tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-348894422024-03-18T00:34:08.397-07:00oblationsWritings & ReadingsRon Reedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05744783679902979376noreply@blogger.comBlogger861125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34889442.post-71674728824397939582024-03-18T00:33:00.003-07:002024-03-18T00:33:19.407-07:00photo | michael pasche | carts<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifUZu1lE-naDjy7RP8Y5b7Ae9GQC1byOVXnwgbdjprGc8sBxemLeTbaxcAaRgZRiQ9nHhpq1a7BR6JEH5B8L1kQ9DM9RNkVJMNkMqptQUdwmMHHJAW2bEWCh8L4td71IbU14uoVR1l8mKRpJjmPsncDnrVgcx2hnKi-CkOTtZ1vvxWtJnPiJ5-XA/s1348/432709111_18424785724022911_1301645411921155783_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1348" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifUZu1lE-naDjy7RP8Y5b7Ae9GQC1byOVXnwgbdjprGc8sBxemLeTbaxcAaRgZRiQ9nHhpq1a7BR6JEH5B8L1kQ9DM9RNkVJMNkMqptQUdwmMHHJAW2bEWCh8L4td71IbU14uoVR1l8mKRpJjmPsncDnrVgcx2hnKi-CkOTtZ1vvxWtJnPiJ5-XA/w320-h400/432709111_18424785724022911_1301645411921155783_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Ron Reedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05744783679902979376noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34889442.post-51478116658081989282024-03-13T01:00:00.001-07:002024-03-13T01:00:00.135-07:00ides of march pencil holder<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh1hqPCi-dJWkbOjXyXtrgRtawEcZuK1ibEFVQ4pKVY-SJoC1LjIAioALelJBR0ZLce_xuJAg6ga3RLTIkyoA93cnhTw3ekHQQG1xWWnCOZxQ8NYeiNewa5htRYnUr3GyBLeEZs-6W-H9fM6sBbukaG6Q7WHiuVj0V1nESdaMEFFX_pVhzRNn3fQ/s768/370038351_6462303110527493_2427759450701598781_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="576" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh1hqPCi-dJWkbOjXyXtrgRtawEcZuK1ibEFVQ4pKVY-SJoC1LjIAioALelJBR0ZLce_xuJAg6ga3RLTIkyoA93cnhTw3ekHQQG1xWWnCOZxQ8NYeiNewa5htRYnUr3GyBLeEZs-6W-H9fM6sBbukaG6Q7WHiuVj0V1nESdaMEFFX_pVhzRNn3fQ/w300-h400/370038351_6462303110527493_2427759450701598781_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Ron Reedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05744783679902979376noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34889442.post-55430459713322342942024-01-28T19:19:00.005-08:002024-01-28T19:19:54.757-08:00the indescribable essence of vinyl<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwYL3nhVIquqS_0p3e8DpZg0rvguWPrWZsQ42cnBIVfL0aUGEuoR8QzD3hFIgfF8ArxX7UF6LzfT9H2t4CB4djxvyG00piJCHiWL7G6L7pQg4bz0HkwwM_pf26x_4EHHBSYJviSgMOXuRVl2R9YCf4CuCIQ3YScz-I4pidzSRx_LkTvwWAn_IxQg/s640/423133085_10161423005904391_7448798781443290177_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="388" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwYL3nhVIquqS_0p3e8DpZg0rvguWPrWZsQ42cnBIVfL0aUGEuoR8QzD3hFIgfF8ArxX7UF6LzfT9H2t4CB4djxvyG00piJCHiWL7G6L7pQg4bz0HkwwM_pf26x_4EHHBSYJviSgMOXuRVl2R9YCf4CuCIQ3YScz-I4pidzSRx_LkTvwWAn_IxQg/w242-h400/423133085_10161423005904391_7448798781443290177_n.jpg" width="242" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;">"Is there anything under the sun that does not have an indestructible essence?" LS</p>Ron Reedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05744783679902979376noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34889442.post-82806152873585862622024-01-26T18:33:00.001-08:002024-01-26T18:33:19.359-08:00tom waits | radio<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK5CUXpj3FgtM4HqvW1y95It0gKzb-_l7eT6OhbcvUoZ6jU8q860AmOfYwj6Q0kR6qaEEyuRJFBYCihBw0kUlz0e8Q1UnB-_mSx3klw_w9otfD17OYAQ7FYxyy7LR14v3gLrV9SBHUWwdZWKDAaH5gG0tEpmtMiyXYBU9EKOmmvhca2aiHSQ112A/s1140/421872019_866743685249118_781094954003430536_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1140" data-original-width="962" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK5CUXpj3FgtM4HqvW1y95It0gKzb-_l7eT6OhbcvUoZ6jU8q860AmOfYwj6Q0kR6qaEEyuRJFBYCihBw0kUlz0e8Q1UnB-_mSx3klw_w9otfD17OYAQ7FYxyy7LR14v3gLrV9SBHUWwdZWKDAaH5gG0tEpmtMiyXYBU9EKOmmvhca2aiHSQ112A/w338-h400/421872019_866743685249118_781094954003430536_n.jpg" width="338" /></a></div><br />When I listen to old field recordings, maybe you’ll hear a dog barking way off in the background. You realize the house it was recorded in is torn down, the dog is dead, the tape recorder is broken, the guy who made the recording died in Texas, the car out front has four flat tires, even the dirt that the house sat on is gone—probably a parking lot—but we still have this song. Takes me out when I listen to those old recordings. I put on my stuff in the house, which is always those old Alan Lomax recordings.<p></p><p>When I was first trying to decide what I wanted to do, I listened to Bob Dylan and James Brown. Those were my heroes. I listened to Wolfman Jack every night. The mighty ten-ninety. Fifty thousand watts of soul power. My dad was a radio technician during the war, and when he left the family when I was about eleven, I had this whole radio fascination. And he used to keep catalogues, and I used to build my own crystal set, and put the aerial up on the roof. And I remember making a radio on my first crystal set, and the first station I got on these little two-dollar headphones was Wolfman. And I thought I had discovered something that no one else had. I thought it was comin' in from Kansas City or Omaha, that nobody was getting this station, and nobody knew who this guy was, and nobody knew who these records were. I'd tapped into some bunker, or he was broadcasting from some rest stop on a highway thousands of miles from here, and it's only for me. He was actually broadcasting from San Ysidro near the border. What I really wanted to figure out is how do you come out of the radio yourself.</p><p><i>Photos for MAGNET by Christian Lantry</i></p>Ron Reedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05744783679902979376noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34889442.post-53208042757203995802023-12-20T01:20:00.000-08:002023-12-20T01:21:38.881-08:00Index: Christmas Readings<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF_jnERICJlZ_smbgEEpggub1OuX7hSTAERgK5r2o037bCQZeOoT_Od_q5TtJuorYmNU6t7SxgrDvOU6v4m71brt6TwWuBNVJfUm3xodkRfixbmqz-FOPYdUWnmNMlXjPC0FGWaA/s1600/picture.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="250" data-original-width="200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF_jnERICJlZ_smbgEEpggub1OuX7hSTAERgK5r2o037bCQZeOoT_Od_q5TtJuorYmNU6t7SxgrDvOU6v4m71brt6TwWuBNVJfUm3xodkRfixbmqz-FOPYdUWnmNMlXjPC0FGWaA/s400/picture.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Tim Anderson | <a href="https://oblations.blogspot.com/2018/11/tim-anderson-ivory-in-desert.html" target="_blank">Ivory in the Desert</a><br />
Tim Anderson | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2009/12/tim-anderson-re-loneliness-can-be.html">Loneliness Can Be Contagious</a><br />
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Connie Braun | <a href="https://oblations.blogspot.ca/2017/12/connie-braun-christmas-gift-from-sea.html" target="_blank">A Christmas Gift from the Sea</a><br />
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Frederick Buechner | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2006/12/buechner-annunciation.html">The Annunciation</a><br />
Frederick Buechner | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2006/12/frederick-buechner-emmanuel.html">Emmanuel</a><br />
Frederick Buechner | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2007/12/frederic-buechner-face-in-sky.html">The Face in the Sky</a><br />
Frederick Buechner | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2006/12/frederick-buechner-gabriel.html">Gabriel</a><br />
<br />
Robert Farrar Capon | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2006/12/robert-farrar-capon-advent.html">Advent</a><br />
Robert Farrar Capon | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.ca/2010/11/robert-farrar-capon-naughty-or-nice.html" target="_blank">Better Watch Out</a><br />
Robert Farrar Capon | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2010/11/robert-farrar-capon-naughty-or-nice.html">Naughty or Nice</a><br />
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Truman Capote | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2008/12/truman-capote-christmas-memory.html">A Christmas Memory</a><br />
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Tom Carson | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2007/12/tom-carson-snow-angel.html">Snow Angel</a><br />
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Nicola Colhoun | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2009/12/nicola-colhoun-creche.html">Creche</a><br />
