Recent changes to this wiki:

diff --git a/posts/Gratitide_2.mdwn b/posts/Gratitide_2.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..db9ba46
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Gratitide_2.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+When I gave her a mid day walk just now, out in the blue chill, Brazen at first thought she was just getting a quick poop and pee stop, and looked resigned to going back early.  I fell in mud on the King College grounds, starting to take a path down to the live oak tree, but changed course when my hat and glasses hit the ground behind my head.  Picking up "hide" I decided to try through a different patch of mud, and found my way around the pond, with Brazen at first at my heels.  But I told her to run and have fun, and moments later, she took off chasing the breeze and skipping her paws, so merry.  We circled the pond all the way, which I have actually never done before, and I felt a sense of gratitude from my pup for the length of walk, which always seems to be more of a human decision.  Back home my blood is still pumping and my cheeks are cool.  Glad the fall was so easy, almost something that I would have chosen, entirely pain free, the only issue, mud on clean clothes.

diff --git a/posts/Gratitide.mdwn b/posts/Gratitide.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c58886b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Gratitide.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+I don't 
+
+always realize
+
+what a wonderful life
+
+I have
+
+until I really look down
+
+at my own two feet.

diff --git a/posts/Larger_Problem.mdwn b/posts/Larger_Problem.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3559144
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Larger_Problem.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,15 @@
+This morning I read on page 2A in the Bristol Herald Courier that a LGBTQ support group meets ever Thursday at 5:30PM in the Crisis Center on the Virginia side.  So I made a mental note to attend.  As the day progressed, I decided this group has the capacity to serve me as a place to go and make allies, friends, and connections which is the huge gap that exists for me and has lead to my depressive spell.  
+
+What a wonderful, hopeful thing.  I thought to myself, driving downtown early and browsing shops.  This could be all that I need.  It could be a place for me to meet in community with other people, no matter who they are, no matter their sexuality.  This could be magical, because it could be a place for me to go and make friends.  I am not seeking a coming out party today, or a coming of age experience.  But my looking for allies seemed not a too big ask.
+
+When I parked the car, fifteen minutes early, I noticed all the lights seemed to be out, and the building looked to be under construction.  I am not the type of person to give up easily, though, so I called and texted the Office number for the Crisis Center.  No response.  As darkness fell, I waited for 5:30, asked a man walking by.  Nothing.  I then went to the library to look quickly at a newspaper.  Maybe I misread it, I thought.  But I found it in the newspaper.  
+
+I didn't want to come in late but I then knocked on the back door.   Discouraged, I started to leave for home, when a truck pulled up.  A man said he was on the board and forgot they were meeting somewhere else tonight.  He informed me that was the only meeting scheduled.  So I went home.  
+
+It would have been nice if there was a support group.  I really could use one, and I would like to hold others in support who might feel vulnerable in these times with a Trump presidency and however that is affecting their right to love and be open about their orientation.  
+
+I do not blame anyone for the misprinting in the newspaper.  I wrote the Crisis Center to see what's up, and have not heard back yet.  It clearly was a mistake.  I just feel a big loss in terms of my hopes for community.  A lot of people are feeling isolated in these days.  May they be well.  May they be healthy and strong.  May they be happy and safe.  May they be relieved of their suffering and the reason for their suffering.  May they be filled with compassion.
+
+Maggie Hess
+
+maggiemargarethess@gmail.com

diff --git a/posts/Another_Way_of_Saying_the_Same_thing.mdwn b/posts/Another_Way_of_Saying_the_Same_thing.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..422281a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Another_Way_of_Saying_the_Same_thing.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,8 @@
+I needed a friend.
+
+You needed me to be a friend.  
+
+You needed a friend.
+
+I needed you to be a friend.
+

diff --git a/posts/Leaves.mdwn b/posts/Leaves.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1da5772
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Leaves.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,6 @@
+the leaf blushed
+<br>the other leaves reddened</br>
+
+the leaf fell
+<br>the other leaves swooped down</br>
+[[!img d.jpg align="right" size="500x" alt=""]]

attachment upload
diff --git a/posts/Leaves/d.jpg b/posts/Leaves/d.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..eae8ef2
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Leaves/d.jpg differ

diff --git a/posts/talking_in_an_empowered_way.mdwn b/posts/talking_in_an_empowered_way.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f50fbf3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/talking_in_an_empowered_way.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+'Empowerment, good for everyone.'  Maybe it should be an advertisement on a billboard?  But I have been thinking about how often my personal depression can be off-putting for some people who say it is dis-empowering.  It didn't happen recently that someone said that, but I guess this is evidence that I ruminate a lot.  When people have set backs, disadvantages, and limitations we often want for someone to talk about it with.  That person might be a therapist, but if we sometimes want to share the burden with a friend of family member too.  I recently talked about my depression with both parents, as example.  Once I knew someone who told me his wife did something horrible to him, but many people do not believe his side of the story.  I felt he could have defended himself more, and I think that is how some of my friends used to think I talked, as someone who self deprecated instead of speaking with pride.  I believe empowerment is the ultimate goal, and defense of self becomes an inevitable part of that.  I believe white privilege exists all over, and some people have traits that they cannot mask or do anything about, that much of the world treats them differently because of and that others like me and other white people need to recognize white privilege.  Poverty can be dis-empowering too, like we who experience the lack of money between paychecks (most people) don't want to always have to explain why we do things the way we do.  And of course, women are disadvantaged in so many ways.  And LGBTQ folk especially in these times.  There are a lot of people groups that I am neglecting here.  I don't mean for this to be a perfect essay.  Anyway, I have heard people say things on facebook statuses, back when I had an account, that sounded like "if you just let people walk all over you, you deserve to be mistreated.  You have to stand up for yourself."  And when I hear this expressed, it bugs me bad.  Nobody ever self empowered as response to a jerk ass facebook status.  Nobody ever became cool or rich or loved or popular in a flash when they read it on facebook.  When I was a senior at Berea, I experienced so many people picking up from limited means and making something of it, and that felt to me like such a wonderful form of empowerment.  I love empowerment, but it is not right or cool or good to blame somebody because they don't have their stuff figured out just yet.  
+
+So don't listen to the jerks.  Give yourself a hug.  Love yourself.  How others think of you will either fall into place or it won't.  Let you be the boss of you and in the process the world will be happier and healthier and more beautiful.  

diff --git a/posts/Skimming_.mdwn b/posts/Skimming_.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f108164
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Skimming_.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,27 @@
+Skimming through audio books this morning.
+
+I lose track of where the line originates:
+
+"We wake sleepy,
+
+spend the day trying to remember 
+
+what we are doing,
+
+grow bored in the evening,
+
+and stay up late worrying,
+
+only to wake sleepy."
+
+Is it ethical to steal this quote
+
+to use in a poem
+
+after it nags at me all day
+
+growing more and more evident.
+
+Is it just me,
+
+or maybe it really is the human condition?

diff --git a/posts/Thanks__44___but.mdwn b/posts/Thanks__44___but.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..53e4bd4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Thanks__44___but.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+Somebody has been ordering Cosmopolitan Magazine for me for over a year now.   Not that I have kept track, but it really feels like it's been a long time, and every magazine ends up in the trash without being glanced at or even hardly smelled.  It is a peculiar gift.  I never new how to interpret it.  I just know I don't want the magazine.  Maybe save some money this year and cancel my subscription?  
+
+[[!img 53d514f124169_-_khloe-kardashian-cosmopolitan-magazine-cover-february-2014.jpg align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]

attachment upload
diff --git a/posts/Thanks__44___but/53d514f124169_-_khloe-kardashian-cosmopolitan-magazine-cover-february-2014.jpg b/posts/Thanks__44___but/53d514f124169_-_khloe-kardashian-cosmopolitan-magazine-cover-february-2014.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9116cdc
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Thanks__44___but/53d514f124169_-_khloe-kardashian-cosmopolitan-magazine-cover-february-2014.jpg differ

diff --git a/posts/Something_Other_than_the_Sun.mdwn b/posts/Something_Other_than_the_Sun.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cc0f40d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Something_Other_than_the_Sun.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,17 @@
+I noticed that it has been 6 days since I reported or posted a poem on this blog.  I probably should have kept at it a little more, and I am sorry to my readers.  Tobin's passing was a very sad thing, and of course I cried.  I really do believe he is better off in the Happy Hunting ground.  I am willing to say that, even if it makes some eyes role.  
+
+I am looking forward to Thanksgiving, though I think we are staying put this year, instead of going to the big family or friends gatherings we were invited to.  
+
+Mom always said Tobin was the sun, the center of her galaxy.  We are lucky to still have Brazen, perhaps a little moon orbiting.  And Mazel Tov the cat thinks she is the actual center of the universe, whatever that is called.  I'm pretty sure no one has found an actual center of the universe, scientifically speaking.  But good luck convincing a cat.
+
+I feel I am in the clunky place of trying to explain the past six days, or writing about anything, with so much time having past.
+
+I finished the current available episodes of Shameless, while the skies were pretty dark most of the time.  I had told my new therapist something about how swimming is the best thing I can do for my mental health and watching TV is the activity that makes me more inclined towards depression.  I find myself with more TV going on on cloudy days.  On cloudy days, swimming also is less appealing.  
+
+This morning before I opened my eyes, I told myself I should think about swimming anyway, as a way to nip the depression in the bud prior to it even being an issue.  I currently feel fine.  I know swimming always improves me.  So I am trying to work my way to the pool, and the morning thought will hopefully get me there.
+
+I always have liked Thanksgiving the most of all the holidays, so it will be good to be in a good temperament for it.  
+
+In my next post I am considering writing a how to guide to a stand out resume.  I apparently am really good at that, even though I am paused in terms of working because of disability.  
+
+[[!img mazel_tov.jpeg align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]

attachment upload
diff --git a/posts/Something_Other_than_the_Sun/mazel_tov.jpeg b/posts/Something_Other_than_the_Sun/mazel_tov.jpeg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dce4ba1
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Something_Other_than_the_Sun/mazel_tov.jpeg differ

diff --git a/posts/Video_link.mdwn b/posts/Video_link.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..952746d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Video_link.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+https://youtu.be/Q-S0ObKqQtc
+
+Follow the link for a video of our two dogs playing together in 2014.  

diff --git a/posts/Old_Dog.mdwn b/posts/Old_Dog.mdwn
index 5391060..a34878b 100644
--- a/posts/Old_Dog.mdwn
+++ b/posts/Old_Dog.mdwn
@@ -21,3 +21,9 @@ November 7, 2018
 
 
 [[!img blendingintoscenery.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]
+
+
+[[!img DSCF5058.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]
+[[!img DSCN3028.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]
+[[!img IMG_0476.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]
+[[!img P1010504.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]

attachment upload
diff --git a/posts/Old_Dog/DSCF5058.JPG b/posts/Old_Dog/DSCF5058.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..41dedbc
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Old_Dog/DSCF5058.JPG differ
diff --git a/posts/Old_Dog/DSCN3028.JPG b/posts/Old_Dog/DSCN3028.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ccb3626
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Old_Dog/DSCN3028.JPG differ
diff --git a/posts/Old_Dog/IMG_0476.JPG b/posts/Old_Dog/IMG_0476.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3081af6
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Old_Dog/IMG_0476.JPG differ
diff --git a/posts/Old_Dog/P1010504.JPG b/posts/Old_Dog/P1010504.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ec81065
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Old_Dog/P1010504.JPG differ

diff --git a/posts/Old_Dog.mdwn b/posts/Old_Dog.mdwn
index e4be181..5391060 100644
--- a/posts/Old_Dog.mdwn
+++ b/posts/Old_Dog.mdwn
@@ -18,3 +18,6 @@ November 7, 2018
 
