Hacking problems again!

I have been trying quite hard to fix whatever is afflicting my Blog. I have tried all the advise I've been given and it's been no use. Actually, it's becoming stressful and I am considering creating another blog and stopping this one altogether. I am hoping to keep all my good friends. Should I be forced to move I will let everyone know about my new place.

Wishing you all a wonderful weekend.

Dreaming in color and other differences

I never gave much thought to the fact that I dream in color. Actually, I thought everyone else did until just recently when someone brought up the subject and I learned many people don't.  There are many theories and studies that indicate that most men dream in black and white, and most women dream in color. The debate gets heated when some experts affirm everyone dreams in black and white while others affirm the opposite. 

Intrigued by the subject, I was surprised to learn that my husband and son have dreams they describe as "short and flitting" and always in black and white. On the other hand, my daughter and I dream long, detailed, colorful dreams which my husband says could be "scenes from a novel."

These differences bring me to another subject and am sure all ladies will agree that, from the highest business executive to the most humble of laborers men share the innability to find "things." The socks are there neatly folded in the drawer, the butter is in it's proper place in the fridge, the corkscrew is laying right next to the bottle of wine and you will get the famous: "Honey, I can't find it!"

I wonder...perhaps the part in a woman's brain that makes them dream in color is also the compass to help expertly navigate drawers and cupboards...

What do you think? Do you dream in color?

A rose beneath the snow

I like to take a ramble

When the buds begin to swell

And drink from cyrstal waters

Between the crags and rills.

I like the summer sunshine

Of the Golden West

And the crimson leaves in autum

That Nature has encensed.

To the mid winter season

All hail with joyous song

From heaven the feathery flakes

To earth come drifting down

To purify the air we breath

And to fertilize the soil

In every country, village,

City, farm and town.

Home may only be a dug-out

On the mirrored plains

Or a cabin in the woods

At the end of the lane.

But all is a merry homeland

If we keep our fires aglow

And in our pathway we will find roses

Down beneath the snow.

Poem by J.P. Dunn titled The Plains Poems in Kansas
Photo by Weheartit.com

This thing called LOVE

I did not always love St. Valentine's Day. Actually, as a shy young girl it was one of the saddest days of the year. The red hearts, chocolate, and roses were sour reminders of the fact that I had not found my soul mate. I'd spend the day moping, wrapped in the femme fatale aura so typical of the very young and naive. I'd languish by the window convinced I would never be loved...

There was no way for me to know that Cupid had plans for me and had reserved a special golden arrow so sharp, that once it landed it could never be removed. And so, after what seemed like "years" of loneliness, it happened. When the "shooting" occurred I did not notice. The arrow's power was strong but very subtle: I had met my soul mate and did not know it...

On the other hand, my soul mate, smart man that he is, knew it right from the start. So, he did not pay attention to my mixed signals and set out to show me the way. The road to his heart was made of birdsong, shimmering sunsets, gentle rain, fragrant flowers, and silvery moons. It was easy to follow, impossible to avoid...

And so, after years of having found true love I am still amazed at how it happened. I still marvel at how something so important could have started in such simple way. There can be no doubt, life can change in the wink of an eye, in that split second when Cupid aims his golden arrow and hits an unsuspecting heart...

Photo by Bing Images