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John F. Deane | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.ca/2013/12/john-f-deane-driving-to-midnight-mass.html" target="_blank">Driving To Midnight Mass in Dublin on Christmas Eve</a><br />
<br />
Annie Dillard | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2006/12/dillard-feast-days.html">Feast Days</a><br />
Annie Dillard | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.ca/2013/12/annie-dillard-god-in-doorway.html" target="_blank">God in t</a><a href="http://oblations.blogspot.ca/2013/12/annie-dillard-god-in-doorway.html" target="_blank">he Doorway</a><br />
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Dina Donohue | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2007/12/dina-donohue-no-room.html">No Room</a><br />
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Craig Erickson | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.ca/2010/12/craig-erickson-christmas-rant.html" target="_blank">Christmas Rant</a><br />
<div>
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John Henry Faulk | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.ca/2015/12/a-childs-christmas-in-texas-john-henry.html" target="_blank">A Child's Christmas in Texas</a><br />
<br /></div>
Lawrence Ferlinghetti | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2006/12/ferlinghetti-christ-climbed-down.html">Christ Climbed Down</a><br />
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Paul Flucke | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2009/12/paul-flucke-secret-of-gifts.html">The Secret of the Gifts</a><br />
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Steven Garber | <a href="http://www.washingtoninst.org/10603/always-winter-never-christmas/" target="_blank">Always Winter, Never Christmas</a><br />
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Rev. J.M. Gates | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.ca/2010/12/rev-jm-gates-death-might-be-your-santa.html" target="_blank">Death Might Be Your Santa Claus</a><br />
<br />
William Gibson | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2008/12/william-gibson-butterfingers-angel.html">Butterfingers Angel</a><br />
<br />
Lorenz Graham | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2015/12/every-man-heart-lay-down-lorenz-graham.html" target="_blank">Every Man Heart Lay Down</a><br />
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Wayne Harrel | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2007/12/wayne-harrel-camels-of-ancient-yore-as.html">The Camels of Ancient Yore</a><br />
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Rory Holland | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2009/12/rory-holland-frail-humanity.html">Frail Humanity</a><br />
Rory Holland | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2009/12/rory-holland-nativity.html">Nativity</a><br />
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Garrison Keillor | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2007/12/garrison-keillor-seven-principles-of.html">The Seven Principles of a Successful Christmas</a><br />
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Ron Klug | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.ca/2012/12/ron-klug-josephs-lullaby.html" target="_blank">Joseph's Lullaby</a><br />
<br />
David Kossoff | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2006/12/david-kossoff-seth.html">Seth</a><br />
David Kossoff | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2006/12/david-kossoff-shem.html">Shem</a><br />
<br />
Rudi Krause | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2006/12/rudi-krause-one-way.html">one way</a><br />
Rudi Krause | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2006/12/rudi-krause-unforeseen.html">unforeseen</a><br />
<br />
Madeleine L'Engle | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.ca/2013/12/madeleine-lengle-o-sapientia.html" target="_blank">O Sapientia</a><br />
Madeleine L'Engle | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2007/12/madeleine-lengle-tree.html">The Tree</a><br />
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Peter La Grand | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.ca/2010/12/peter-la-grand-christmas-memory.html" target="_blank">Christmas Memory</a><br />
<br />
Mike Mason | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.ca/2013/12/mike-mason-three-fools.html" target="_blank">Three Fools</a><br /><br />mehgyver | <a href="https://oblations.blogspot.com/2023/12/mehgyver-thanks-everyone.html" target="_blank">thanks everyone</a><div><br />
William Nicholoson | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2006/12/nicholson-christmas-drinks-party.html">Christmas Drinks Party</a><br />
<br />
Lance Odegard | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.ca/2010/12/lance-odegard-impossible-dream.html" target="_blank">Impossible Dream</a><br />
<br />
Richard Osler | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2006/12/richard-osler-advent-poems-2006.html">Advent Poems 2006</a><br />
Richard Osler | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2007/12/richard-osler-afterwards.html">Afterwards</a><br />
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Karl Petersen | <a href="https://oblations.blogspot.com/2019/09/karl-petersen-josephs-night-watch.html" target="_blank">Joseph's Night Watch</a><br />
<br />
Ron Reed | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2006/12/ron-reed-clay-2005.html">Clay</a><br />
Ron Reed | <a href="http://soulfoodmovies.blogspot.com/2007/12/its-wonderful-life.html">It's a Wonderful Life</a><br />
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Sheila Rosen | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.ca/2017/12/sheila-rosen-no-safe-place-thoughts.html" target="_blank">No Safe Place</a><br />
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Mike Royko | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.ca/2017/12/mike-royko-pretty-well-picked-over.html" target="_blank">Pretty Well Picked Over</a><br />
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Luci Shaw | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.ca/2012/12/luci-shaw-advent-iii.html" target="_blank">Advent III</a><br />
Luci Shaw | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2008/12/luci-shaw-december.html">December</a><br />
Luci Shaw | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2007/12/luci-shaw-madonna-and-child-with-saints.html">Madonna and Child, with Saints</a><br />
Luci Shaw | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.ca/2010/12/luci-shaw-mary-considers-her-situation.html" target="_blank">Mary Considers Her Situation</a><br />
Luci Shaw | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.ca/2012/12/luci-shaw-presents.html" target="_blank">Presents</a><br />
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Sufjan Stevens | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2006/12/sufjan-stevens-christmas-tube-socks.html">Christmas Tube Socks</a><br />
<br />Richard Tillinghast | <a href="https://oblations.blogspot.com/2023/12/richard-tillinghast-one-night-in-galilee_20.html" target="_blank">One Night in Galilee</a></div><div><br />
Diane Tucker | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.ca/2010/12/diane-tucker-advent-couplets.html" target="_blank">Advent Couplets</a><br />
Diane Tucker | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.ca/2010/12/diane-tucker-christmas-couplets.html" target="_blank">Christmas Couplets</a><br />
