[Sven2]

You know what is said about overweight  (fat, politically incorrect!) people: You really let yourself go, man!
Just leave the place all alone, in the dark, not even a zombie moans.  However, despite all the visible signs of irreversible coma of the forum, it's ALIVE.

Memorial showing of JFC is scheduled - in the privacy of your own home, now, see how John smiles and tilts his head in utter delight at someone? Is that you?

Us?

:) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :)

[skor]

Cindy had plans to come down here and see me, but it's a long drive and just not working out. That's OK, I understand, still, it is too bad, would have been fun. Truth for me is that once I am in Big Sur, I just do not leave. Each year this place grows on me more and more.

[Sven2]

Hope everyone survived Irene, no flood or wind damage.

[Water Lily]

Hello Sven... I see you're here... Hope your well...and the puppy...lol is it still alive???jk

[Sven2]

It's been a rainy day, Lily, I was NETsurfing. The doggy is more like a crazed teenager, the sweetest puppy when inside and a wild animal outside. We'll have to get a professional trainer, or his 85 pounds would be dragging me along on one of his chases....  :o

[Water Lily]

So it's a large dog!  I love a rainy day...51 degrees and very chilly... Hope all is well

[skor]

I want to see pictures of your 85 pound puppy, Sven!

[Water Lily]

First explain the differance between you, me and the monkey in the tree?????? Who said that???

[Sven2]

Someone with a megalomaniacal tendencies, I think. 
C'mon, Freddy is not Gaddafi, although given unrestricted power and without John in the vicinity - who knows what could've happened to him.

Skor, - as soon as I find the wire to plug the camera in the computer to upload the pictures.  How am I doing with the articles A and The? Those are some of my linguistic hurdles.  :-[ :D :D :D

[skor]

Write to me, Svennie.

[Sven2]

Oh, Skor, believe me, - I would've if I could.
Heard of the freak Halloween Snowstorm 2011? We got the cruel slap of its white paw. My dogwood, the beauty of the backyard, all full of green leaves, got split at the root in three. It is gone - I turn my eyes away, as the devastation is on every street and in every yard.
Cords of firewood, battery powered radio and the warm body of a dog - what the unappreciated before joys!

Hope everyone is OK.
Ahem, - life is precious.

The Decemberists - Calamity Song

[Water Lily]

Sounds like you had a very bad storm Sven.  Reminds me of our ice storm in 08.  It was like a war zone. 
All is very well with me.  I have been very busy.(LIFE) With my mother and son,  on top of the glorious title of wife.... I have a very small time for socializing on the internet.  However,  I did find my way here to to the JFc site.  I hope all is very well for Sven, flower, Skorda and all else who pass by this place.
see you around cyber-space...  Have a great night..
Now! beam me up Scotty...lol

[skor]

Skorda's OK.

[Sven2]

Good to know, Skor!

Mz.Lily, come back as soon as the family and obligations allow, just be around, post a word or two - no pressure. I'm busy myself, as I'm sure is everyone else, why is that fall is hectic and harried, when the trees raise the sky beams higher, the air is crispy and the fields lie flat, stripped bare. It should be the best time for quiet contemplation, instead we're under an avalanche of sale ads and election tragicomedy.  

I spoke with CissyYost (screen name), she sends her warm wishes to everyone on the BB, to all five of us! :D :D :D :D :D :D :D

[Sven2]

Have a great Thanksgiving feast, dear friends. Love and peace to you and yours.

Happiness    


There's just no accounting for happiness,
or the way it turns up like a prodigal
who comes back to the dust at your feet
having squandered a fortune far away.

And how can you not forgive?
You make a feast in honor of what
was lost, and take from its place the finest
garment, which you saved for an occasion
you could not imagine, and you weep night and day
to know that you were not abandoned,
that happiness saved its most extreme form
for you alone.

No, happiness is the uncle you never
knew about, who flies a single-engine plane
onto the grassy landing strip, hitchhikes
into town, and inquires at every door
until he finds you asleep midafternoon
as you so often are during the unmerciful
hours of your despair.

It comes to the monk in his cell.
It comes to the woman sweeping the street
with a birch broom, to the child
whose mother has passed out from drink.
It comes to the lover, to the dog chewing
a sock, to the pusher, to the basketmaker,
and to the clerk stacking cans of carrots
in the night.
       It even comes to the boulder
in the perpetual shade of pine barrens,
to rain falling on the open sea,
to the wineglass, weary of holding wine.

--Jane Kenyon