 
 [[!img DSCF1513.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]
+
+
+[[!img blendingintoscenery.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]

attachment upload
diff --git a/posts/Old_Dog/blendingintoscenery.JPG b/posts/Old_Dog/blendingintoscenery.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..353ab19
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Old_Dog/blendingintoscenery.JPG differ

diff --git a/posts/Old_Dog.mdwn b/posts/Old_Dog.mdwn
index b044d1a..e4be181 100644
--- a/posts/Old_Dog.mdwn
+++ b/posts/Old_Dog.mdwn
@@ -15,3 +15,6 @@ November 7, 2018
 [[!img tobinhappy.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]
 [[!img tobinhead.jpg align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]
 [[!img 13.art.dog.jpg align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]
+
+
+[[!img DSCF1513.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]

attachment upload
diff --git a/posts/Old_Dog/2__40__1__41__.jpg b/posts/Old_Dog/2__40__1__41__.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..99d120f
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Old_Dog/2__40__1__41__.jpg differ
diff --git a/posts/Old_Dog/DSCF1513.JPG b/posts/Old_Dog/DSCF1513.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1c47b22
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Old_Dog/DSCF1513.JPG differ

diff --git a/posts/Old_Dog.mdwn b/posts/Old_Dog.mdwn
index 4b6cd53..b044d1a 100644
--- a/posts/Old_Dog.mdwn
+++ b/posts/Old_Dog.mdwn
@@ -14,5 +14,4 @@ November 7, 2018
 [[!img tobingoestothelibrary.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]
 [[!img tobinhappy.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]
 [[!img tobinhead.jpg align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]
-[[!img tobinmead.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]
 [[!img 13.art.dog.jpg align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]

diff --git a/posts/Old_Dog.mdwn b/posts/Old_Dog.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4b6cd53
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Old_Dog.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,18 @@
+Tobin would have been 105.  He had a stroke and we had to put him down.  He is in the Happy Hunting Ground. 
+
+RIP Tobin
+November 7, 2018
+
+
+
+[[!img tobinatwrk.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]
+
+
+[[!img tobingoesonasnowyicycalk.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]
+
+
+[[!img tobingoestothelibrary.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]
+[[!img tobinhappy.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]
+[[!img tobinhead.jpg align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]
+[[!img tobinmead.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]
+[[!img 13.art.dog.jpg align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]

attachment upload
diff --git a/posts/Old_Dog/13.art.dog.jpg b/posts/Old_Dog/13.art.dog.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..27f513e
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Old_Dog/13.art.dog.jpg differ
diff --git a/posts/Old_Dog/tobinatwrk.JPG b/posts/Old_Dog/tobinatwrk.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1ca2a86
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Old_Dog/tobinatwrk.JPG differ
diff --git a/posts/Old_Dog/tobingoesonasnowyicycalk.JPG b/posts/Old_Dog/tobingoesonasnowyicycalk.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7c4ed7b
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Old_Dog/tobingoesonasnowyicycalk.JPG differ
diff --git a/posts/Old_Dog/tobingoestothelibrary.JPG b/posts/Old_Dog/tobingoestothelibrary.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c5ed888
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Old_Dog/tobingoestothelibrary.JPG differ
diff --git a/posts/Old_Dog/tobinhappy.JPG b/posts/Old_Dog/tobinhappy.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..952c0b8
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Old_Dog/tobinhappy.JPG differ
diff --git a/posts/Old_Dog/tobinhead.jpg b/posts/Old_Dog/tobinhead.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..48e8242
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Old_Dog/tobinhead.jpg differ
diff --git a/posts/Old_Dog/tobinmead.JPG b/posts/Old_Dog/tobinmead.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..952c0b8
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Old_Dog/tobinmead.JPG differ

diff --git a/posts/Happy_Hunting_Ground.mdwn b/posts/Happy_Hunting_Ground.mdwn
index 869fe66..fd9fbf3 100644
--- a/posts/Happy_Hunting_Ground.mdwn
+++ b/posts/Happy_Hunting_Ground.mdwn
@@ -28,3 +28,6 @@ Tobin Swimming
 <br>Tobin has found his sunny spot in a deep hole in the water.</br>
 <br>Round and around he is swimming.</br>
 
+
+
+[[!img tobinswimming.jpg align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]

diff --git a/posts/Happy_Hunting_Ground.mdwn b/posts/Happy_Hunting_Ground.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..869fe66
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Happy_Hunting_Ground.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,30 @@
+Tobin Swimming
+
+<br>Some say seven dog years are held inside a human year.</br>
+<br>Maybe they travel seven times as far.</br>
+<br>Tobin is 15 years old and he is very old.</br>
+<br>But Tobin still has his puppy brain.</br>
+<br>Every day he lifts his body up in the morning with such effort.</br>
+<br>But then back in the house he must feel the music in his feet.</br>
+<br>He taps his paws a certain beat, every morning Tobin dances.</br>
+<br>Round the kitchen table.</br>
+<br>He takes the biscuit we offer, throws it up into the air, and catches it with a grin.</br>
+<br>He laughs in the face of old age!</br>
+
+<br>He doesn’t have to suffer, no, not all the time.</br>
+<br>And some of the time he feels his oats more than the rest of us.</br>
+<br>And not just dancing.</br>
+<br>Sometimes Tobin wanders away into the distance.</br>
+<br>Mom says he goes down to the lingerie store down town.</br>
+<br>He might stop on his way home to grab a few discarded pizza crusts.</br>
+<br>Or to roll awful!  Ew!  </br>
+
+<br>He thinks awful smells quite pleasant.  </br>
+<br>So he comes home smelling like the awful and if we aren’t careful I goes and rolls on my bed.</br>
+<br>We take him on walks in the beautiful country side.</br>
+<br>Strolling along on this path by a creek marked by white water and waterfalls. </br> 
+<br>We get caught up in whimsical thoughts about the smells.</br>
+<br>Our little dog Brazen is poking her head inside some drain pipe. </br>
+<br>Tobin has found his sunny spot in a deep hole in the water.</br>
+<br>Round and around he is swimming.</br>
+

attachment upload
diff --git a/posts/Happy_Hunting_Ground/tobinswimming.jpg b/posts/Happy_Hunting_Ground/tobinswimming.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d7bd458
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Happy_Hunting_Ground/tobinswimming.jpg differ

diff --git a/posts/Royal_Typewriter.mdwn b/posts/Royal_Typewriter.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e86c6d1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Royal_Typewriter.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+I love my Royal typewriter, sold by Langley Shazor of Bristol VA.  I am using her for a project that if I succeed, you'll never see.  I bought her for the soul purpose of being able to type up a diary of completely private thoughts.  Sure, I might air these thoughts later talking or writing a letter or in my blog.  But it is not often to find myself with a new means of writing other than pen and computer typing.  Maybe someone will publish my type written diary entries after my death, but maybe they won't.  It will be all the same to me.  The point is not eventual publication but the processing of thoughts, contemplation, writing therapy.  I think there is something to having a spot for private thoughts.  My blog is pretty much a proverbial open book, but there is no real purely open book.  Privacy exists inevitably in this world, somewhere.  But thoughts that just stay in my mind cannot grow and evolve.  And as much as I love a paper diary, this typewriter is a new form of writing.  Using this typewriter as a diary is just what I have decided to do with it.  So wish me luck.  And with incredible gratuity, Langley Shazor offers these typewriters for people to purchase, on lifetime warranty, and if they brake he fixes them for free.  I looked up the value of mine, and was impressed with the deal I got, and the full servicing promise.  I trust Langley Shazor and I just wanted to say a good word on his behalf.  

diff --git a/posts/a_New_day.mdwn b/posts/a_New_day.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2852afc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/a_New_day.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,7 @@
+This entry will not be a shout out to Langley Shazor of Casual Word who sold me my first type writer today!  I love my Royal, but my head drifted elsewhere, momentarily.  So be looking for my shout.
+
+
+My new therapist is amazing.  
+
+I have never thought I had such a great initial therapy appointment.  Stoked to have one again, and to grow with therapy.
+

diff --git a/posts/Truth_to_Power.mdwn b/posts/Truth_to_Power.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0d2da5d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Truth_to_Power.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,28 @@
+"Equality cannot be achieved without politics."  I paraphrase my mother's sentiment.  A largely logical response to my previous entry's decree, that unity must come through seeing a shared humanity.  
+
+The question of prayer as a response to shootings has always stretched me.  Most progressives I have known have said prayer is fine but we have to put actions behind our prayers.  I always want to be a progressive voice for prayer.  My friends say, since I am an activist, it is okay.  Prayer can be more powerful than action, I declare.  But friends rarely agree.
+
+There is no need for consensus on the subject.  Maybe it would be nice if we all had my view, but that is not my aim.  
+
+Equality is vital to unity.  That's true.  Speaking truth needs to be done.  There is a balance to everything.  I listen to NPR this morning and hear stories about things like a decision to see if non-citizens can cast ballots.  In my ideologies I would be very very glad to have undocumented immigrants voting as soon as possible.  They live here and work here and make capitalism functional.  May these people be empowered to make social change, I pray, listening to NPR.  May the non-citizens vote and change the world in other means too.  I have known non-citizens, and I see them as the best of people.  
+
+I guess my stopping point for talk of equality is only when it grows into "politics" or divisive argument when people stop being people and start being primary colors like red, blue, or just skin pigment and nothing more.  
+
+To humanize should be the aim through the entire human exchange.  I have changed people's beliefs before, but only through my own humility.  When my inner turmoil on a subject or for an issue rises above my compassion, I might angrily try to explain my views, but I am not any longer meeting eyes.
+
+A couple weeks ago, I did something that threw me into the deepest depression I remember.  I was talking with my Mom about Flaccavento and how I thought he might benefit from appealing to anti-Casino voters in Bristol.  So I went to the Bristol Virginia City Council meeting fed up about the casino, but with limited time to plan my speech, and in an impulse, I decided to talk to the room about my beliefs.  But I just embarrassed myself, trying to act more assured than I was.  I should have spoken from a point of humility and it would have gone fine.
+
+But I thought I had something to teach.  And I was loud and unproductive.  I went home and for a couple weeks I did not want to look in the public sphere.  I didn't want to be seen, and it had been recorded by media, and I felt exposed, and barely wanted to go grocery shopping.  I for the first time in my memory, thought the most terrible thought of borderline suicidal ideation.  For five minutes, or so, I thought it would be one way to end the grief.  
+
+Then, somehow, I pulled myself out of it.  
+
+It can be so easy to do the wrong thing, whether screaming protest against a casino in your home or killing your light.  
+
+It can be so much harder to do the right thing, to talk openly about your fears and concerns, to walk the steeper hill of confessional telling your dark thoughts to a friend.  
+
+Please take care of yourself first.
+
+I will.
+
+Please don't go off the deep end if you are not a sure swimmer.  Please be gentle with yourself.  Listen softly to the voice of intention saying what is right.  
+

diff --git a/posts/Does_a_tree_feel_pain__63__.mdwn b/posts/Does_a_tree_feel_pain__63__.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..accb3c6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Does_a_tree_feel_pain__63__.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,21 @@
+Some of the best questions to ask can scientifically be answered with a single word like no or yes.  
+
+But a tree just exists like a Buddha in perfect mediation.  A tree is body no mind.  Be body.  There is no guilt or blame, but existence and beauty.  We animals feel pain and maybe listening down to roots and hearing our dreams aids our healing and eases our pain.  But trees just are.  They don't live to pass judgment make politics or nestle themselves in ideologies, which is why, to refer to the definition of "Awakening" that Adyashanti gives,  trees may be more awakened than any of us.   Adyashanti's Awakening is close to UNITY and knowing we are one as unified beings.  We are the same.  The man who walks by on the road, regardless of his beliefs, Democrat, Republican, believing in the abolition of guns or the right to bare arms.  We are the man.  And the man is us.  And we all are also the tree and visa versa.    Be body.  Be body.  
+
+I think about the beautiful trees, as I breathe out air that my maple friend may breathe in.  Be body.  Be body.  
+
+In the Yoga studio at meditation, I mentioned the horrible misogynistic shooting of the wonderful women were killed to a passing acquaintance in the shoe room where we remove our foot wear.  Together in Unity we reflected upon the horror of the tragedy and how important it is to strengthen the mental health care given in this country.  Of course, then we branched out on our separate limbs, me speaking my beliefs (ideology) about how I think people should never have guns at all and her saying everyone should carry arms for protection.  I felt no reason to unveil my disunity.  It streamed out of me as a usual course like a flowing river.  It's how it happens.  Maybe your thing is to watch Amy Goodman with a furrowed brow and tight shoulders, or to go to the shooting range and practice.  But I believe we must aim towards unity, even if it means veering away from our comfortable ideologies.
+
+From the guy at the end of a road with a sign saying people will be shot on sight to the War is not the Answer bumper sticker, I am steering away from the dividers even those I believe in, because I believe more in Unity.  Be body; be body.
+
+There is a sycamore tree breathing in and out this same air.  Maybe it is meditating.  Maybe it is feeling.  Maybe it knows the pains of the world.  With certainty it knows how to exist and what is its body.  Xylem and Phloem and Stomata and all the words I have forgotten from Biology.  There is beauty in the way light touches it.  And body is.  The trunk is.  The leaves are.  The roots are deep.  
+
+When we Meditate, early in the process Heather says "now feel how your body is.  Do you have pains?  Be aware of the pains.  Are there good feelings?  Be aware of the joys.  Now let all of this go on down the stream.  Let your thoughts about the pains and the joys and all the thoughts be.  Do not judge them or say they are good or bad, just let them flow on downstream."
+
+Heather is teaching trees.  She is teaching a room of five to be body.  We are aware of our head and in unity with the thoughts there.  They are okay.  We allow the mind to exist in the stream, but it is the current flowing through everything that matters more.  
+
+Once, long ago, when I was judging and fearing yoga because I worried there was no room for my large body on a narrow mat, I met a woman named Marcy.  Now she has born children but this was before.  She told me politics is not a good thing to ask people about in the initiation of a conversation, and I was so adamant that I knew better than that.  I thought she just didn't want to disagree with me or have me angry.  Maybe that was a good part of it.  But part of why I agree now is that Unity is important.  
+
+Awakening might sound like a flaky, fluffy, new aged goal.  But it is just learning to be a tree, I think.  And I dare say we all could use a considerable amount more of it.  Even the Democracy Now watching yogis.  Especially the Democracy Now watching yogis.  
+
+Namaste.