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Various Authors | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2006/12/jellema-petersen-lennon-mccartney-rilke.html">Joseph & Mary</a></div><div><br /></div><div>Richard Waller | <a href="https://oblations.blogspot.com/2023/12/richard-waller-engineers-christmas.html" target="_blank">Engineer's Christmas</a></div><div><br /></div><div>David Waltner-Toews | <a href="https://oblations.blogspot.com/2023/12/david-waltner-toews-if-he-were-born_20.html" target="_blank">If He Were Born Today: Christmas, 1974</a></div><div><br /></div>Ron Reedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05744783679902979376noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34889442.post-38472715048981355612023-12-20T01:17:00.002-08:002023-12-20T01:17:38.098-08:00david waltner-toews | if he were born today: christmas 1974<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">winter night in palestine</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">clean and cold as polished steel</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">arabs rest their sheep</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">among rocks and thistles</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">like a patch of scruffy spring snow</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">on the hillside</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">somewhere behind them</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">in a desert cave</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">a small fire holds the vengeant night</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">at bay</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">men and women commune with clammy handshakes</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">and guns: the bread of death</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">below the shepherds</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Israeli soldiers patrol the occupied city</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">stop to fidget at a small bar--</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">a sign at the city gate reads:</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">all arabs must register </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">with the military authorities</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">in the city of their birth</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">the shepherds, remembering the sign</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">joke about it;</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">they were born in tents</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">they do not leave their sheep</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">suddenly a rocket</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">sleek as a sacrificial blade</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">splits the belly of silence above them</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">exploding, shrieking into the streets below;</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">the streets answer with gunfire rattle</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">boots running on concrete</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">trucks</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">searchlights against the hills</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">the shepherds huddle behind a rock</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">their sheep are bleating, bleating</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">more rattle of guns</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">the bleating stops</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">lights out, motors choke into silence</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">boots stomp back to the bar</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">nervous laughter curls up like smoke</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">incense to the unspeaking</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">mask of night</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">down a cobbled alley</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">from the bar</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">in a small lean-to</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">anxious, calloused hands</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">are pushing some goats away</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">from their manger</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">nearby, on a bed of dirty straw</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">a palestinian woman groans</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">pushing with all her prayerful might</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">against the pain in her belly </span></p>Ron Reedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05744783679902979376noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34889442.post-84726857676410939322023-12-20T01:13:00.003-08:002023-12-20T01:13:52.942-08:00bill bunn | away from the manger<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">One Christmas, Linda bought the kids a plastic manger scene. She wanted the children to interact with the figures, play with the players, major and minor. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">I agreed with her. There's no better way to get into a story than being able to interact with it in some physical way. Here were all the season's big stars – the baby Christ, the angels, the shepherds, Joseph, Mary and the barnyard cast – built from durable, kid-friendly plastic.</span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">At the beginning of December, when we decorated the house for Christmas, we set up the new manger scene. But we had forgotten about the democracy of toys. In this republic, all toys – regardless of symbolic value – are created equal. And any toy may interact with any other, depending only on the elasticity of the operator’s imagination.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Understandably, Christ and cast were popular. Everyone seemed to want him around. Christ would not stay put.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">The baby Jesus ended up visiting with our Lego populace. He frequented the company of stuffed animals, despite the immense difference in scale. Another time, I found Jesus stuffed into the chimney of a dollhouse. He was helping his brother, Santa, the kids explained. I found him driving the Barbie Corvette with Barbie, down at the end of the hall.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">The rest of the cast took their cue from the baby. I saw a wise man and the donkey, helping a farmer drive a tractor in a castle. I found Mary and another wise man helping a set of Lego firemen rescue animals and medieval soldiers from a train wreck. It was as if the manger was only a pose, like a picture taken at a party that the stable cast would strike for a moment, a starting point from which they would begin.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Then, Jesus lost his head. One of our children or one of his or her friends had broken the head off the plastic Jesus. He was a toy, and the heads of toys are often removable. A child had tried removing it but ended up breaking it.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">In our hearts we were deeply disturbed. It was okay for Barbie to lose her head, or Ken to lose his, but not the Christ child. Who would do such a thing? Why not one of the shepherds? Why not Joseph? But the body was found headless, the plastic neck snapped.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">We searched for the head in the big Lego tub. In the toy boxes in people's rooms. In drawers and under beds. No head.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Who had beheaded the Christ child? This was a deliberate act. So began our crusade.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">"Who took Jesus' head?" we asked, and we heard silence. We asked the question in many different ways: calmly, urgently, sadly, happily, indifferently and with deep concern. Nothing. Or rather, everything.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Elise thought she saw it in various places throughout the house <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">(that made us suspect her). <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">May insisted she hadn’t done anything <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">(which made us suspect her). <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Ezra got tired of us asking the question and confessed <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">(which made us conclude it was him), <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">but then his story wouldn’t hold <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">(which made us suspect him). <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Each one carried shades of unshakable guilt. Linda and I, too, felt pangs of guilt. Maybe they hadn’t broken it. Maybe they were all telling the truth. The inquisition ended in failure.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">We phoned the manufacturers and asked them to ship a new Jesus. They could make no guarantees, but we hoped that his arrival might happen before Christmas. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">In the meantime, the headless Jesus was too much to look at, so my wife crazy-glued the head of a Lego person on his shoulders. The sunglassed eyes of the Lego head looked far too smug to sit on Christ's shoulders, and the head would accept different hats or helmets, all of which seemed blasphemous, but it was much better than a headless baby.