Meri's Musings

Things that give me JOY Imagining a world  where everyone  has fresh clean water enough food to eat Someone to love and laugh with Sunshine as well as clouds (and enough rain for renewal) A place to admire the grandeur of nature and perhaps feel a little small. . . . Somewhere they can feel like a star and experience a few miracles along the way. What spells JOY for you? 1. do a post that tells and shows us what gives you joy. 2. Capture the URL of the specific post and paste it into the Mr. Linky box along with your name. 3. Then click the NEXT box (or the link) to choose an image from the post to hook to Mr. Linky's list so that people are enticed to visit your blog. If you just can't get it to work, send me the info and I'll try to link it for you. 4. Visit other players -- as many as possible -- and let their joy infect you. Leave them a comment, because everyo...

May your days be filled with love, Your heart with peace, May you sow seeds of joy, And may you always have a “Meri” Christmas.

I got a jolt of JOY from going to ZOO LIGHTS with Gavin, Brendan, Katie and of course the half-pint Logan. Uncle Gavin took stroller duty  so Brendan and Katie could take photos. (Danielle had to work, so she was left out.) Logan had a ride on a camel with Mom a ride on a snarling tiger with great big teeth (Dad was by his side, device in hand) and a ride on a prancing horse He also did more than his share of mugging for the camera. He loves being the center of attention.  Mostly, I’ll let the images speak for themselves. and then there's my favorite just because it's a light play shot So what gave you JOY this week? Fill us up to the brim. 1. do a post that tells and shows us what gives you joy. 2. Capture the URL of the specific post and paste it into the Mr. Linky box along with your name. 3. Then click the NEXT box (or the link) to choose an i...

Hi Everyone – It’s the gift-giving season so I thought I’d pass along A wonderful gift from FinallyMe.com. If you go H E R E , you can download mp3 files of Christmas music by Danielle Egnew and be inspired and uplifted  as you go through  The Holly-Daze.

I’ve experienced much joy honoring the Virgin With many of you over the first 12 days of December In going through my photo collection and being flooded bunches of great memories So what gave you JOY this week? Pour some in our cups! 1. do a post that tells and shows us what gives you joy. 2. Capture the URL of the specific post and paste it into the Mr. Linky box along with your name. 3. Then click the NEXT box (or the link) to choose an image from the post to hook to Mr. Linky's list so that people are enticed to visit your blog. If you just can't get it to work, send me the info and I'll try to link it for you. 4. Visit other players -- as many as possible -- and let their joy infect you. Leave them a comment, because everyone enJOYS getting positive feedback. Let's start an epidemic of joy!

I read a passage in a book not long ago  that said one of most painful kinds of marriage  is one in which your partner refuses  to fully commit his (or her) heart.  I can vouch for that. For love to grow and flourish,  the author said,  the exit door has to close.  People can't grow within a relationship  if one partner is clinging to the thought  that somewhere out there,  there might be someone better.  If that partner secretly searches  for a better deal, all the while taking refuge  in the comfort of the marriage, the relationship can't  -- and probably shouldn't -- endure. It takes a grown up to make  a commitment to fidelity,  to making one's Beloved "the love of a lifetime," to the notion that closing the door  to other potential partners opens up a b ig space  in the soul for a whole-hearted connection.  Let'...

I don’t have a goal, because existence has no goal. It simply is, flowering, blossoming, dancing – But don’t ask why. Just an overflow of energy For no reason at all. I am with existence.    - Baghwan Shree Rajneesh (1931 – 1990)

Today, I thought that I’d give you  a little peek at my poetry volume. Here’s the poem that gave it its name. Calypso Red She silently sashays from the rumpled bed, little rivers running sticky down her legs. Her feet caress the carpet, pianissimo, the sound of rain so shy it's not yet saying hello to the roof. She holds her breath a  moment, just to listen to him breathe. And just because she can, she inhales his scent, that tangy musk she'd pick out even if the laundry cart were filled with T-shirts from a dozen different men.  She marvels at how quickly he succumbed to sleep when she's electrified.  She shuts the bathroom door Just so, easing it against the frame with infinite care, holding the knob in her hand and rotating it ever so gently until she feels the tongue slip into waiting lips and linger there. From the well of silence, she pulls up a bucket of light, so she can ...