diff --git a/posts/More_on_the_name_Xenia.mdwn b/posts/More_on_the_name_Xenia.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c503b5a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/More_on_the_name_Xenia.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+"I would love to share a bit more about Xenia's name, in addition to being a type of coral, it also means welcoming and hospitality for strangers in ancient Greek. It was the idea of mutual respect and care between host and stranger/guest and it was extended to all people! We really liked this meaning given whats going on in the world right now.
+Just thought you might like to know more of the story."  PM

diff --git a/posts/Coral_Toes.mdwn b/posts/Coral_Toes.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b921573
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Coral_Toes.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,16 @@
+<br>Thinking hard about our world</br>
+<br>and the name Xenia</br>
+<br>chosen for Alexia and Parks Marion's new baby</br>
+<br>which means Coral</br>
+<br>just like our Sango's middle name.</br>
+<br>And what it means</br>
+<br>what it really means</br>
+<br>to have somewhere</br>
+<br>little girls</br>
+<br>and babies</br>
+<br>with names</br>
+<br>of shells</br>
+<br>so fragile</br>
+<br>and livid</br>
+<br>and wild</br>
+<br>and wise.</br>

diff --git a/posts/Ghosts_and_All_Seeds_Day.mdwn b/posts/Ghosts_and_All_Seeds_Day.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4850186
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Ghosts_and_All_Seeds_Day.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,51 @@
+[[!img whiteandpinkcosmos.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]
+
+<br>Has anyone mentioned</br>
+<br>prior to my mother</br>
+<br>who hacks and hobbles</br>
+<br>against graying golden rod</br>
+<br>while I pick cosmos seeds,</br>
+<br>all soul's day</br>
+<br>is also all seeds day,</br>
+<br>a time of collecting heritage</br>
+<br>heirloom samples of life</br>
+<br>promising offspring?</br>
+
+<br>All soul's day </br>
+<br>is all seeds day.</br>
+
+<br>When else to take seriously </br>
+<br>Toko-pa Turner's </br>
+<br>words on ghosts.  </br>
+<br>I read her words on Belonging</br>
+<br>knowing ghosts who have occurred for me.</br>
+<br>She talks of this modern phenomena</br>
+<br>of ghosting </br>
+<br>and she alerts me and my depressive thoughts</br>
+<br>think about ghosting.  </br>
+<br>But I don't enough look down </br>
+<br>to see my own cloak of white,</br>
+<br>that says I am not guilt free.</br>
+
+
+
+
+The following quote I reuse with utmost respect and honor like sea shells borrowed from Earth's beach.  From Toko-Pa Turner's _Belonging_:
+
+When someone has ghosted on a conversation, commitment or conflict, it’s important to realize this as an act of indifference that counters belonging. Ghosting is all we believe we owe to a world on which we don’t feel we’ve made an impact. In a sense, it is to make yourself a ghost in your own life, dissociating from the importance of your presence in others’ lives. It is to withhold your disagreements, your longing to be seen, and to make yourself and others around you disposable. Unless someone is willing to hold you accountable, and be accountable themselves, they can never take a seat at the table of belonging.
+
+We need to show each other that love is worth wrestling for, braving ourselves into the fires of intimacy. We are not expendable. And we shall know each other every time we show up for conflict, hurt, and confusion.
+
+If you have invited such a “ghost” to move consciously through conflict and they’ve refused you, first you must give yourself wholeheartedly to grief. In French, instead of “I miss you,” we say, “Tu me manques” which means “you are missing from me.” In your grief, you are valuing the impact of your separation, the missing they’ve left behind.
+
+When you’re ready, find or create an object that symbolizes the closure you seek, and consider imbuing it with your prayers:
+
+I bless your absence, your silence, your disappearance from me with this grief. May the echo of your going missing reach back to you one day, so you know your own substantiality. May I know my grief as a measure of my willingness to devotion, and may I trust that I’ve been spared from halfway love. May this and all disappearances inspire me to become ever more scrappy and tenacious in love. May I know with greater clarity others who are the same. And when I meet them, may I redouble my commitment to the craft of belonging.
+
+Once you’ve given thanks and made your intent, throw your symbolic object off a bridge, burn it in a fire, bury it in a grave—but dispose of it and let it be final. There are a million tiny heartbreaks in every failed friendship, every disappointed hope, every extended hand denied, and we must grieve them all. But at a certain point, we also must stop carrying them with us. We must declare what’s done was all that could be done.
+
+Every separation you make from a person or place that cannot meet you where you stand is a step towards the community of your true belonging. 
+
+
+
+[[!img inthebeginningthecosmos.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]

attachment upload
diff --git a/posts/Ghosts_and_All_Seeds_Day/inthebeginningthecosmos.JPG b/posts/Ghosts_and_All_Seeds_Day/inthebeginningthecosmos.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ac36f46
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Ghosts_and_All_Seeds_Day/inthebeginningthecosmos.JPG differ
diff --git a/posts/Ghosts_and_All_Seeds_Day/whiteandpinkcosmos.JPG b/posts/Ghosts_and_All_Seeds_Day/whiteandpinkcosmos.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0d7ac6e
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Ghosts_and_All_Seeds_Day/whiteandpinkcosmos.JPG differ

diff --git a/posts/Temperate_Rainforest.mdwn b/posts/Temperate_Rainforest.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bec3ecb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Temperate_Rainforest.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,17 @@
+On the walk of a million maple trees
+
+we find so many leaves have dropped.
+
+A swimming hole for summer heat
+
+runs level from rock falls 
+
+on the way down stream.
+
+Lichens turn green
+
+or are they mosses?
+
+Springs carry clear waters
+
+into larger streams.

diff --git a/posts/Let_Night.mdwn b/posts/Let_Night.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3e2cf94
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Let_Night.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+There will be feelings you can't repeat in daylight, with children around.  Let the night unclog your thoughts.  Swim in the lunar waters.  When the sun rises, go unarmored into her light.  Don't forget your dream world awaits you on the other flip of the walnut.  

diff --git a/posts/Rumi_Did_not_Write_Poetry.mdwn b/posts/Rumi_Did_not_Write_Poetry.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..20c926e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Rumi_Did_not_Write_Poetry.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,5 @@
+I am listening to an audio book by Toko Pa Turner called "Belonging:  Remembering Ourselves Home."  I have been intermittently savoring this book, between other readings for over a month, and am nearing the end of the listen finally, though I have 3 or 4 more hours left of her beautiful voice.  
+
+In the chapter on Longing, the hidden center of the word Belonging unfolds in its meaning.  I don't know which chapter this is in the regular book, but it is here where Toko Pa Turner talks about Rumi.  I had read about the history of his coming into poetry, how it streamed out of him, as vocal transmissions, but Turner puts it in an eloquent way that opens for me a larger truth.  I don't have the exact quote but I rewound and listened twice to her amazing revelation that Rumi did not write poetry.  All of the poems written by Rumi were written by the people who were around him in his life, who recorded the poems that came as a result of what was happening with Rumi and his Longing.  
+
+Of course, Rumi, really was the most amazing poet.  But so much of his poetry, his longing, was his life.  It is just so interesting to read and read again. 

diff --git a/posts/Live_Beautifully.mdwn b/posts/Live_Beautifully.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..eaef907
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Live_Beautifully.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,5 @@
+Care wholeheartedly
+
+for yourself
+
+you will die one day.

diff --git a/posts/Who_Owns_this_B__40__l__41__og__63__.mdwn b/posts/Who_Owns_this_B__40__l__41__og__63__.mdwn
index d7032d8..0c79130 100644
--- a/posts/Who_Owns_this_B__40__l__41__og__63__.mdwn
+++ b/posts/Who_Owns_this_B__40__l__41__og__63__.mdwn
@@ -15,6 +15,8 @@ Is my purpose for this bog better than yours?
 Who owns the mineral rights below this land?
 
 
+
+
 Who owns the sky? 
 
 If a child owns no land,
@@ -24,6 +26,8 @@ If a child owns no home,
 Is the child homeless?
 
 
+
+
 I own no land.
 
 I own citizenship,
@@ -31,6 +35,8 @@ I own citizenship,
 And what I can carry.
 
 
+
+
 My breath,
 
 So far is free.

diff --git a/posts/Who_Owns_this_B__40__l__41__og__63__.mdwn b/posts/Who_Owns_this_B__40__l__41__og__63__.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d7032d8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Who_Owns_this_B__40__l__41__og__63__.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,40 @@
+Who Owns This bog?
+
+The bog itself
+
+The whispering wind
+
+Human interests
+
+Rich man
+
+Strong man
+
+Is my purpose for this bog better than yours?
+
+Who owns the mineral rights below this land?
+
+
+Who owns the sky? 
+
+If a child owns no land,
+
+If a child owns no home,
+
+Is the child homeless?
+
+
+I own no land.
+
+I own citizenship,
+
+And what I can carry.
+
+
+My breath,
+
+So far is free.
+
+
+
+5/10/06

diff --git a/posts/Depression_Gets_Easier.mdwn b/posts/Depression_Gets_Easier.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d361dff
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Depression_Gets_Easier.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,5 @@
+I've been depressed and thinking about depression, but actually, the thoughts elicited are pretty hopeful.  Depression today versus early depressive feelings in my mental illness, a decade ago, are marked by similar feelings.  But the depressions I used to get, I was not sure how to define or what to make of them.  I didn't know if they meant I would never do well in life or if I would never feel happy again each time I fell into depression.  Now, I am more accustomed to the negative feelings I am experiencing.  They are less surprising to me.  I don't have to worry about what they mean and to a degree, I can just let them be.  Sometimes they just mean I need to rest more or lie in bed watching TV, and that is okay for now.  
+
+It's not super easy though.  I had some bad PMS just last week and I didn't know why my thoughts were so harmful until I recognized PMS as the culprit.  Knowing why we feel how we do can make it less amplified.  
+
+[[!img whatisaweed.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]

attachment upload
diff --git a/posts/Depression_Gets_Easier/whatisaweed.JPG b/posts/Depression_Gets_Easier/whatisaweed.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b61362f
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Depression_Gets_Easier/whatisaweed.JPG differ