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Many years earlier, Linda and I had travelled to Rome, to the Sistine Chapel, to see Michelangelo’s frescoes. I remember staring up at the roof, considering, with the rest of the mob, the space between God’s and Adam’s hands. What could that gap mean? What was Michelangelo’s thought? I think it was a practical consideration. If the two hands had touched, things would have become weird – Michelangelo’s deity might not have stayed put.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">The new Jesus arrived in a small box a few days before Christmas. Was this the Advent or the Second Coming? Once out of the packaging, he was more popular than ever. Despite our sternest warnings, he consorted regularly with all toys, regardless of their shape and size, regardless of where they were made. He obviously wasn’t going to stay in the manger, though the picture on the box suggested this might happen.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">It's time to set up our nativity scene again. I arrange the figurines on the coffee table, according to the picture on the box. As I lay Christ into his moulded manger, I realize he won't be here long. Within minutes, the last place I'll find him is in the manger. For in our house, God can be touched, so there's no telling where he might end up.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span></p>Ron Reedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05744783679902979376noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34889442.post-72004778933392734762023-12-20T00:44:00.001-08:002023-12-20T00:44:36.307-08:00richard tillinghast | one night in galilee<div>We were looking to bed down for the night,</div><div>get the flock together safe and the dogs</div><div>keeping watch. Rain had started to fall.</div><div><br /></div><div>Then the sky blazed</div><div>and we heard music--</div><div>commanding and lofty</div><div>but warm-hearted and human too.</div><div>It reached out and</div><div>found us where we lay.</div><div><br /></div><div><i>Fear not</i>, a voice said.</div><div>And out of the voice merged a figure.</div><div>He looked like a man</div><div>but we knew he wasn't.</div><div><br /></div><div>How could we welcome such a one?</div><div>Offer him goats' milk to drink?</div><div>Find place for him in our tent,</div><div>smelling as it did of tallow and long days</div><div>handling animals,</div><div>on the move for months?</div><div><br /></div><div>Before we could make up our minds</div><div>the air came alive with angels' wings--</div><div>air that a moment before had been</div><div>heavy with mud-mist and sheep funk.</div><div> </div><div>The sound of their wings</div><div>was a river at floodtide.</div><div>Their plumage dazzled our eyes,</div><div>this choir half glimpsed</div><div>singing their message</div><div>of peace on earth,</div><div>a royal family in a stable,</div><div>a baby who was a king.</div><div><br /></div><div>And when they had gone away</div><div>into heaven,</div><div>we looked at each other dumbstruck.</div><div>It was night again,</div><div>the dogs hung close and kept quiet.</div><div>Then someone said, <i>Let us go and see</i>.</div><div><br /></div>Ron Reedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05744783679902979376noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34889442.post-90012239698417009372023-12-20T00:41:00.001-08:002023-12-20T00:41:18.365-08:00richard waller | an engineer's christmas<div style="text-align: left;">I. No known species of reindeer can fly. However, there are some 300,000 species of living organisms yet to be classified. While most of these are insects and germs, this does not completely rule out flying reindeer (which only Santa has ever seen). </div><div><br /></div><div>II. There are approximately two billion children (persons under 18) in the world. However, since Santa apparently does not visit children of Muslim, Hindu, Jewish or Buddhist religions, this reduces the workload for Christmas night to 15% of the total, or 378 million (according to the Population Reference Bureau). At an average (census) rate of 3.5 children per house hold, that comes to 108 million homes, presuming that there is at least one good child in each. </div><div><br /></div><div>III. Santa has about 31 hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the different time zones and the rotation of the earth, assuming he travels east to west (which seems logical). This works out to 967.7 visits per second. This is to say that for each Christian household with a good child, Santa has around 1/1000th of a second to park the sleigh, hop out, jump down the chimney, fill the stockings, distribute the remaining presents under the tree, eat whatever snacks have been left for him, get back up the chimney, jump into the sleigh and get on to the next house. Assuming that each of these 108 million stops is evenly distributed around the earth (which, of course, we know to be false, but will accept for the purposes of our calculations), we are now talking about 0.78 miles per household; a total trip of 75.5 million miles, not counting bathroom stops or breaks. This means Santa's sleigh is moving at 650 miles per second — 3,000 times the speed of sound. For purposes of comparison, the fastest man-made vehicle, the Ulysses space probe, moves at a poky 27.4 miles per second, and a conventional reindeer can run (at best) 15 miles per hour. </div><div><br /></div><div>IV. The payload of the sleigh adds another interesting element. Assuming that each child gets nothing more than a medium sized Lego set (two pounds), the sleigh is carrying over 500 thousand tons, not counting Santa who is invariably described as overweight. On land, a conventional reindeer can pull no more than 300 pounds. Even granting that the "flying" reindeer could pull ten times the normal amount, the job can't be done with eight or even nine of them --- Santa would need 360,000 of them. This</div><div>increases the payload, not counting the weight of the sleigh, another 54,000 tons, or roughly seven times the weight of the Queen Elizabeth (the ship, not the monarch). </div><div><br /></div><div>V. 600,000 tons traveling at 650 miles per second crates enormous air resistance --- this would heat up the reindeer in the same fashion as a spacecraft re-entering the earth's atmosphere. The lead pair of reindeer would absorb 14.3 quintillion joules of energy per second each. In short, they would burst into flames almost instantaneously, exposing the reindeer behind them and creating deafening sonic booms in their wake. The entire reindeer team would be vaporized within 4.26 thousandths of a second. Santa, meanwhile, would be subjected to centrifugal forces 17,500 times greater than gravity. A 250 pound Santa (which seems ludicrously slim) would be pinned to the back of the sleigh by 4,315,000 pounds of force. </div><div><br /></div><div>VI. In conclusion, if Santa ever did deliver presents to all the good children on Christmas Eve, HE'S DEAD NOW. </div><div><br /></div>Ron Reedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05744783679902979376noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34889442.post-75295499039407446312023-12-20T00:38:00.001-08:002023-12-20T00:38:07.054-08:00mehgyver | thanks everyone<div style="text-align: left;">Well, I just had a baby....</div><div>in a barn.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, thanks everyone who brought gifts.</div><div>The gold, the perfumes.</div><div>All things babies love.</div><div><br /></div><div>Also the child who inexplicably played drums,</div><div>like, right in my face.</div><div><br /></div><div>This...</div><div>This was great.</div><div><br /></div>Ron Reedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05744783679902979376noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34889442.post-45247261150747479362023-12-19T09:54:00.005-08:002023-12-19T09:54:41.635-08:00christmas presence | set list, mon dec 18<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1t4HYUTZWSazxUS2eZXUkjXUuCIztZTgp3K9DceoNJStakPELUJZrt18LkH4cNlEEYD_i8wufHMNxjJU1xK6jEDgsFemGRd5dDsZ2O3tVW-3LDBb7BsF_dTI4k1YWk4Zxb6gNvWEspdOIQBcxfzZ_IHnYzbcOtwRyDRsFmgh-Kn89kejKLzwUkA/s500/picture-1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1t4HYUTZWSazxUS2eZXUkjXUuCIztZTgp3K9DceoNJStakPELUJZrt18LkH4cNlEEYD_i8wufHMNxjJU1xK6jEDgsFemGRd5dDsZ2O3tVW-3LDBb7BsF_dTI4k1YWk4Zxb6gNvWEspdOIQBcxfzZ_IHnYzbcOtwRyDRsFmgh-Kn89kejKLzwUkA/w400-h400/picture-1.