pro-child culture:

"Perhaps we shall also be able to develop a climate of opinion in which a mother waits with suspended imagination for her unknown child, ready to greet a stranger. And adoption may become so common that the drama of waiting for the unknown child with all the weight of longng that is part of having a child by a deeply loved person will be balanced by the drama of going with a loved person to choose a child already born and ready to curl its hand around its adopting father's finger. Children may face gladly the knowledge that they were chosen for what they could be seen to be, a boy or a girl with white or black or brown or saffron skin and with eyes bright as stars or tranquil as dreams. Or they may know, happily, that they came as strangers and that they were welcomed by their parents who had not chosen them but in whose being they had a creative part."

I copied this from The Paris Project blog