diff --git a/posts/Half_and_Half:__Where_my_Creativity_Originates.mdwn b/posts/Half_and_Half:__Where_my_Creativity_Originates.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c726ba5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Half_and_Half:__Where_my_Creativity_Originates.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,40 @@
+In Personality Theories class I studied perspectives and the truth that no one knows the full truth.  What we each believe depends on the person, and what we believe about ourself depends on who we are, but we just can't look at ourself from an objective perspective.  We can try to, and we will have clearer results.  But self analysis is never perfect.
+
+When we studied Nature Nurture, the professor seemed certain each of these influences carry half the weight on us on determining who we are.  
+
+I used to say I never had writing block, just periods of not writing that I accepted as the course of writing and not writing I would inevitably experience.  Maybe this helped me with the writing which followed the dry spells because I was not fighting the dry spell, just letting it take its natural course.  
+
+When I was in Berea College, the well inside me for words was turned on.  I wrote and wrote and wrote, often creative poems, constantly journaling, recording every word and every thought, then also always completing my essays for school, and often creatively.  I believed I was going to be a poet professionally.  I already had published over ten poems.  Now I've published forty.  
+
+There was no turning off my well of creativity.  But I think there was one thing that could do the task of shutting me and it did inevitably happen that I wrote less.  I am not certain this is why, but I am no longer on 2000 mg of Depakote.  I take half that amount now.  I think that some of my creativity originated in over medication.  
+
+Now I certainly write, and I likely will if my doctor tapers me completely off the unnecessary mood stabilizer, but it is more that I am crafting the language now than they are firing out of me uncontrollably.
+
+My analysis could be wrong though.  It might be I just write poetry with or without effort, but it waxes and wanes.    
+
+[[!img inthebeginningthecosmos.JPG align="right" size="500x" alt=""]]
+[[!img horizontal.JPG align="right" size="300x" alt=""]]
+
+
+
+Crossing
+
+Walking across a most rickety bridge
+
+Praying to God that she hold me
+
+Down underneath the muscles sing my dirge
+
+But I know better than them
+
+Oh the geese they did fly through
+
+the arched reams
+
+In couplets and triplets they soared up
+
+Just to land on the brown muddy water.
+
+May 7, 2010
+
+Berea, Kentucky

attachment upload
diff --git a/posts/Half_and_Half:__Where_my_Creativity_Originates/horizontal.JPG b/posts/Half_and_Half:__Where_my_Creativity_Originates/horizontal.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f8b41ba
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Half_and_Half:__Where_my_Creativity_Originates/horizontal.JPG differ
diff --git a/posts/Half_and_Half:__Where_my_Creativity_Originates/inthebeginningthecosmos.JPG b/posts/Half_and_Half:__Where_my_Creativity_Originates/inthebeginningthecosmos.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ac36f46
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Half_and_Half:__Where_my_Creativity_Originates/inthebeginningthecosmos.JPG differ

diff --git a/posts/New_Hojoki_Paintings_Being_Made.mdwn b/posts/New_Hojoki_Paintings_Being_Made.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..35ccebb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/New_Hojoki_Paintings_Being_Made.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+
+[[!img hojokiriver3.JPG align="right" size="300x" alt=""]]

attachment upload
diff --git a/posts/New_Hojoki_Paintings_Being_Made/hojokiriver3.JPG b/posts/New_Hojoki_Paintings_Being_Made/hojokiriver3.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c123075
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/New_Hojoki_Paintings_Being_Made/hojokiriver3.JPG differ

diff --git a/posts/October_Photo_Grab.mdwn b/posts/October_Photo_Grab.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8f53d91
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/October_Photo_Grab.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,7 @@
+
+[[!img mazel.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]
+[[!img newcar.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]
+[[!img beauty.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]
+[[!img pinkcosmos.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]
+
+Photo credits Adrianne Hess.

attachment upload
diff --git a/posts/October_Photo_Grab/beauty.JPG b/posts/October_Photo_Grab/beauty.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..add081a
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/October_Photo_Grab/beauty.JPG differ
diff --git a/posts/October_Photo_Grab/mazel.JPG b/posts/October_Photo_Grab/mazel.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6c00470
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/October_Photo_Grab/mazel.JPG differ
diff --git a/posts/October_Photo_Grab/newcar.JPG b/posts/October_Photo_Grab/newcar.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ff13469
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/October_Photo_Grab/newcar.JPG differ
diff --git a/posts/October_Photo_Grab/pinkcosmos.JPG b/posts/October_Photo_Grab/pinkcosmos.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ad3e6da
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/October_Photo_Grab/pinkcosmos.JPG differ

diff --git a/posts/Seeing_Trees__44___a_Sermon_of_Sorts.mdwn b/posts/Seeing_Trees__44___a_Sermon_of_Sorts.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..719f52c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Seeing_Trees__44___a_Sermon_of_Sorts.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,13 @@
+Years ago I got the great honor of bringing two friends home to a Tri Cities Thanksgiving from Berea.  When we were leaving the giant meal my Bristol friends had spread out at Roseland's table, Mike turned to me and he made a comment about how "these are remarkable, successful, good people I'd like to know but they do not see you."  I did not take in his remark, but benchmarked it in my mind for much later.  
+
+For much of my life, I have lived in the shadows of big trees and for much of the time, I actually did not see myself because of the rest of the forest.  A sort of big fish in a small pond feel was elicited by Mike's comment, but my Roseland friends were not small sorts.  What is it to grow up the least important or thought of person in a cluster of high achieving, winners?  Well, I can say it's strange, but I never really thought about it that way.  I just never did.  
+
+It is true though, I am peerless, in my family friend group.  And they do not see me.  It is ice worth thinking about as it swallows down.  I guess it is why I always was a pretty friendly child and young adult.  I made efforts to reach out.  And I finally did, for a brief time of college, exist in a new forest where I was a little more of a stand out tree.  Of course part of that is I have overcome through challenges different than most of the others at Berea.  In fact, being disabled for mental illness was a new one for Health Services, when I was there, according to one staff person.  
+[[!img 16.3.JPG align="right" size="300x" alt=""]]
+
+This sounds mopey.  It is a reflection of events, but very recently, I drove to the grocery store.  I saw someone pushing a cart who just had a cool look to him.  As I found my way to park, all the people I encountered fit that description.  Everyone was groovy and had a story worth listening to and really learning from.  Everyone in the lot impressed me.  But I don't always approach average strangers as if their book is as great as mine.  I am not conceited at all, but there is a feeling of separateness in existence.  People are just busy.  We spend a lot of time watching TV or working our asses off or packing school lunches, but it is not in community that we generally dwell.  Here on this street, I feel I have community because we all know one another, to a point.  But connection and having time to actively care about the other trees is a big deal.
+
+There is this thing I know that I always have known, that has not been really apparent through all this writing, and it is _nobody is better than anyone else._  So all of this talk of trees being taller is just entirely socially constructed.  That nobody is better than anyone else is one of my most deeply held beliefs.  But when you talk to people it hardly ever is said or suggested.  Instead from the first minute, the parties involved locate the "top dog" or "dawg" and proceed.  We have to look at all the grocery shoppers with eyes of equality, yes.  And when we talk to them and about others, we have to be equals because we are all equals in the Light of Truth.  
+
+
+[[!img 00.art.greensky.jpg align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]

attachment upload
diff --git a/posts/Seeing_Trees__44___a_Sermon_of_Sorts/00.art.greensky.jpg b/posts/Seeing_Trees__44___a_Sermon_of_Sorts/00.art.greensky.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..093e0dc
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Seeing_Trees__44___a_Sermon_of_Sorts/00.art.greensky.jpg differ
diff --git a/posts/Seeing_Trees__44___a_Sermon_of_Sorts/16.19.JPG b/posts/Seeing_Trees__44___a_Sermon_of_Sorts/16.19.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2972314
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Seeing_Trees__44___a_Sermon_of_Sorts/16.19.JPG differ
diff --git a/posts/Seeing_Trees__44___a_Sermon_of_Sorts/16.3.JPG b/posts/Seeing_Trees__44___a_Sermon_of_Sorts/16.3.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..52848ee
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Seeing_Trees__44___a_Sermon_of_Sorts/16.3.JPG differ

diff --git a/posts/Hojoki_for_Children.mdwn b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c939daa
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,56 @@
+How can people be like rivers?
+[[!img 1.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]] 
+Long ago in Kyoto, Japan, a man named Chomei lived in a spacious house.  
+[[!img 3.JPG align="right" size="300x" alt=""]]
+Like the river he lived beside, Chomei knew neither his dwelling not his own life would last forever.  
+[[!img 4.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]
+He was trying to be a great poet and he won big awards but he did not feel happy yet.
+
+[[!img 5.JPG align="right" size="300x" alt=""]]  
+One day a giant whirlwind swallowed up his house, dumping all the pieces around his yard.  
+[[!img 6.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]
+Chomei salvaged the parts that were not broken and he threw them in the river, and washed them down to a new place, where he built a medium house of them.  
+
+[[!img 7.JPG align="right" size="300x" alt=""]]
+He still wasn’t happy.  
+[[!img 8.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]
+One day an earthquake struck the city of Kyoto and much of Chomei’s house fell down again.  
+
+[[!img 9.JPG align="right" size="300x" alt=""]]
+Again he salvaged the remaining parts, threw them in the river, and reassembled them downstream into a small house.
+
+Then there was a big fire that came to his house.  
+[[!img 10.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]
+Chomei saved remaining parts of his house by washing them down stream, as he had before.  
+
+At last, he built his final home, which he called Hojoki, ten by ten hut.  
+[[!img 11.JPG align="right" size="300x" alt=""]]
+There he was able to find happiness, and he wrote a beautiful poem, a masterpiece of 
+
+Japanese literature, also called Hojoki.
+[[!img 12.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]
+People can be strong like rivers.
+
+Sometimes it helps to identify with something in nature, like a stream or a house.
+[[!img 13.JPG align="right" size="300x" alt=""]]
+People are resilient like Hojoki, the ten by ten hut that Chomei made.  
+
+We can sit next to a waterway, throw sticks in, and watch them race slowly along.  
+
+[[!img 14.jpg align="right" size="300x" alt=""]]
+It is okay to think of ourselves as pieces of the Earth for a while.  
+[[!img 15.jpg align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]
+We are the water and the bamboo, a type of plant that some Japanese huts are made of.  
+
+We can dream while we wake.  
+
+[[!img 16.jpg align="right" size="300x" alt=""]]
+We might build an actual house someday.  
+
+We might learn the wisdom of simplifying our needs.
+[[!img 17.JPG align="right" size="300x" alt=""]]
+We can be poets of these days.
+
+We can tell stories that touch generations.  
+
+[[!img 18.jpg align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]

attachment upload
diff --git a/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/1.JPG b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/1.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..767fb10
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/1.JPG differ
diff --git a/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/10.JPG b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/10.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c2f09eb
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/10.JPG differ
diff --git a/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/11.JPG b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/11.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ea3b04a
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/11.JPG differ
diff --git a/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/12.JPG b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/12.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1a98187
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/12.JPG differ
diff --git a/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/13.JPG b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/13.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b9f8958
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/13.JPG differ
diff --git a/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/14.jpg b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/14.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..10b77f9
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/14.jpg differ
diff --git a/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/15.jpg b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/15.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..00b15b1
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/15.jpg differ
diff --git a/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/16.jpg b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/16.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3647af6
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/16.jpg differ
diff --git a/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/17.JPG b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/17.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0f5ee00
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/17.JPG differ
diff --git a/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/18.jpg b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/18.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cdc6d55
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/18.jpg differ
diff --git a/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/3.JPG b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/3.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f0a3a93
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/3.JPG differ
diff --git a/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/4.JPG b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/4.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2245186
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/4.JPG differ
diff --git a/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/5.JPG b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/5.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..550b01d
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/5.JPG differ
diff --git a/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/6.JPG b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/6.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fed979f
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/6.JPG differ
diff --git a/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/7.JPG b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/7.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c9c6073
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/7.JPG differ
diff --git a/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/8.JPG b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/8.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3c2a30b
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/8.JPG differ
diff --git a/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/9.JPG b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/9.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d5df0be
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Hojoki_for_Children/9.JPG differ

diff --git a/posts/Airing_Out_the_Night_Mare.mdwn b/posts/Airing_Out_the_Night_Mare.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d2af44d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Airing_Out_the_Night_Mare.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,29 @@
+I had a dream more vivid than most of my waking hours.  One of my most real, practical, and long lived friends betrayed my trust in the worst possible way.  She lied to me as a regular course of action thinking she was protecting me.  When I found it out, I started screaming at her.  (None of this ever would happen.)  (Right?)  
+
+I put my hand on the door to slam it, but her hand caught it as the door began to hit the frame.  
+
+In that moment, I see her gesture, and again she is trying to protect.  It is her job.  It is her.  She is a mother, a nurturer, a friend.  
+
+As a mentally ill person with a disability for my mental illness, I have had a great struggle trying to cope with "patronizing people."  
+
+It is a lack of trust in my character.  Not something simple like lacking my intellectual abilities.  More entangled.  
+
+But in the dream, my friend clearly wanted to protect me.  Maybe it was not a nightmare, but a vivid dream only.  
+
+There were times in my past when I needed help coping way more than just a phone call or health care.  Some of my friends remember vulnerable fragile Maggie better than they know me now.  And I have no way of promising I will be this way another day, or even a year.  
+
+I don't know.  I have hope.  I think I am super strong and amazing.  
+
+I barely can just take care of myself lately.  And there aren't many friends hanging out here  with all that people do.  
+
+It is complicated.  But I do take care of myself, albeit barely.  I make it through.  
+
+It is a strange balance, on my end trying to cope, and trying to live up to my potential, and having relationships with people who don't know what to expect from me.  On the end of the loved one or friend or new acquaintance, I say I hate being patronized, but do I like occasional compliments?  And how do you do that?  How do you actively not patronize people?  
+
+I seem to generally seek people who are really good at not patronizing me.  
+
+And dreams are just all in our heads too.  
+
+Except I guess they also are channels of reality that can be turned on and switched from time to time.  
+
+Comments are rare, but I would love to hear what you think!