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;">MONDAY DEC 11</div><div>singers | jenaya barker, nelson boschman, garth bowen, jenny banai</div><div>players | rick colhoun (drums), saadi d'hoore (bass), james danderfer (reeds)</div><div>readers | ron reed, shauna johannesen, chantal gallant, shona struthers</div><div><br /></div><div>ACT ONE</div><div>nelson | three ships</div><div>charles dickens | scrooge & nephew (from 'a christmas carol')</div><div>garth | hello christmas </div><div>david sedaris | <a href="https://www.thisamericanlife.org/87/a-very-special-sedaris-christmas/act-one-2" target="_blank">front row center with thaddeus bristol</a></div><div>jenny | always in the season</div><div>nelson | o come emmanuel</div><div>shauna | snowbirds</div><div>jenaya | in the bleak midwinter</div><div>tillinghast | <a href="https://oblations.blogspot.com/2023/12/richard-tillinghast-one-night-in-galilee.html" target="_blank">one night in galilee</a></div><div>garth | god rest ye</div><div><br /></div><div>ACT TWO</div><div>jenny | christmas (baby please come home)</div><div>chantal | cupid (from 'nosegate')</div><div>nelson | joy to the world </div><div>heids macdonald | <a href="https://oblations.blogspot.com/2023/12/heids-macdonald-theres-room.html" target="_blank">there's room</a></div><div>jenaya | evermore</div><div>bill bunn | away from the manger</div><div>garth | alleluia </div><div>annie dillard | feast days</div><div>jenaya | the holly and the ivy</div><div>robert louis stevenson | christmas prayer</div><div>jenny | silent night </div><div><br /></div>Ron Reedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05744783679902979376noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34889442.post-54295872124194856892023-12-19T09:43:00.002-08:002023-12-19T09:44:50.621-08:00richard tillinghast | one night in galilee<div style="text-align: left;"><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>We were looking to bed down for the night,</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>get the flock together safe and the dogs</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>keeping watch. Rain had started to fall.</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span> </span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>Then the sky blazed</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>and we heard music--</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>commanding and lofty</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>but warm-hearted and human too.</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>It reached out and</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>found us where we lay.</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span> </span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span><i>Fear not</i>, a voice said.</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>And out of the voice merged a figure.</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>He looked like a man</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>but we knew he wasn't.</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span> </span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>How could we welcome such a one?</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>Offer him goats' milk to drink?</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>Find place for him in our tent,</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>smelling as it did of tallow and long days</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>handling animals,</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>on the move for months?</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span> </span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>Before we could make up our minds</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>the air came alive with angels' wings--</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>air that a moment before had been</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>heavy with mud-mist and sheep funk.</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span><br /></span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>The sound of their wings</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>was a river at floodtide.</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>Their plumage dazzled our eyes,</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>this choir half glimpsed</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>singing their message</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>of peace on earth,</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>a royal family in a stable,</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>a baby who was a king.</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span> </span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>And when they had gone away</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>into heaven,</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>we looked at each other dumbstruck.</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>It was night again,</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>the dogs hung close and kept quiet.</span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span>Then someone said, <i>Let us go and see</i>.</span></span></div><div><br /></div></div>Ron Reedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05744783679902979376noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34889442.post-43096870540681478062023-12-18T14:58:00.002-08:002023-12-18T14:58:23.546-08:00twyla tharp | on generosity<div style="text-align: left;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwamHAMeMaIGbTJEg0779VOv2s3izvlt82JSTyQV2B0gvF-OUlwWow1q7pnVq-OeWNtILP2f6gRtcXZUwUyoV8oSJCqY_PSNGYJZTZ4ctDJWYNUmvKHMovCrJs7cH9LsVDPSRQE-zjEDxmRPsJvRu2IF9Ipc21gRxgBhtlCSLHW0wUrXcVpwaujA/s854/Screenshot%202023-12-18%20at%202.57.22%20PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="854" data-original-width="610" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwamHAMeMaIGbTJEg0779VOv2s3izvlt82JSTyQV2B0gvF-OUlwWow1q7pnVq-OeWNtILP2f6gRtcXZUwUyoV8oSJCqY_PSNGYJZTZ4ctDJWYNUmvKHMovCrJs7cH9LsVDPSRQE-zjEDxmRPsJvRu2IF9Ipc21gRxgBhtlCSLHW0wUrXcVpwaujA/w286-h400/Screenshot%202023-12-18%20at%202.57.22%20PM.png" width="286" /></a></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Generosity is luck going in the opposite direction, away from you. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">If you're generous to someone, if you do something to help them out, </div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">you are in effect making them lucky. </div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">This is important. It's like inviting yourself into a community of good fortune. </div></div>Ron Reedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05744783679902979376noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34889442.post-2669101358428268522023-12-18T00:22:00.003-08:002023-12-19T10:06:33.232-08:00christmas presence | set list, sun dec 17<div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9M5v4w8izNSJccROitv82_88Yw3H4gjLJ9B_XNeMwFq42OdsWd_RXuEFLqdy7D1N6Uwea0xlKeTVjq7nu0tDDfsqr5rjv-eyCh0BafF21hbSQW_nLPGVCFBezkTc6v4ElD7kX300ELKDYFRBSvVJplqJ5xWhUxPArYG6awpwyDaED8JkuZy6PAA/s500/picture-1.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9M5v4w8izNSJccROitv82_88Yw3H4gjLJ9B_XNeMwFq42OdsWd_RXuEFLqdy7D1N6Uwea0xlKeTVjq7nu0tDDfsqr5rjv-eyCh0BafF21hbSQW_nLPGVCFBezkTc6v4ElD7kX300ELKDYFRBSvVJplqJ5xWhUxPArYG6awpwyDaED8JkuZy6PAA/w400-h400/picture-1.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div>singers | joellel lush-tatum, leora cashe, zaac pick</div><div>players | mark bender (bass), lincoln tatum (drums), jaye krebs (piano)</div><div>readers | ron reed, heids macdonald</div><div><br /></div><div>ACT ONE</div><div>joellel | please come home for christmas </div><div>frederick buechner | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2006/12/frederick-buechner-emmanuel.html" target="_blank">emmanuel</a></div><div>zaac | maybe this christmas </div><div>leora | sleigh ride </div><div>sedaris | <a href="https://www.thisamericanlife.org/47/christmas-and-commerce/act-two-21" target="_blank">santaland diaries</a></div><div>joellel | i've got my love to keep me warm </div><div>dina donohue | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2007/12/dina-donohue-no-room.html" target="_blank">no room</a></div><div>heids macdonald | <a href="https://oblations.blogspot.com/2023/12/heids-macdonald-theres-room.html" target="_blank">there's room</a></div><div>zaac | christmas song</div><div>mike mason | <a href="https://www.mikemasonbooks.com/commotion-a-brand-new-christmas-story/" target="_blank">commotion!