diff --git a/posts/Lost_Friend.mdwn b/posts/Lost_Friend.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5d8d4a5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Lost_Friend.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,33 @@
+Have you ever lost a friend?
+
+One of the most intimate truths a friend ever told me, was Wren long ago.  Long before her name was Wren, Huck spoke of losing friends.
+
+Said some people lose friends more than others.
+
+Some people go through anguishing feeling divorces with people they wanted more than anything to trust and love.
+
+That so many of her most beloved friends slipped through her fingers.
+
+She could not take them where she was going.
+
+I've long approached friendships, by default, by accident, like seeking a best friend and grasping for air.
+
+She said until that point, actually when she was telling me that story, a decade ago, Wren said that telling me was a turning moment for her.  She said it on the spot.  She defined the moment as she lived it.
+
+My friends see me standing there grasping for "the one."  Some think it's romantic.  And sometimes it wants to be.  They listen to me.  They hear me say I've been hurt badly by my own mental illness, I've been hospitalized 5 times.  They hear me pleading with them, saying I never in my life tried suicide or drugs or even hardly alcohol more than a few samples.  
+
+I'm surprised every time, but my true real rock solid best friends say to me, they want me to have vices.  They'd understand how to help me if I followed a "normal" structure of self hatred.  They don't understand what I am doing, whatever it is that I am doing.  Nobody is hospitalized 5 times just for being mentally ill.  Then I explain, I was.  And all I need is a friend, a shoulder to cry on now and then.
+
+And they say, oh, Maggie, I'll be your shoulder...  now and then.  
+
+Then, well, _my pattern used to be_ I would keep coming to the same friend and wear them out.  And family too.  And like after a million times, and a weirdo scenario, they just couldn't take it any more, being my person.  
+
+So I realized, I don't have a person.  I have a best dog.   And I have a bunch of people I can call on now and then.  And sometimes no one can talk, and then I write.  
+
+And Wren and I are still friends.  She's made a solid foundation of a life for herself, and I am proud of her.  She is a famous homesteader and a free spirited wife and blogger and poet.  
+
+I think of all the friend fish I have let slip through my net, and I just am so grateful for fish and water and life in general.  
+
+I got lost once.  When I was a little girl, I don't remember how it happened, but I was at Bayes Mountain with my family, and I lost my family for about an hour.  It is a blur of a memory in my mind, mostly composed of the retellings of stories my family told.
+
+It's good they found me.  

diff --git a/posts/to_Anthony.mdwn b/posts/to_Anthony.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f22bcda
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/to_Anthony.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,8 @@
+You are making a remarkable effort this run.  I see Flaccavento signs all over Washington and Scott counties.  Griffith can be defeated.  I hope!
+
+It's been a while since I had emotional energy to invest in a political campaign, and I am sorry I neglected yours.  I could have phone banked, and I do have a way of convincing people about political things.  I'll help with your re-election!!  You've got to win.  We don't see eye to eye on guns and maybe one or two other things.  But I just hadn't considered what is really happening with your election.  I am in the process of dashing off a letter to the editor for you.  The rest, I'm afraid you've got to do.  So be reinvigorated knowing Tennesseans are relying on you at holding your head tight in the chopping block a little longer.  You've stuck your neck out for anyone who cares about streams or health care.  I'm praying people read through the BS and you are knocked over by the weight of their votes.
+
+Please win.
+
+Your Friend,
+Maggie Hess

diff --git a/posts/to_KL.mdwn b/posts/to_KL.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0ecee4e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/to_KL.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,14 @@
+<br>Please accept this poem,</br>
+<br>which hides in between the rolls</br>
+<br>of the land like a heron I spotted.</br>
+<br>It doesn't need to fly to be known.</br>
+<br>In fact, let it stay</br>
+<br>where peace parts the barely noticeable</br>
+<br>banks of Boozie Creek</br>
+<br>and I drive by so cautiously,</br>
+<br>trying not to be seen seeing</br>
+<br>in a big red Suzuki. </br>
+<br>And it stays still as a puddle</br>
+<br>in that tender little place</br>
+<br>where I don't think I have ever</br>
+<br>seen a heron.</br>

diff --git a/posts/Inspiration.mdwn b/posts/Inspiration.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4ab27dd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Inspiration.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,32 @@
+Inspiration is an open letter box.  Inspiration.  I've been writing email poems to broken sticks in the trail to the garden.  Soon I'll go into the back yard to harvest Zinnias, Zinnies as Onie would say.  Her Silas was this sort of Bible worshiping man.  I was thinking of him, on my drive home.  Listening to this new channel for me, Christian music.  I really promise there is not a bit of me that identifies Christian.  Though they read a verse from Peter, and it reminded me there is a lot of good in that book.  Book.  It was about forgiving people who will never apologize.  Then they read something about the devil being in that situation of not apologizing, but also in the not forgiving.  What a rambling paragraph.  Anyway, I never wanted to believe in Satan, but maybe the Christians are right.  I don't know.  But Silas is right.  I'm not sure what he thought on Satan, but I reckon he thought there was one.  Thing is, we all struggle internally.  We might be thinking about these things, God, Satan, as external forces, but I guess I am understanding that we have Satan in us, if we have God.  
+
+<br>Friends are Sticks</br>
+	
+<br>to Wren</br>
+<br>Friends are like sticks,</br>
+<br>and it sounds funny</br>
+<br>but some people collect sticks.</br>
+<br>Until it doesn't sound funny.</br>
+<br>Until, we write "well duh"</br>
+<br>with our short leaded sticks</br>
+<br>and we walk home</br>
+<br>leaning on sticks</br>
+<br>or we bend over and see</br>
+<br>the reason -</br>
+<br>they are beautiful.</br>
+
+<br>Then we look at the other half</br>
+<br>lying in the path</br>
+<br>on the other side of our brown boot.</br>
+<br>Snapped in two,</br>
+<br>and we apologize</br>
+<br>not enough,</br>
+<br>and thank God for the beauty. </br>
+<br>Not enough.</br>
+<br>And we hobble home</br>
+<br>with our sling</br>
+<br>full of sticks. </br>
+
+I was trying to define whether I am in a time of opening but I think the correct word is growing.  What seeds in October?  Greens, at least in my Dad's garden in South Carolina.  You can't really start cabbage outside in October.  Better to try in June to get those seeds going.  They take a little more maintenance.  
+
+Our inner workings are the ocean and the shore.  Our emotions and psychology and minds and hearts and souls.  That is the whole world.  For so long, I see myself as a slug inside a shell.  I can see nothing but my darkness, a little light shines through from time to time.  It's just a snail I am identifying with this day or month or year.  Places I have been, feelings I have felt that seem to be gone forever, skills I once had or now have.  Everything is a fleeting phase.  We are flickering here and there always.  There is no permanence.  But we appear to be.

diff --git a/posts/Elephants_of_Our_Youth.mdwn b/posts/Elephants_of_Our_Youth.mdwn
index 617f38b..286e099 100644
--- a/posts/Elephants_of_Our_Youth.mdwn
+++ b/posts/Elephants_of_Our_Youth.mdwn
@@ -4,5 +4,5 @@ Egotistical growing pains.  Restless to be somebody.  To know all the answers.
 
 Yet childlike, a goal worth seizing.  Hold tight to those childlike qualities.  Stay true to your child within.
 
-
+*Upon reading recent negative reviews of Kingsolver's new novel.  
 

diff --git a/posts/Elephants_of_Our_Youth.mdwn b/posts/Elephants_of_Our_Youth.mdwn
index 6ec49d7..617f38b 100644
--- a/posts/Elephants_of_Our_Youth.mdwn
+++ b/posts/Elephants_of_Our_Youth.mdwn
@@ -2,7 +2,7 @@ What is youthfulness?  It's painful.  Bones broken through bleeding flesh.  Skin
 
 Egotistical growing pains.  Restless to be somebody.  To know all the answers.  An unwillingness to take steps one at a time.  
 
-Yet childlike, a goal worth ceasing.  Hold tight to those childlike qualities.  Stay true to your child within.
+Yet childlike, a goal worth seizing.  Hold tight to those childlike qualities.  Stay true to your child within.
 
 
 

diff --git a/posts/Elephants_of_Our_Youth.mdwn b/posts/Elephants_of_Our_Youth.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6ec49d7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Elephants_of_Our_Youth.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,8 @@
+What is youthfulness?  It's painful.  Bones broken through bleeding flesh.  Skinned knees.  Alley fights and sovereignty.  Stalked by drunken men, scratching their balls through sagging trousers.  Fighting uphill to school and uphill the way back home.  Young and turbulent.  Striving too hard for no good reason.  To prove self.  
+
+Egotistical growing pains.  Restless to be somebody.  To know all the answers.  An unwillingness to take steps one at a time.  
+
+Yet childlike, a goal worth ceasing.  Hold tight to those childlike qualities.  Stay true to your child within.
+
+
+

attachment upload
diff --git a/posts/Elephants_of_Our_Youth/warpedmirrors.jpg b/posts/Elephants_of_Our_Youth/warpedmirrors.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..918f8c3
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Elephants_of_Our_Youth/warpedmirrors.jpg differ

attachment upload
diff --git a/posts/Elephants_of_Our_Youth/smilingmonteverde.JPG b/posts/Elephants_of_Our_Youth/smilingmonteverde.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dd2e54c
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Elephants_of_Our_Youth/smilingmonteverde.JPG differ

removed
diff --git a/posts/The_Seriousness_of_the_Situation.mdwn b/posts/The_Seriousness_of_the_Situation.mdwn
deleted file mode 100644
index d1e9370..0000000
--- a/posts/The_Seriousness_of_the_Situation.mdwn
+++ /dev/null
@@ -1,4 +0,0 @@
-
-[[!img tobinatwrk.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]
-
-Retro Sunday.

removed
diff --git a/posts/How_to_Feel.mdwn b/posts/How_to_Feel.mdwn
deleted file mode 100644
index f1c51ac..0000000
--- a/posts/How_to_Feel.mdwn
+++ /dev/null
@@ -1,13 +0,0 @@
-[[!img meganandgabel.JPG align="right" size="375x" alt=""]]
-
-All negative emotions live in the brain so close to love, definitely touching knees.  The brain is there to communicate for us and sometimes the feelings get confused.  So we have to think of our ambivalence as if we are caring for a naughty child.  That's how we must see the argument and the other.  And that is how we must see ourself.  
-
-May we be well.
-
-May we be healthy and strong.
-
-May we be happy and safe.
-
-May we be free from suffering and the cause of our suffering.
-
-May we be filled with compassion _for ourself._

attachment upload
diff --git a/posts/What_is_Meditating...__to_me__63__/buddha.jpg b/posts/What_is_Meditating...__to_me__63__/buddha.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ff43e92
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/What_is_Meditating...__to_me__63__/buddha.jpg differ

diff --git a/posts/How_to_Feel.mdwn b/posts/How_to_Feel.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f1c51ac
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/How_to_Feel.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,13 @@
+[[!img meganandgabel.JPG align="right" size="375x" alt=""]]
+
+All negative emotions live in the brain so close to love, definitely touching knees.  The brain is there to communicate for us and sometimes the feelings get confused.  So we have to think of our ambivalence as if we are caring for a naughty child.  That's how we must see the argument and the other.  And that is how we must see ourself.  
+
+May we be well.
+
+May we be healthy and strong.
+
+May we be happy and safe.
+
+May we be free from suffering and the cause of our suffering.
+
+May we be filled with compassion _for ourself._

attachment upload
diff --git a/posts/How_to_Feel/meganandgabel.JPG b/posts/How_to_Feel/meganandgabel.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f9ddc6d
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/How_to_Feel/meganandgabel.JPG differ
diff --git a/posts/How_to_Feel/meganandsango.jpg b/posts/How_to_Feel/meganandsango.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c16b2bb
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/How_to_Feel/meganandsango.jpg differ

diff --git a/posts/The_Seriousness_of_the_Situation.mdwn b/posts/The_Seriousness_of_the_Situation.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d1e9370
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/The_Seriousness_of_the_Situation.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,4 @@
+
+[[!img tobinatwrk.JPG align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]
+
+Retro Sunday.

attachment upload
diff --git a/posts/The_Seriousness_of_the_Situation/tobinatwrk.JPG b/posts/The_Seriousness_of_the_Situation/tobinatwrk.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1ca2a86
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/The_Seriousness_of_the_Situation/tobinatwrk.JPG differ

diff --git a/posts/Nightmare__44___May_You_Be....mdwn b/posts/Nightmare__44___May_You_Be....mdwn
index 74ce920..27c6fa3 100644
--- a/posts/Nightmare__44___May_You_Be....mdwn
+++ b/posts/Nightmare__44___May_You_Be....mdwn
@@ -1,4 +1,4 @@
-Nightmare, you are not my reality.  I do not hate you.  I know you came because you feel fear and pain.  I am lying here in the same bed now.  I've decided to pair the bad memory of the nightmare with an actually quite peaceful experience of resting, warm and cosy, with the dog cuddled at my feet.  I hear her deep breathing in and out.  It is wet out and autumnally chilly.  Nightmare, you elicited fear that I am not wanted.  But my meditation guru shared something with me so maybe others enjoy me still.  I will let my good exchange with her sit next to you, like a dog at your feet, a companion balled next to you, a friend for you, to keep you balanced.  May you be free from suffering and the cause of your suffering.  May you be filled with compassion.
+Nightmare, you are not my reality.  I do not hate you.  I know you came because you feel fear and pain.  I am lying here in the same bed now.  I've decided to pair the bad memory of the nightmare with an actually quite peaceful experience of resting, warm and cozy, with the dog cuddled at my feet.  I hear her deep breathing in and out.  It is wet out and autumnally chilly.  Nightmare, you elicited fear that I am not wanted.  But my meditation guru shared something with me so maybe others enjoy me still.  I will let my good exchange with her sit next to you, like a dog at your feet, a companion balled next to you, a friend for you, to keep you balanced.  May you be free from suffering and the cause of your suffering.  May you be filled with compassion.
 
 
 

diff --git a/posts/Nightmare__44___May_You_Be....mdwn b/posts/Nightmare__44___May_You_Be....mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..74ce920
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Nightmare__44___May_You_Be....mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,5 @@
+Nightmare, you are not my reality.  I do not hate you.  I know you came because you feel fear and pain.  I am lying here in the same bed now.  I've decided to pair the bad memory of the nightmare with an actually quite peaceful experience of resting, warm and cosy, with the dog cuddled at my feet.  I hear her deep breathing in and out.  It is wet out and autumnally chilly.  Nightmare, you elicited fear that I am not wanted.  But my meditation guru shared something with me so maybe others enjoy me still.  I will let my good exchange with her sit next to you, like a dog at your feet, a companion balled next to you, a friend for you, to keep you balanced.  May you be free from suffering and the cause of your suffering.  May you be filled with compassion.
+
+
+
+[[!img leaves_p_4154.jpg align="right" size="400x" alt=""]]

attachment upload
diff --git a/posts/Nightmare__44___May_You_Be.../leaves_p_4154.jpg b/posts/Nightmare__44___May_You_Be.../leaves_p_4154.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a3ed90b
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Nightmare__44___May_You_Be.../leaves_p_4154.jpg differ

diff --git a/posts/The_Most_Peaceful_Place_On_Earth.mdwn b/posts/The_Most_Peaceful_Place_On_Earth.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d5e6517
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/The_Most_Peaceful_Place_On_Earth.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,25 @@
+<br>Broad is the land</br>
+<br>stretched between protective banks</br>
+<br>rows of porches</br>
+<br>Southern streets</br>
+<br>locust trees</br>
+<br>catalpa trees</br>
+<br>bended knees</br>
+<br>the gardeners prays for their country.</br>
+<br>All of them do.</br>
+<br>Rows of gardeners</br>
+<br>pop up across thick meadows</br>
+<br>pushing plows and lawn mowers.</br>
+<br>Some kill weeds.</br>
+<br>Most pour sparse water o're the dirt.</br>
+<br>Humanity is a garden of gardeners.</br>
+<br>Sometimes for money.</br>
+<br>More often to feel the playful quality.</br>
+<br>People gardening</br>
+<br>with little terriers digging parallel holes.</br>
+<br>Every few moments the pause for breath.</br>
+<br>The Earth can lie fallow for long stretches.</br>
+<br>So much need for rain.</br>
+<br>So much rain.</br>
+<br>We all live in the most beautiful spot</br>
+<br>from Timbuktu to Kabul to Helsinki to Bristol.</br>

diff --git a/posts/Brazen__39__s_heel_healing_.mdwn b/posts/Brazen__39__s_heel_healing_.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..902e7dd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Brazen__39__s_heel_healing_.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,5 @@
+Brazen got her stitches removed a couple days ago.  A big improvement from spewing blood everywhere, my pup's paw pad is still a fragile state, so we still use either a head e collar cone or a boot.  
+
+I need to invest in some gloves or dig in the basement and go out in the back alleys picking up glass.  I never broke bottles but it is irresponsible to expect the people who throw their trash around to clean up after themselves.
+
+I am pretty sure it is not a universal understanding, the bond shared between a pet and their human.  Of course they are our favorite family members.  I would do anything for my puppy.  So I am glad she's getting better.

diff --git a/posts/27_is_3_times_3_times_3.mdwn b/posts/27_is_3_times_3_times_3.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..37bf59c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/27_is_3_times_3_times_3.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,15 @@
+<br>When I'm 27</br>
+<br>I finish college</br>
+<br>with babies.</br>
+
+<br>School of minnows.</br>
+<br>School of thought.</br>
+<br>School employs leisure.  </br>
+
+<br>Now </br>
+<br>the babies </br>
+<br>turn 27.</br>
+
+<br>I look back</br>
+<br>wishing I had</br>
+<br>bubble wrapped them kindly.</br>

diff --git a/posts/Preserved_Youth.mdwn b/posts/Preserved_Youth.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..df03522
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Preserved_Youth.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,20 @@
+<br>Last night I dream of a boy I once knew.</br>
+<br>I knew him when he was eight and I was 17.</br>
+<br>Mutual family friends rarely seen.</br>
+<br>I build a wall around the world</br>
+<br>so he can play forever free.</br>
+<br>But it blocks migratory corridors of song birds.</br>
+<br>They start dropping to our feet.</br>
+<br>We're torn between rescuing them</br>
+<br>and fearing disease.</br>
+<br>I wake up missing the nineties</br>
+<br>then drift back to sleep</br>
+<br>to a land I can control.</br>
+<br>Brick by brick I tare down the wall</br>
+<br>and build shelters with the leftover bricks</br>
+<br>to house the homeless people </br>
+<br>in my mind.</br>
+<br>Kid must be 27 now.</br>
+<br>Not a kid.</br>
+<br>Someone who saves orcas for a living.</br>
+<br>You never know the impression you are making.</br>

diff --git a/posts/Winter_hours_extend_over_the_land.mdwn b/posts/Winter_hours_extend_over_the_land.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..92324a3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Winter_hours_extend_over_the_land.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,6 @@
+<br>October stretches wide.</br>
+<br>Windows sealed up to keep the cold out.</br>
+<br>Flocks passing above chimneys.</br>
+<br>Grannies tucked in bed much later.</br>
+<br>Pups huddled at their feet.</br>
+<br>Marigold seeds scattering.</br>

diff --git a/posts/The_Land_of_Purple.mdwn b/posts/The_Land_of_Purple.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..953b342
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/The_Land_of_Purple.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,5 @@
+<br>Is there a land where everyone is purple?</br>
+<br>And what does it mean to be purple?</br>
+<br>What is regular or typical?</br>
+<br>Can everyone be purple </br>
+<br>or just shades of red and blue?</br>

diff --git a/posts/Publication_News.mdwn b/posts/Publication_News.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5ebc238
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Publication_News.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,12 @@
+I have four bumper stickers left, though I think Charlotte agreed to take one.  So three more lucky people get these:
+[[!img preview.jpeg align="right" size="300x" alt=""]]
+
+I am still putting out audiobooks on audible.  So this list is growing.
+https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Maggie+Hess&ref=a_lib_c4_libItem_author_5&pf_rd_p=ae76b2bb-e63d-4a67-b357-dab3dee05ca1&pf_rd_r=G6S00WZ1NJXQW3EPYV68&
+If you are new to audible or simple want a free promo code to purchase my book, I can hook you up if you ask.
+
+The producer, MJ Helmer, who did the voice for Anne Lamont in Bird by Bird, has agreed to read my memoir Moody Tourist in Costa Rica.  So that will be upcoming.
+
+A few of my new books on kindle and paperback are unreviewed as of yet.  I would love to have you read and review these books.
+https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=dp_byline_sr_book_1?ie=UTF8&text=Maggie+Hess&search-alias=books&field-author=Maggie+Hess&sort=relevancerank
+The new books include two poetry collections, Sow's Ear Children, and Chronology.  

attachment upload
diff --git a/posts/Publication_News/preview.jpeg b/posts/Publication_News/preview.jpeg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..eedabad
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Publication_News/preview.jpeg differ

Added a comment: (Accidentally) Forgotten sites
diff --git a/posts/How_to_Social_Media___40__without_Facebook_or_Twitter__41__/comment_1_975562ed7517b23c3b139f3eedcfd799._comment b/posts/How_to_Social_Media___40__without_Facebook_or_Twitter__41__/comment_1_975562ed7517b23c3b139f3eedcfd799._comment
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c9cec5d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/How_to_Social_Media___40__without_Facebook_or_Twitter__41__/comment_1_975562ed7517b23c3b139f3eedcfd799._comment
@@ -0,0 +1,33 @@
+[[!comment format=mdwn
+ username="maggiemargarethess@78015320cd96dc052b86f45ba7a77ac2c0aaa5a7"
+ nickname="maggiemargarethess"
+ avatar="http://cdn.libravatar.org/avatar/61b9ea3a9064e12dbcc6ed88724c1640"
+ subject="(Accidentally) Forgotten sites"
+ date="2018-10-11T15:47:56Z"
+ content="""
+https://www.meetup.com/
+
+http://www.bedlamfarm.com/
+
+waldeneffect.org
+
+http://groups.yahoo.com/group/amigasdelsenor/
+
+https://amigasdelsenor.weebly.com/
+
+https://steemit.com/homesteading/@mountainjewel/garden-naked-or-mountain-jewel-uncovered
+
+rosegardenyoga.com
+
+https://williampennhouse.networkforgood.com/.
+
+http://mfschool.org/
+
+johnfrankshares.blogspot.com
+
+https://tinybuddha.com/
+
+
+
+
+"""]]