</a></div><div>leora | tidings of comfort and joy </div><div><br /></div><div>ACT TWO</div><div>leora | arias of peace </div><div>zaac | light under the door </div><div>annie dillard | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2013/12/annie-dillard-god-in-doorway.html" target="_blank">god in the doorway</a></div><div>joellel | who would imagine </div><div>david waltner-toews | <a href="https://oblations.blogspot.com/2023/12/david-waltner-toews-if-he-were-born.html" target="_blank">if he were born today: christmas, 1974</a></div><div>leora | finally christmas day </div><div>annie dillard | <a href="http://oblations.blogspot.com/2006/12/dillard-feast-days.html" target="_blank">feast days</a></div><div>joellel & leora | jesus, what a wonderful child </div><div>charles dickens | a christmas carol </div><div>zaac | finding christmas </div><div><br /></div></div>Ron Reedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05744783679902979376noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34889442.post-24594829575435285982023-12-18T00:20:00.001-08:002023-12-18T00:20:13.606-08:00heids macdonald | there's room<div style="text-align: left;">There’s room.</div><div>Honestly.</div><div>There’s room.</div><div>There’s room</div><div>for the uncle</div><div>that loves the gawdy decorations</div><div>and the kids running cut-out paper snowflakes along every banister, </div><div>and the teenager who is embarrassed to admit they still want to decorate the tree.</div><div>So, the cool aunt with the buzz-cut</div><div>whose wife is just as cool </div><div>inviting them to help out</div><div>is just the ticket.</div><div>There’s room for deep inhales and longer exhales, </div><div>because the spicy smell of apple pie in the oven reminds you</div><div>of mom. </div><div>And that is wonderful</div><div>and lonely</div><div>and triggering.</div><div>Because mom was complicated. And there’s room for that. Honestly. </div><div>There’s room.</div><div>There’s room</div><div>for Hanukkah candles burning in window sills</div><div>and for the cookie platter</div><div>supplied to the shift workers for whom Christmas day</div><div>is just another shift.</div><div>There’s room</div><div>For family – all sorts.</div><div>For re-uniting family:</div><div>perhaps dysfunctional but trying.</div><div>For found family:</div><div>perhaps that crew of queers who can’t go home anymore. So, they say to each other,</div><div>“There is still pumpkin pie on the menu!”</div><div>For grieving family:</div><div>Perhaps rotating cigarette breaks on the steps to the hospital, when the walls of the palliative room are closing in.</div><div>And there’s room for the words,</div><div>“I hate Christmas,”</div><div>because why does everyone die in December?</div><div>There’s room.</div><div>Honestly.</div><div>There’s room.</div><div>There’s room</div><div>for putting up the tree</div><div>the day after Halloween and leaving it</div><div>till spring. </div><div>There’s room</div><div>in the Christmas eve service</div><div>for everyone.</div><div>So church, remember that.</div><div>And there’s room</div><div>for the person that can’t darken a pew.</div><div>Afterall,</div><div>The Christ child grew into person</div><div>who had a thing or two to say about</div><div>the religious establishment’s treatment</div><div>of “the least of these.”</div><div>There’s room</div><div>for loneliness.</div><div>You are not alone in this.</div><div>There’s room</div><div>to forgive</div><div>and for not knowing how to yet.</div><div>There’s room</div><div>for the same stories told over and over:</div><div>of babes and misers and angels and red-nosed reindeer, and prophetic stars and lassoing the moon,</div><div>and poor, ordinary, occupied people...</div><div>waiting.</div><div>There’s room for mulled wine and chocolate and</div><div>Those caramel covered marshmallow things. </div><div>HONESTLY! THERE’S ROOM! </div><div>There’s room</div><div>at the table for the ones who never seem to fit. Maybe that’s you.</div><div>In which case,</div><div>there’s room for you – </div><div>along with the shepherds and stargazers</div><div>and unwed pregnant teenagers and dreamy carpenters and livestock:</div><div>all welcome when</div><div>there was no room</div><div>at the inn.</div><div>Because gathered round love</div><div>(humble and asking for nothing)</div><div>There’s room for you.</div><div>Honestly.</div><div>There’s room. </div><div><br /></div><div>*</div><div><br /></div><div><i>please do not publish, perform or distribute without permission from the author:</i></div><div><i>heids macdonald : heidsmacdonald@gmail.com</i></div>Ron Reedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05744783679902979376noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34889442.post-3527240404591260882023-12-17T23:55:00.001-08:002023-12-17T23:57:31.461-08:00david waltner-toews | if he were born today: christmas, 1974<div style="text-align: left;">winter night in palestine</div><div>clean and cold as polished steel</div><div><br /></div><div>arabs rest their sheep</div><div>among rocks and thistles</div><div>like a patch of scruffy spring snow</div><div>on the hillside</div><div><br /></div><div>somewhere behind them</div><div>in a desert cave</div><div>a small fire holds the vengeant night</div><div>at bay</div><div>men and women commune with clammy handshakes</div><div>and guns: the bread of death</div><div><br /></div><div>below the shepherds</div><div>Israeli soldiers patrol the occupied city</div><div>stop to fidget at a small bar--</div><div>a sign at the city gate reads:</div><div>all arabs must register </div><div>with the military authorities</div><div>in the city of their birth</div><div><br /></div><div>the shepherds, remembering the sign</div><div>joke about it;</div><div>they were born in tents</div><div>they do not leave their sheep</div><div><br /></div><div>suddenly a rocket</div><div>sleek as a sacrificial blade</div><div>splits the belly of silence above them</div><div>exploding, shrieking into the streets below;</div><div>the streets answer with gunfire rattle</div><div>boots running on concrete</div><div>trucks</div><div>searchlights against the hills</div><div><br /></div><div>the shepherds huddle behind a rock</div><div>their sheep are bleating, bleating</div><div><br /></div><div>more rattle of guns</div><div>the bleating stops</div><div><br /></div><div>lights out, motors choke into silence</div><div>boots stomp back to the bar</div><div>nervous laughter curls up like smoke</div><div>incense to the unspeaking</div><div>mask of night</div><div><br /></div><div>down a cobbled alley</div><div>from the bar</div><div>in a small lean-to</div><div>anxious, calloused hands</div><div>are pushing some goats away</div><div>from their manger</div><div>nearby, on a bed of dirty straw</div><div>a palestinian woman groans</div><div>pushing with all her prayerful might</div><div>against the pain in her belly</div><div><br /></div>Ron Reedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05744783679902979376noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34889442.post-34809018300676860382023-12-17T13:23:00.007-08:002023-12-17T13:25:35.719-08:00photo | ray h. mercado<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZM6cOwbqmjqIJ9TfpdlB-OulRaABOVJ5DnOBPCos2V13uOal4j3PbaV-mwv9abq9NNxafzuJYre2ILPlyUcDq7KxJZe2mDvqy0GfZxePo4Pf4IiGqiP5l6NLyLoWjmlWbMKDzKyM67bUj9gxpxCixIvyh55kSUDGzoSf0dQFKHuKUQ2kcL_8CDg/s768/411283831_1812442279168712_587958869684714630_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="768" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZM6cOwbqmjqIJ9TfpdlB-OulRaABOVJ5DnOBPCos2V13uOal4j3PbaV-mwv9abq9NNxafzuJYre2ILPlyUcDq7KxJZe2mDvqy0GfZxePo4Pf4IiGqiP5l6NLyLoWjmlWbMKDzKyM67bUj9gxpxCixIvyh55kSUDGzoSf0dQFKHuKUQ2kcL_8CDg/w400-h400/411283831_1812442279168712_587958869684714630_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://designyoutrust.com/2019/06/dark-city-lights-new-york-through-the-lens-of-ray-h-mercado/" target="_blank">ray h. mercado</a></div>Ron Reedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05744783679902979376noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34889442.post-36971559615310166822023-12-06T18:44:00.005-08:002023-12-06T18:44:32.164-08:00edward hopper | compartment c car - 