diff --git a/posts/How_to_Social_Media___40__without_Facebook_or_Twitter__41__.mdwn b/posts/How_to_Social_Media___40__without_Facebook_or_Twitter__41__.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4180891
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/How_to_Social_Media___40__without_Facebook_or_Twitter__41__.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,74 @@
+Facebook is a "shit fest."  This is a fact of life, and it could easily be said about Twitter too.  But going online can bring a feeling of connection, understanding, and expression.  I have been itching to read blogs but I don't always know where to find the good ones.  Plus there are forums and places to connect online of intrigue.   I hope to make a lengthy list.  In fact I am going to look up some of the blogs of my favorite writers and use this as a personal directory for myself.  If any of my readers will add in the comment section your favorite blogs, or just places you like to connect at online, I would really love to grow my list that way.  
+
+https://www.nami.org/Get-Involved/Join
+
+blogging and reading blogs
+
+https://family.kitenet.net/blogs/
+
+http://www.kenilgunas.com/
+
+https://drjoedispenza.com/pages/about#
+
+http://www.couragerenewal.org/blog/
+
+https://toko-pa.com/category/all/
+
+https://brenebrown.com/blog/
+
+http://carlsafina.org/blog/
+
+http://heatherdentstudio.blogspot.com/
+
+https://onbeing.org/blog/
+
+https://blog.ted.com/
+
+http://www.adyashanti.org/index.php?file=teachings
+
+http://blog.eckharttolle.com/
+
+https://www.quietrev.com/
+
+https://plumvillage.org/category/blog/
+
+http://nataliegoldberg.com/blog/
+
+http://www.ehrenreich.blogs.com/
+
+http://symontgomery.com/
+
+http://followyourfeelgood.com/
+
+https://www.dreddieoconnor.com/blog/
+
+https://kellymcgonigal.com/kellyloves
+
+https://www.tarabrach.com/blog/
+
+https://self-compassion.org/category/blog-articles/
+
+http://berrycenter.org/resources/blog/
+
+http://piperkerman.com/
+
+
+
+http://wwoof.net/
+
+goodreads.com
+
+https://www.fgcquaker.org/connect/quaker-finder
+
+www.acx.com Convert your kindle books to audiobooks, get free promo codes for audible.
+
+Couchsurfing
+http://beautyitselfispurpose.branchable.com/posts/An_Enthusiasm_for_couchsurfing.com/
+
+Patchwork/ scuttlebutt
+
+Dating websites.
+
+
+
+[[!img cats.JPG align="right" size="300x" alt=""]]

attachment upload
diff --git a/posts/How_to_Social_Media___40__without_Facebook_or_Twitter__41__/cats.JPG b/posts/How_to_Social_Media___40__without_Facebook_or_Twitter__41__/cats.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0d55ce0
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/How_to_Social_Media___40__without_Facebook_or_Twitter__41__/cats.JPG differ

diff --git a/posts/The_Beauty_of_Poor_Street_.mdwn b/posts/The_Beauty_of_Poor_Street_.mdwn
index 45cd4b4..a7ad224 100644
--- a/posts/The_Beauty_of_Poor_Street_.mdwn
+++ b/posts/The_Beauty_of_Poor_Street_.mdwn
@@ -18,6 +18,6 @@
 <br>back to my home.  I know you loved my home.</br>
 <br>I know you loved my beautiful home, because beauty takes love.</br>
 <br>"Am I beautiful?"  Loosely translates:  Do you love me?</br>
-<br>"Is my home beautiful."  Means:  Do you understand me?</br>
+<br>"Is my home beautiful?"  Means:  Do you understand me?</br>
 <br>These things take practice, a rested heart,</br>
 <br>a belief in the emotional bed of life.</br>

diff --git a/posts/The_Beauty_of_Poor_Street_.mdwn b/posts/The_Beauty_of_Poor_Street_.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..45cd4b4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/The_Beauty_of_Poor_Street_.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,23 @@
+<br>We don't live on poor street, but it wouldn't be a long walk</br>
+<br>from here.  The oldest car on our street was replaced </br>
+<br>by the newest one.  I know these homes; it is so easy to love</br>
+<br>their bones.  You can paint the walks or hang a witch,</br>
+<br>but you can't remove the home from the house.  A house</br>
+<br>is a home.  The empty home across from where we inhabit</br>
+<br>has a chimney habitat for swift birds, swooping down.</br>
+
+<br>When first I saw your home, I knew it must be worthy.</br>
+<br>But when I saw the house across the drive, I did not know</br>
+<br>its story.  So it took some time before I saw the beauty</br>
+<br>in the suburbs.  Beauty is heart.  Beauty is a tug on the strings</br>
+<br>of emotion.  That's why beauty can take narrative to know.</br>
+<br>That is why I know you know my home is home beautiful.</br>
+<br>You who have trusted your way through my back alley with me</br>
+
+<br>and trespassed your way behind my paw ways</br>
+<br>back to my home.  I know you loved my home.</br>
+<br>I know you loved my beautiful home, because beauty takes love.</br>
+<br>"Am I beautiful?"  Loosely translates:  Do you love me?</br>
+<br>"Is my home beautiful."  Means:  Do you understand me?</br>
+<br>These things take practice, a rested heart,</br>
+<br>a belief in the emotional bed of life.</br>

diff --git a/posts/Fortune_is_the_Tide.mdwn b/posts/Fortune_is_the_Tide.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..49d70b3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Fortune_is_the_Tide.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,21 @@
+<br>I've seen her shores,</br>
+<br>flooding their sand castles,</br>
+<br>washing them to cave</br>
+<br>in long pools</br>
+<br>up and down the beach,</br>
+<br>sanderlings wading,</br>
+<br>a one leg sea gull</br>
+<br>laughing and wading</br>
+<br>and waiting to catch a puffer fish.</br>
+
+<br>Just as I've seen her shores</br>
+<br>reeling out</br>
+<br>where we used to find sand bars,</br>
+<br>where the pelicans used to go,</br>
+<br>now must go out deeper</br>
+<br>past the sand dunes sheltering.</br>
+<br>The oldest water on the shore</br>
+<br>is replaced by some miracle,</br>
+<br>a wave to body surf upon,</br>
+
+<br>salty water spitting high.</br>

diff --git a/posts/Empoement.mdwn b/posts/Empoement.mdwn
index fa9699a..4681ccc 100644
--- a/posts/Empoement.mdwn
+++ b/posts/Empoement.mdwn
@@ -8,7 +8,7 @@
 <br>Until at last he </br>
 <br>gives up on it.</br>
 
-<br>She spits them out,</br>
+<br>She spits them out, seeds,</br>
 <br>until some waning week or month,</br>
 <br>when she imagines </br>
 <br>she'll never write again.</br>

diff --git a/posts/Empoement.mdwn b/posts/Empoement.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fa9699a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Empoement.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,34 @@
+<br>Every poem, the man who taught her words,</br>
+<br>surpasses her last arrangement.</br>
+<br>Every poem, the girl flies triumphantly</br>
+<br>past the father.</br>
+
+<br>He edits his verse twenty years,</br>
+<br>until it's ripe and done.</br>
+<br>Until at last he </br>
+<br>gives up on it.</br>
+
+<br>She spits them out,</br>
+<br>until some waning week or month,</br>
+<br>when she imagines </br>
+<br>she'll never write again.</br>
+
+<br>Poems are like the Indian's land</br>
+<br>the tribe that knows it's family.</br>
+<br>A part of our inner world</br>
+<br>we can never deny.</br>
+
+<br>Sisters and brothers</br>
+<br>surging ahead</br>
+<br>as whose most prolific</br>
+<br>can't forget the roots.</br>
+
+<br>Odes to death.</br>
+<br>Odes to forgetfulness.</br>
+<br>Odes to poems.</br>
+<br>Cars full of odes,</br>
+
+<br>traversing wherever the GPS directs,</br>
+<br>up Georgia Road on the long ride,</br>
+<br>to the Pentagon if asked,</br>
+<br>but hopefully home.</br>

diff --git a/posts/Car.mdwn b/posts/Car.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..849c069
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Car.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+<br>Suzie the Suzuki.</br>
+<br>Suzan B. Anthony.</br>
+<br>Dream ride.</br>

diff --git a/posts/Once_there_was_a_Little_Girl.mdwn b/posts/Once_there_was_a_Little_Girl.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cb900cc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Once_there_was_a_Little_Girl.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,79 @@
+<br>...born in some Eastern city</br>
+<br>hither to yon, with plums growing </br>
+<br>even though it was winter</br>
+<br>those plum blossoms snowing.</br>
+
+<br>...born with a wealth</br>
+<br>a silver spoon</br>
+<br>New Englander</br>
+<br>a healthy loon.</br>
+
+<br>...why oh why</br>
+<br>is everything free</br>
+<br>asked the frosty transplanted</br>
+<br>New England plum tree?</br>
+
+<br>...she looked around her</br>
+<br>a Siddhartha lady</br>
+<br>and decided to resettle</br>
+<br>and earn her own pay day.</br>
+
+<br>...over forty years</br>
+<br>she worked and she earned</br>
+<br>raising five kids and many others</br>
+<br>and riding wheels that turned.</br>
+
+<br>...her kids grew up</br>
+<br>and most moved far away</br>
+<br>(except for a daughter poet</br>
+<br>with a disability.)</br>
+
+<br>"...by the skin of my teeth</br>
+<br>I bought each car.  </br>
+<br>And now my teeth have bout run out</br>
+<br>and my ride won't go far."</br>
+
+<br>...when the transmission </br>
+<br>about dies</br>
+<br>hills become</br>
+<br>increased in size.</br>
+
+<br>...she's worked so hard</br>
+<br>caring for all the others</br>
+<br>it's a song so often sung</br>
+<br>about tireless mothers.</br>
+
+<br>...as good as he was, </br>
+<br>the father moved South</br>
+<br>and Momma almost lost all hope</br>
+<br>for the freedom of driving about.  </br>
+
+<br>...until the rest of her family (including the Dad)</br>
+<br>in an act of generosity</br>
+<br>pulled together efforts</br>
+<br>and bought her a Suzuki.</br>
+
+<br>...her family knew</br>
+<br>an economy</br>
+<br>that she had put more into than any of them -</br>
+<br>an economy of generosity.</br>
+
+<br>...now imagine a world</br>
+<br>where Trump </br>
+<br>is </br>
+<br>dumped.</br>
+
+<br>...for scientist know</br>
+<br>consciousness</br>
+<br>really is a controlled hallucination</br>
+<br>at best.</br>
+
+<br>...in other words as New Aged as it sounds</br>
+<br>to a certain degree</br>
+<br>we create our own</br>
+<br>reality.</br>
+
+<br>...and even if</br>
+<br>you don't agree</br>
+<br>I'd better quit writing</br>
+<br>for simplicity.</br>

diff --git a/posts/My_First_Guided_Meditation.mdwn b/posts/My_First_Guided_Meditation.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..eea2260
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/My_First_Guided_Meditation.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,13 @@
+I was in a flunk most of yesterday.  I took a mental health day in what I was doing.  I needed to go swimming but I was convinced it would not be the best thing because it does involve a pool of people and I just needed space.  I just needed to isolate myself for a while and absorb the quiet of my room and home, with my pets who fortunately don't talk.  
+
+I wake up early, so much of the morning and early afternoon was filled with me trying to rest, trying to zone out in front of TV that just didn't work, and trying to nap which didn't work, and eat junk that didn't work.  Then around 2:30, I started seeking more information on a sort of manual to kill my ego, which I did not shoot with my first intended bullet.  (See previous entry.)
+
+So I looked up TED talks on the ego, but found they didn't speak to the nature of my problem, and they seemed to ramble about problems I really don't relate to - a common kind of negative self talk.  My problem seems to be that other people say things that bug me, so I began researching talks with both ego and relationship as a search term.  But that was a fail too.  So I went to Audible, which always seems to have something for me.  
+
+The book that came up as the highest rated with my search terms was "You are the placebo."  I listened to a clip, though.  I wasn't going to buy it, even with a free promo code, without listening.  I was a little apprehensive of the new age title.  I found myself giggling at the featured clip.  I was truly unsure of whether the voice of the writer and narrator was legitimately serious.  But I was allured into buying the audio book by Joe Dispenza, and I ultimately also got the second book in the pair of recorded books only on Audible.  
+
+I listened to the whole first book, laying back in my dog's comfortable chair.  I became a nonbeing, floating around in space, whether my eyes were closed or when they were open.  It brought me great peace, even when I was laughing out loud at the strange serious, slow nature of Dispenza's instructional voice.  
+
+Yesterday was open mic night at Bloom.  So I decided I wanted to try to lead the coffee shop in guided meditation.  And I did.  I tried to make my voice just as unusual and commanding as Dispenza.  And in the same way that I was filled with peace listening to his book, I hoped my audience DE-stressed in hearing my performance.
+
+Then at the very end, when I was done, someone I know and admire came up to me saying it worked for him.  

removed
diff --git a/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_very_Old_Trees.mdwn b/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_very_Old_Trees.mdwn
deleted file mode 100644
index b3ac8c9..0000000
--- a/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_very_Old_Trees.mdwn
+++ /dev/null
@@ -1,12 +0,0 @@
-[[!img libby_shoots.JPG align="right" size="350x" alt=""]]
-[[!img maggielibbyandrogeragain.JPG align="right" size="350x" alt=""]]
-[[!img blendingintoscenery.JPG align="right" size="500x" alt=""]]
-
-Let the trees be tall.
-Let the trees be thick.
-Let the trees sway rough.
-And let the leaves play.
-And let them grow old.
-And let them teach you something.
-And you'll have memories of their bark.
-And you'll remember trees.

diff --git a/posts/Dying.mdwn b/posts/Dying.mdwn
index 4b721b4..4da81ac 100644
--- a/posts/Dying.mdwn
+++ b/posts/Dying.mdwn
@@ -1,3 +1,3 @@
-Before his assassination, Martin Luther King wrote about his end in his journals.  I know this, so I have always added it to my superstition.  When people I know die, they come in threes.  A white horse on a tree grants a wish, like blowing a dandelion.  And I have always known that my next year is given to me upon hearing a loved one sing happy birthday to me.  If no one sings happy birthday, well this is the only year that has ever happened, and I didn't know what to do with it.  So in the back of my mind, I wondered if I would not live to be 37.  Then I went on with about a month and a couple days ago, I got an empty fortune cookie (without a fortune tucked inside.)  "That's it."  I thought.  "One more bad piece of luck, and I will die!"  Superstition probably is really hard for non-superstitious people to understand.  It's like these arguments I keep having with mostly family.  I know I love my people more than the arguments, but too often I have chosen the arguments.  
+Before his assassination, Martin Luther King wrote about his end in his journals.  I know this, so I have always added it to my superstition.  When people I know die, they come in threes.  A white horse on a hill grants a wish, like blowing a dandelion.  And I have always known that my next year is given to me upon hearing a loved one sing happy birthday to me.  If no one sings happy birthday, well this is the only year that has ever happened, and I didn't know what to do with it.  So in the back of my mind, I wondered if I would not live to be 37.  Then I went on with about a month and a couple days ago, I got an empty fortune cookie (without a fortune tucked inside.)  "That's it."  I thought.  "One more bad piece of luck, and I will die!"  Superstition probably is really hard for non-superstitious people to understand.  It's like these arguments I keep having with mostly family.  I know I love my people more than the arguments, but too often I have chosen the arguments.  
 
 So my sister did something I found unforgivable.  But I love her, so I decided to let my love win over the dispute, after all.  It was really hard, but I am letting that part of me die, the arguer.  I am letting that be the part of me that dies this year, that doesn't live to hear another birthday song or fortune.  I am sorry for all of you whom I have hurt, even you other person who imagine I could just maybe be talking about you.  I love you, in a little way, or a big way if my sister.  I love you, and I am sorry.

diff --git a/posts/Dying.mdwn b/posts/Dying.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4b721b4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Dying.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+Before his assassination, Martin Luther King wrote about his end in his journals.  I know this, so I have always added it to my superstition.  When people I know die, they come in threes.  A white horse on a tree grants a wish, like blowing a dandelion.  And I have always known that my next year is given to me upon hearing a loved one sing happy birthday to me.  If no one sings happy birthday, well this is the only year that has ever happened, and I didn't know what to do with it.  So in the back of my mind, I wondered if I would not live to be 37.  Then I went on with about a month and a couple days ago, I got an empty fortune cookie (without a fortune tucked inside.)  "That's it."  I thought.  "One more bad piece of luck, and I will die!"  Superstition probably is really hard for non-superstitious people to understand.  It's like these arguments I keep having with mostly family.  I know I love my people more than the arguments, but too often I have chosen the arguments.  
+
+So my sister did something I found unforgivable.  But I love her, so I decided to let my love win over the dispute, after all.  It was really hard, but I am letting that part of me die, the arguer.  I am letting that be the part of me that dies this year, that doesn't live to hear another birthday song or fortune.  I am sorry for all of you whom I have hurt, even you other person who imagine I could just maybe be talking about you.  I love you, in a little way, or a big way if my sister.  I love you, and I am sorry.

rename posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_Old_Trees.mdwn to posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_very_Old_Trees.mdwn
diff --git a/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_Old_Trees.mdwn b/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_very_Old_Trees.mdwn
similarity index 100%
rename from posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_Old_Trees.mdwn
rename to posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_very_Old_Trees.mdwn
diff --git a/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_Old_Trees/blendingintoscenery.JPG b/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_very_Old_Trees/blendingintoscenery.JPG
similarity index 100%
rename from posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_Old_Trees/blendingintoscenery.JPG
rename to posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_very_Old_Trees/blendingintoscenery.JPG
diff --git a/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_Old_Trees/libby_shoots.JPG b/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_very_Old_Trees/libby_shoots.JPG
similarity index 100%
rename from posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_Old_Trees/libby_shoots.JPG
rename to posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_very_Old_Trees/libby_shoots.JPG
diff --git a/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_Old_Trees/maggielibbyandroger.JPG b/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_very_Old_Trees/maggielibbyandroger.JPG
similarity index 100%
rename from posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_Old_Trees/maggielibbyandroger.JPG
rename to posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_very_Old_Trees/maggielibbyandroger.JPG
diff --git a/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_Old_Trees/maggielibbyandrogeragain.JPG b/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_very_Old_Trees/maggielibbyandrogeragain.JPG
similarity index 100%
rename from posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_Old_Trees/maggielibbyandrogeragain.JPG
rename to posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_very_Old_Trees/maggielibbyandrogeragain.JPG
diff --git a/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_Old_Trees/maggielibbyroger.JPG b/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_very_Old_Trees/maggielibbyroger.JPG
similarity index 100%
rename from posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_Old_Trees/maggielibbyroger.JPG
rename to posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_very_Old_Trees/maggielibbyroger.JPG

diff --git a/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_Old_Trees.mdwn b/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_Old_Trees.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b3ac8c9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_Old_Trees.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,12 @@
+[[!img libby_shoots.JPG align="right" size="350x" alt=""]]
+[[!img maggielibbyandrogeragain.JPG align="right" size="350x" alt=""]]
+[[!img blendingintoscenery.JPG align="right" size="500x" alt=""]]
+
+Let the trees be tall.
+Let the trees be thick.
+Let the trees sway rough.
+And let the leaves play.
+And let them grow old.
+And let them teach you something.
+And you'll have memories of their bark.
+And you'll remember trees.

attachment upload
diff --git a/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_Old_Trees/maggielibbyandrogeragain.JPG b/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_Old_Trees/maggielibbyandrogeragain.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4fbe3da
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_Old_Trees/maggielibbyandrogeragain.JPG differ

attachment upload
diff --git a/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_Old_Trees/maggielibbyandroger.JPG b/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_Old_Trees/maggielibbyandroger.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cf31f71
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_Old_Trees/maggielibbyandroger.JPG differ

attachment upload
diff --git a/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_Old_Trees/blendingintoscenery.JPG b/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_Old_Trees/blendingintoscenery.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..353ab19
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_Old_Trees/blendingintoscenery.JPG differ
diff --git a/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_Old_Trees/libby_shoots.JPG b/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_Old_Trees/libby_shoots.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..35aebb0
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_Old_Trees/libby_shoots.JPG differ
diff --git a/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_Old_Trees/maggielibbyroger.JPG b/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_Old_Trees/maggielibbyroger.JPG
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bcc339b
Binary files /dev/null and b/posts/Once__44___I_Lived_with_Old_Trees/maggielibbyroger.JPG differ

diff --git a/posts/Reporting_Assault.mdwn b/posts/Reporting_Assault.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7b1487b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Reporting_Assault.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,30 @@
+I think it was 2007 or thereabouts when I went on an impulsive trip to Unity, Maine to investigate Unity College on a sort of manic venture.  Anyone else might have blamed their mental illness or the impulsiveness of the trip and blamed them self for what went wrong.  It ended up being the worst disaster of a time.  I really didn't enjoy the trip.  The bus ride was too long, nothing was well planned, it was too cold for whatever spiring time month it is, and I was running out of money so had to stay an extended time with a fortunately kind farmer who I had contacted about WOOFING.  I did little farm volunteering.  I was exhausted.  I slept a ton.  I don't remember how long I imposed and stayed with her.  I was afraid of her pet dog, because she warned me he was part wolf and might be unpredictable.  
+
+I never have really written about this time.  It was somewhere between a week and a month.  I am so blurry on the time.  
+
+Before leaving on that horrible Greyhound bus, my good friend had kind of randomly told me this sort of crash course advice on rape and assault.  1/3 of all women will be assaulted.  She told me most women don't report their assaults, but she had studied sociology in college and emphasized that from her findings, the women who are more resilient in this hard time are the ones who report their assaults, but she said the most important thing is that the victim have _someone_ to tell.  I swear this was like a month before I went away and got assaulted.  
+
+I think if my friend hadn't have told me that, I don't know if I would have ever actually got home.  
+
+I was assaulted in a remote bus stop near Unity.  It was a place with a building, but I was dropped off there due to the fact my host was busy and needed to return home.  The building was after hours, so I sat on a bench outside, and a Guatemalan man with a knife came up to me and forced me to touch his exposed penis.  I am leaving some details out because it is pretty raw still surprisingly, and I can.  
+
+I got on the bus when it came.  I was so relieved there were other people.  He boarded too.  I was terrified he would try to hurt me, though looking back I should have asked the driver to call the police on him.  I got off in Portland in the dead of night.  I don't remember if I took a taxi.  I felt followed.  I went to a expensive hotel.  I don't know how I afforded it.  I think I had just got my month's paycheck, and just barely got home and paid for the night in the hotel, then had no more money that month.  
+
+In the hotel I took a shower.  By then I told myself I had to tell someone.  I called many people.  I forget in what order or whom.  I know I think I called my youngest sister first.  She told me the exact right thing.  
+
+I have a mental illness where I get withdrawn at times.  I don't remember if I slept.  I do remember I had bought a weird little radio and I was on the verge of being delusional because I heard strange things in the head set.  I remember being so confused and in shock and withdrawn and just in this place mentally.  It never has been so bad.  I wasn't sure I would get home.
+
+I had been babysitting a couple kids in Bristol, and I remember I started, inside my head, talking to myself as if I were the six year old, reassuring myself that I was capable of doing this, I could get home.  I could figure out which way to go in the big scary station in New York.  I don't know why I didn't get on a bus to Tennessee where I needed to go.  I guess I just took the train to my Dad's in South Carolina without thinking.  
+
+On the Amtrak, this man sat down near me.  He was kind and I wasn't talking to anyone., but he said to me, he knew what I was going through.  He didn't say he was "praying for me" but he extended this kind of compassion that is hard to describe.  If he hadn't I don't know if I would have survived.  There are good strangers too.
+
+Then he left.  He gave me my space.  
+
+I forget why my Dad was angry, but it didn't seem entirely the right reason.  I think I told him what happened, but maybe I didn't yet.  That was hard.  Maybe someone else told him.  I told all kinds of people.  
+
+Back in Tennessee, it was my friend Deni who made an impression that I needed to officially report the assault.  Several other people said I was talking about the assault too much.  Some didn't believe.  That hurt.  Felicia said I should talk about it more.  That was the most useful advice.  
+
+It was so hard, but I called the police station in Maine and told what happened.  Deni was right that the assailant was still out there and he would do it again if he wasn't stopped.  I don't know if he ever was stopped.
+
+
+In terms of sexual assault victims, I never would disbelieve someone who said that happened.  Not entirely for conventional reasons.  Just because I have been assaulted, and being disbelieved hurts too bad.  

diff --git a/posts/Me_Too.mdwn b/posts/Me_Too.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..61eeee1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/posts/Me_Too.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,23 @@
+<br>I did not ask you to touch me inside.</br>
+<br>I did not ask you to mold me like clay.</br>
+<br>I did not ask you to peel this sensitive part of me wider.</br>
+<br>I did not ask you to hold me hard as the world spun</br>
+<br>because I did not chose you.</br>
+<br>If I had asked for this you would know I was asking.</br>
+<br>The palms around me would not jerk me open.</br>
+<br>The hands would be a feminine touch.  </br>
+<br>They would not squeeze the life out of me</br>
+<br>but they would let me find myself in them.</br>
+<br>They would not rape me</br>
+<br>but they would lead me to lead myself.</br>
+
+<br>So is the artist making something sensual?</br>
+<br>Or is the artist taring the soul out and dragging it up the throat?</br>
+
+<br>You've got to ask yourself these questions</br>
+<br>because everything is art</br>
+<br>and every encounter creates something</br>
+<br>or chokes it. </br>
+
+
+[[!img maxresdefault.jpg align="right" size="350x" alt=""]]