1938<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTO3F9oQevCvT8Ung9Ds-XkgRjM9z0Twoti6ljV57_NtAuIYbfBbNU4IuEQEI-Nzpy11i7N0bOP7VcmczLmWIRAh9bIM3RJvY5XjEwlbFJeqknzKEWJ9Q3qtKpTnoa-m3FOUhF9r4YI2p_CaY194EIPTUi01n-tvLqNkKWkinTcYpiFn9cTf_J5A/s600/406470299_3605614676378994_8392249837040599092_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="541" data-original-width="600" height="361" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTO3F9oQevCvT8Ung9Ds-XkgRjM9z0Twoti6ljV57_NtAuIYbfBbNU4IuEQEI-Nzpy11i7N0bOP7VcmczLmWIRAh9bIM3RJvY5XjEwlbFJeqknzKEWJ9Q3qtKpTnoa-m3FOUhF9r4YI2p_CaY194EIPTUi01n-tvLqNkKWkinTcYpiFn9cTf_J5A/w400-h361/406470299_3605614676378994_8392249837040599092_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Ron Reedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05744783679902979376noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34889442.post-37599347747631172162023-10-25T05:32:00.002-07:002023-10-25T05:32:20.575-07:00angeline teay | empire of the son<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbyyCZLP3PIhhlu4gjMUfSYTLfkOo9o5TKpqIoGjWup479qpB4JQ5CqB9zmZcmi1fDdEKTlOf0k9t97RKJREVLriSQgODdJlHg-wIRqOnAncHF0FtvX8KkBUX2UbnuTZCZQDDwnIYdLC9AaeA9aqZo866iRiyJ-reoitsm2RhEPNakFueO6dmLrw/s1179/395161193_18409450675008241_679696720454577174_n-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1179" data-original-width="1179" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbyyCZLP3PIhhlu4gjMUfSYTLfkOo9o5TKpqIoGjWup479qpB4JQ5CqB9zmZcmi1fDdEKTlOf0k9t97RKJREVLriSQgODdJlHg-wIRqOnAncHF0FtvX8KkBUX2UbnuTZCZQDDwnIYdLC9AaeA9aqZo866iRiyJ-reoitsm2RhEPNakFueO6dmLrw/w400-h400/395161193_18409450675008241_679696720454577174_n-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="@angelineteay" target="_blank">@angelineteay</a></p>Ron Reedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05744783679902979376noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34889442.post-22557591348406182582023-10-05T05:11:00.004-07:002023-10-05T22:23:57.898-07:00'that thirst for homicide which habitual bicycling so commonly produces' | new york times<div style="text-align: left;"> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNiwTtqH3TIdBxYMQzPSoqZQX9xQEfBoOt1ftizXGdDKss4D6Lsljh-qQfB0LIlISt2gcjzheL1Vc7Xno7lv6dJQq1A81h5sAa0L4m0GUvyP4tMqPiL33be8-23g5oSdsCf_aTQFx_B0L9JUS-87KKSpFYHbhYhDxmpjToBXrluFyXxAIYw5_MeA/s640/385920308_10160207155727411_8892384564866232421_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="253" height="759" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNiwTtqH3TIdBxYMQzPSoqZQX9xQEfBoOt1ftizXGdDKss4D6Lsljh-qQfB0LIlISt2gcjzheL1Vc7Xno7lv6dJQq1A81h5sAa0L4m0GUvyP4tMqPiL33be8-23g5oSdsCf_aTQFx_B0L9JUS-87KKSpFYHbhYhDxmpjToBXrluFyXxAIYw5_MeA/w300-h759/385920308_10160207155727411_8892384564866232421_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_vAcTcq5r05FGOP9TIxCKZsHuAGHc7mAFe9iD8_PXF8aT0w6YibglnO_QDZ5HIRYzgDp4jOnIGU5AFD9nvYBjd8WWU9DZwTle1M6zvr_5WoQZm-lNO4V337rGETYNx3hnL2UgHu0BVnX1asKgcz07WePepDfYlT4f3tcl4YQ20SCG8ProUk2IyQ/s2386/386074389_805202804904069_1004530339916904588_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2386" data-original-width="819" height="908" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_vAcTcq5r05FGOP9TIxCKZsHuAGHc7mAFe9iD8_PXF8aT0w6YibglnO_QDZ5HIRYzgDp4jOnIGU5AFD9nvYBjd8WWU9DZwTle1M6zvr_5WoQZm-lNO4V337rGETYNx3hnL2UgHu0BVnX1asKgcz07WePepDfYlT4f3tcl4YQ20SCG8ProUk2IyQ/w312-h908/386074389_805202804904069_1004530339916904588_n.jpg" width="312" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;">new york times, 1894</p>Ron Reedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05744783679902979376noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34889442.post-20115879255595706442023-08-08T10:56:00.001-07:002023-08-08T10:56:00.138-07:00aug 8 | the feast of the holy crossing<p style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8C_LR4WjfYKFO2CTiPshPX8eDopO2OXUgbu0ElX5iaRRIGdAP6nwPxtv849kTZlIRzluMJQ7sA5w58rkDMuSq5fPs_BuX4eZH6K5eOi6opBE0OQwRPjl7GQ2wlKFiiyP5BsJ_lW2GHRn5pPFcUTIInAT-CSa7UKcfAb3pGtYA3Q1K5M2plHU/s1004/5th%20beatle.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1004" data-original-width="1002" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8C_LR4WjfYKFO2CTiPshPX8eDopO2OXUgbu0ElX5iaRRIGdAP6nwPxtv849kTZlIRzluMJQ7sA5w58rkDMuSq5fPs_BuX4eZH6K5eOi6opBE0OQwRPjl7GQ2wlKFiiyP5BsJ_lW2GHRn5pPFcUTIInAT-CSa7UKcfAb3pGtYA3Q1K5M2plHU/w399-h400/5th%20beatle.jpeg" width="399" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p><br /></p>Ron Reedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05744783679902979376noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34889442.post-34561786480601340892023-07-30T05:28:00.004-07:002023-07-30T05:28:41.760-07:00end cards<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh14BHf3NcJ3Kp_4eFh3i7qkFN38TODjrAHAkEeIpf6TDmzJagx82-qqjlvo7wYek0r-AYU4r3f_ITtMkau1wRQbBUc1rS0YxWatMW3p27qdj_ZBNBdAv-nlRQ4mWKRIwERSNySLJ8ydhdcasiBlK6JMXiaaYk9My27IwrGdc4l7_n2BCNjEqd7Qg/s1506/Screen%20Shot%202023-07-30%20at%205.26.42%20AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1506" data-original-width="1052" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh14BHf3NcJ3Kp_4eFh3i7qkFN38TODjrAHAkEeIpf6TDmzJagx82-qqjlvo7wYek0r-AYU4r3f_ITtMkau1wRQbBUc1rS0YxWatMW3p27qdj_ZBNBdAv-nlRQ4mWKRIwERSNySLJ8ydhdcasiBlK6JMXiaaYk9My27IwrGdc4l7_n2BCNjEqd7Qg/w448-h640/Screen%20Shot%202023-07-30%20at%205.26.42%20AM.png" width="448" /></a></div><br /><p>Citizen Kane / Joker</p><p><br /></p>Ron Reedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05744783679902979376noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34889442.post-86822876480345709662023-07-25T20:56:00.003-07:002023-07-25T20:56:33.853-07:00shirley jackson | response to a disappointed reader<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihv2oe5rID_Zw5oOULoysUAcF_NdeJBzI8htmu2FgY8wuw6ibA82suCyZwsO44PRbTALgdT-f2CGZJmGhHI3tHh-pSo8vh0Pt-MjCsPRda9EUL4FM-f365zse7f5hDGrH-qF7ybzrvlk6ZjDlf3O9kFsrJ1AO8EDD3Z5f_Gl3rHgZs2z0d2TkQbQ/s1456/363321957_650290280466719_7476417597536680466_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1201" data-original-width="1456" height="330" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihv2oe5rID_Zw5oOULoysUAcF_NdeJBzI8htmu2FgY8wuw6ibA82suCyZwsO44PRbTALgdT-f2CGZJmGhHI3tHh-pSo8vh0Pt-MjCsPRda9EUL4FM-f365zse7f5hDGrH-qF7ybzrvlk6ZjDlf3O9kFsrJ1AO8EDD3Z5f_Gl3rHgZs2z0d2TkQbQ/w400-h330/363321957_650290280466719_7476417597536680466_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Ron Reedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05744783679902979376noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34889442.post-9856766282463809462023-07-13T11:21:00.005-07:002023-07-13T17:26:37.420-07:00gary nay | vancouver paintings<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_tSHOAqm588T0E46I7LN8xllldyWFDbkBySvEAG4XnOf__pMrpRE9m7SLGJHlUpSsouoawOklJQlaP5IDWZ2rGsqg45AITRLXB5zgdGYta3CJf9Asce6VL1VsMF-8TICWFV9Dwkq3VTjlD3QpPh_eA94ZD-i3n-_u6C95d9lc-giJ41xZyRzp4A/s401/sunday-services.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="301" data-original-width="401" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_tSHOAqm588T0E46I7LN8xllldyWFDbkBySvEAG4XnOf__pMrpRE9m7SLGJHlUpSsouoawOklJQlaP5IDWZ2rGsqg45AITRLXB5zgdGYta3CJf9Asce6VL1VsMF-8TICWFV9Dwkq3VTjlD3QpPh_eA94ZD-i3n-_u6C95d9lc-giJ41xZyRzp4A/w400-h300/sunday-services.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;">sunday services</p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjok4wtUd_exFFbtyIw_RxZa6r01pjz_ZLsrq9v7MhdSrh6PY8gWZrTqqVJt5SvGA8Ao0e5CnB8tfOV4JQ_KoQ4BDUlmfg2UlH12ocIjawj87BIn_7mHea_R4gSZ4avaCIBlL-nrse0N6rVprDS5ZPZvZnMEZP-unyJhDc6WclQmT_hvrHSDTlTfw/s548/the-beach-store.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="548" data-original-width="411" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjok4wtUd_exFFbtyIw_RxZa6r01pjz_ZLsrq9v7MhdSrh6PY8gWZrTqqVJt5SvGA8Ao0e5CnB8tfOV4JQ_KoQ4BDUlmfg2UlH12ocIjawj87BIn_7mHea_R4gSZ4avaCIBlL-nrse0N6rVprDS5ZPZvZnMEZP-unyJhDc6WclQmT_hvrHSDTlTfw/w300-h400/the-beach-store.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;">the beach store</p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9HuFzhsivPgLrBfX8MXQpkqPCucBcHfrc0SKv7m5BMP9QvRDT_l9VtiN4T4P6Gwg-wHYFlbiJZo2qwZS3UaV-pq6cAW8eXBWCfwV-Og2GFSvUAKT-qHHMjnO39TTJcv13j1DLmNONg9rDAxnzCn1F7g5xj3CDPfxY2ygFZjpzi9dLhXZuHZMjzA/s606/border-town.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="454" data-original-width="606" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9HuFzhsivPgLrBfX8MXQpkqPCucBcHfrc0SKv7m5BMP9QvRDT_l9VtiN4T4P6Gwg-wHYFlbiJZo2qwZS3UaV-pq6cAW8eXBWCfwV-Og2GFSvUAKT-qHHMjnO39TTJcv13j1DLmNONg9rDAxnzCn1F7g5xj3CDPfxY2ygFZjpzi9dLhXZuHZMjzA/w400-h300/border-town.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;">border town</p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhubde6LXqbQU79e08XNGCn975Xf-hltbcmlObePdTWa4wVfLyCuT_6qhvlAeP-e7JlEWcFvRFrhhFFD5REECi2NbtFoU9WXJpZHtdltVfSw5Rplo77QZccAKrhz5M72LJyB8JGXsS0FYwH9brN46ir754ng6Rs6R63nt97tUE3n7pPEomqIJy3w/s640/beach-grove-store_orig-1.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="640" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhubde6LXqbQU79e08XNGCn975Xf-hltbcmlObePdTWa4wVfLyCuT_6qhvlAeP-e7JlEWcFvRFrhhFFD5REECi2NbtFoU9WXJpZHtdltVfSw5Rplo77QZccAKrhz5M72LJyB8JGXsS0FYwH9brN46ir754ng6Rs6R63nt97tUE3n7pPEomqIJy3w/w400-h200/beach-grove-store_orig-1.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">beach grove store</div><p></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6S0mFKgrMvc-3p6rfiVpzbQg4uMthA0I9kQvP0gb3wumHcXQ1ctjDuJbgkLWuGf9HfC8W3CvjtzR4S7G7ue3ewslwLmMgaLe-NvHa3uqqBvw_pPAsGhTJiOYrkr_EeS-aerqMZwo8rT7cpcjhBqcR8xZxRtG01JDQxuFw6NDtd-Lisc12h4UecQ/s858/Screen%20Shot%202023-07-13%20at%2011.01.01%20AM.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="646" data-original-width="858" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6S0mFKgrMvc-3p6rfiVpzbQg4uMthA0I9kQvP0gb3wumHcXQ1ctjDuJbgkLWuGf9HfC8W3CvjtzR4S7G7ue3ewslwLmMgaLe-NvHa3uqqBvw_pPAsGhTJiOYrkr_EeS-aerqMZwo8rT7cpcjhBqcR8xZxRtG01JDQxuFw6NDtd-Lisc12h4UecQ/w400-h301/Screen%20Shot%202023-07-13%20at%2011.01.01%20AM.png" width="400" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">morning motel</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibAAmQvPuRdL8QWVbxrunpj7JAbmhaTOuTEQRAMdaEm78yduExtMaY-8u6oam2FfKOuc9awYQRgf06sLTECF36Oxoq2pe6u60Bm9AVg765wye9S_F9-YbUOMW5Z8FEtKjKYIx-1S-HC_Qof-0pN4xkZ_RHK4MdDicHhxdAvt29VcSHgWoMP2i1pw/s629/a-night-at-the-nat_1.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="472" data-original-width="629" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibAAmQvPuRdL8QWVbxrunpj7JAbmhaTOuTEQRAMdaEm78yduExtMaY-8u6oam2FfKOuc9awYQRgf06sLTECF36Oxoq2pe6u60Bm9AVg765wye9S_F9-YbUOMW5Z8FEtKjKYIx-1S-HC_Qof-0pN4xkZ_RHK4MdDicHhxdAvt29VcSHgWoMP2i1pw/w400-h300/a-night-at-the-nat_1.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">my night at the nat</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvMnClZU5EscqZiIvq2KnHZCHj_1fAzfNQbFSb3o51nTbIs_wn3Z1_KHlSw1mYltDkvAvpZ7TV2nBNToN8edv1yR2Lt98mEwMhI0in51fb_AOWvyJsh9ZYc16Siy4Kg0TJtGvxhIVH8bY1mp34aUwiIGBYDjfvqK9z2M7LWKbtVeugNMo8v9B9kw/s411/985605.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="411" data-original-width="308" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvMnClZU5EscqZiIvq2KnHZCHj_1fAzfNQbFSb3o51nTbIs_wn3Z1_KHlSw1mYltDkvAvpZ7TV2nBNToN8edv1yR2Lt98mEwMhI0in51fb_AOWvyJsh9ZYc16Siy4Kg0TJtGvxhIVH8bY1mp34aUwiIGBYDjfvqK9z2M7LWKbtVeugNMo8v9B9kw/w300-h400/985605.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">real real gone</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB3pEoAV4d0-NF7GOrKd0NNBnM5h32hRZZg2iHK-PX4TD_bGTOevWZmmKUfvtczLCYJJK0upeKag1kzL0vXuj5u3ef3s-0BDWI0P9ZtorQS6QfxMmZPNzqhvlVps6W3nvs8tlDfw-td2f8jYMT8EouZjOgbykrjdEI49yJ0_lGwqOgcJDWgjTNsg/s444/2197498.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="444" data-original-width="333" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB3pEoAV4d0-NF7GOrKd0NNBnM5h32hRZZg2iHK-PX4TD_bGTOevWZmmKUfvtczLCYJJK0upeKag1kzL0vXuj5u3ef3s-0BDWI0P9ZtorQS6QfxMmZPNzqhvlVps6W3nvs8tlDfw-td2f8jYMT8EouZjOgbykrjdEI49yJ0_lGwqOgcJDWgjTNsg/w300-h400/2197498.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">reflections</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbZCnsSP-Ff7Y0x5O2gAvuuqD7Zrp4L0kVhbF2uBj7XQNeF7FvDBEje3sPWHir_SkMyYfVhKqBRfaOBxQZkDGwaDwStjTXnabNdDXa_Bh0b8xG-8GsRbIKEMNe1eDXrDU9X3LrR1Dx59O0iq4Fees8556Am8d2_7BqO8_c7ulJQo37KL6iJltZvg/s551/img-0057.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="413" data-original-width="551" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbZCnsSP-Ff7Y0x5O2gAvuuqD7Zrp4L0kVhbF2uBj7XQNeF7FvDBEje3sPWHir_SkMyYfVhKqBRfaOBxQZkDGwaDwStjTXnabNdDXa_Bh0b8xG-8GsRbIKEMNe1eDXrDU9X3LrR1Dx59O0iq4Fees8556Am8d2_7BqO8_c7ulJQo37KL6iJltZvg/w400-h300/img-0057.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">on the drive</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPKMCo9iDVLXyb_6EWl1LVlj2o3xYKAK_FNusISyzoniUtUdV83uhTLQP8qsHJnBZZClnGEc6A5XMMtoq0drKm5nZcz_DJxWZ2mhn-HD5iT_4cjFbtVLQl8UaF454PgRIW1-17VLY5xKdEUWlEPMe6RJKuaHIFuYLqSkPe2TIuJBDh4a-K6S8XCw/s516/it-s-just-lunch.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="387" data-original-width="516" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPKMCo9iDVLXyb_6EWl1LVlj2o3xYKAK_FNusISyzoniUtUdV83uhTLQP8qsHJnBZZClnGEc6A5XMMtoq0drKm5nZcz_DJxWZ2mhn-HD5iT_4cjFbtVLQl8UaF454PgRIW1-17VLY5xKdEUWlEPMe6RJKuaHIFuYLqSkPe2TIuJBDh4a-K6S8XCw/w400-h300/it-s-just-lunch.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">it's just lunch</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>all paintings by gary nay</i></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>available at his <a href="https://www.gnayart.com/shop.html" target="_blank">website</a> </i></div><div><br /></div></div>Ron Reedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05744783679902979376noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34889442.post-41138731140567947892023-07-13T02:09:00.004-07:002023-07-13T02:09:33.093-07:00ishiuchi miyako : postwar shadows <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyisF5Vya4Clxa5Ym-Mc6UCf8r9TUn-JC2dX0_mgH2W2AzSvVBLHNGawiARwPXDaPCDhDynix7TcldlxAKahKq9uk3G1BjN9HD6u74jTjlvzUFi6H4u_6Babsj0y6xZjiAxee1LpPul5ap_C7uBSeXVWRL7JmYuemvEVAe6MVGqwV8bqxXSUUdBw/s1400/357809330_295056046414379_5778633630198823377_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1147" data-original-width="1400" height="328" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyisF5Vya4Clxa5Ym-Mc6UCf8r9TUn-JC2dX0_mgH2W2AzSvVBLHNGawiARwPXDaPCDhDynix7TcldlxAKahKq9uk3G1BjN9HD6u74jTjlvzUFi6H4u_6Babsj0y6xZjiAxee1LpPul5ap_C7uBSeXVWRL7JmYuemvEVAe6MVGqwV8bqxXSUUdBw/w400-h328/357809330_295056046414379_5778633630198823377_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2MERQnyuQ03YXr3UjbgijjYY-T767xgTaSRWZjeStBSSdKyVOGKvgpHkHimBw5Yv2avGIvhfD6jodOHudgTew4ZavNJy5jD15lFDLoabZa43DgLJr7C7agQCFEbrV_-WYMORh5szhB26Ej4_JunP2PzkYAJfAT8xIHPOOv4N_eKEXK4hPzYQJdA/s1561/357771584_295056003081050_4985648310687351692_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1561" data-original-width="1000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2MERQnyuQ03YXr3UjbgijjYY-T767xgTaSRWZjeStBSSdKyVOGKvgpHkHimBw5Yv2avGIvhfD6jodOHudgTew4ZavNJy5jD15lFDLoabZa43DgLJr7C7agQCFEbrV_-WYMORh5szhB26Ej4_JunP2PzkYAJfAT8xIHPOOv4N_eKEXK4hPzYQJdA/w410-h640/357771584_295056003081050_4985648310687351692_n.jpg" width="410" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhXfyF40_71q3nXDRuBUmGVQ1yXUzpGkzHBpv5PHTYa2aI06CvOTLfkPS-tRR1tL_vIzJjCcvQhXE2RsH8fwSTTjlN9zHZLL4Eyqov62EqYfCcKUDPzDlABppb9WjPQyL1PbuadU4nahrPb42Dzuc_uJdYNbWGPY2tTERtS3AuShO6n20WO8qCnQ/s1400/357767448_295056026414381_5042671294039624669_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1142" data-original-width="1400" height="326" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhXfyF40_71q3nXDRuBUmGVQ1yXUzpGkzHBpv5PHTYa2aI06CvOTLfkPS-tRR1tL_vIzJjCcvQhXE2RsH8fwSTTjlN9zHZLL4Eyqov62EqYfCcKUDPzDlABppb9WjPQyL1PbuadU4nahrPb42Dzuc_uJdYNbWGPY2tTERtS3AuShO6n20WO8qCnQ/w400-h326/357767448_295056026414381_5042671294039624669_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlCoxr5DO8UCwxcOcEXX2b_4TAuhoOkmg02QFZJRKMLMW500UnHyfLv2LThnkuRmYz5oACnZ_kUfOp-1aGWy1AD06kCbnpFe5SGaUtZn_dx32FWlB7hrZxirVPR1DUSMQAFZhbBKGk3hb0CjkU4m5lvdmpHBkk2MGIDQ_0KdM82vsllQQLw5davA/s1400/357754152_295056126414371_2376543943127088462_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="957" data-original-width="1400" height="274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlCoxr5DO8UCwxcOcEXX2b_4TAuhoOkmg02QFZJRKMLMW500UnHyfLv2LThnkuRmYz5oACnZ_kUfOp-1aGWy1AD06kCbnpFe5SGaUtZn_dx32FWlB7hrZxirVPR1DUSMQAFZhbBKGk3hb0CjkU4m5lvdmpHBkk2MGIDQ_0KdM82vsllQQLw5davA/w400-h274/357754152_295056126414371_2376543943127088462_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCW4ozxNpsQkXQnc16Qdu2QO4511YzQvW1k7GlR3xG0xVQ2H69CsMySJxjewJQyrQ344Tmpk_RgaCD11gf0wVERsPm8Rrb3DtaTgocNDVm1Don-j96ClHlk7JF1A1SLOaRZAjtSLExa9oPwxdxJOURJMP5KHm2Lm4JLAqXvpYM9jAu_df1LprAJQ/s1200/357794662_295056086414375_7194797438418228912_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="878" data-original-width="1200" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCW4ozxNpsQkXQnc16Qdu2QO4511YzQvW1k7GlR3xG0xVQ2H69CsMySJxjewJQyrQ344Tmpk_RgaCD11gf0wVERsPm8Rrb3DtaTgocNDVm1Don-j96ClHlk7JF1A1SLOaRZAjtSLExa9oPwxdxJOURJMP5KHm2Lm4JLAqXvpYM9jAu_df1LprAJQ/w400-h293/357794662_295056086414375_7194797438418228912_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p>Ron Reedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05744783679902979376noreply@blogger.com