tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46924666421425734502024-03-10T13:50:41.377-04:00NRIGirlNRIGirl is a blog every NRI (Non Resident Indian) can relate to. Come onboard to join the search to find our identity away from our homeland...NRIGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02709704269988589729noreply@blogger.comBlogger408125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4692466642142573450.post-25618351222010538832022-04-28T12:49:00.002-04:002022-04-28T12:49:36.890-04:00Keeping busy<p> Alright folks, it has been a long time since I wrote anything. </p><p>After a long haul I am back to connect with you all. Life got busy you see. And I was overall happy. Didn't feel a need to connect with anyone as I had many with whom I connected in person. </p><p>But the aloofness has returned. It feels like after all I do not have any true friends, except for two with whom I hardly get to connect. Hence I thought I will revert back to sharing online, to whoever wants to hear or to the emptiness out there. </p><p>Did I say life has been busy? Yes, and very sadly I lost my beloved sister... I don't think I would ever fully recover from the shock and loss and grief. But I am keeping busy as otherwise I would go down a slippery slope from which it would be hard to crawl out for the rest of my life. </p><p>I am keeping busy. Yes. Knowing you are all out there for me to confide in occasionally, I keep busy for now... </p><p>To my blogger friends out there: If you are still around, from whichever corners of the world, please leave a message so I can check out your blogs as well. </p><p><br /></p>NRIGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02709704269988589729noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4692466642142573450.post-84530898278640893652021-02-09T23:35:00.005-05:002021-02-10T10:13:30.766-05:00My testimony<p> Praise the Lord! </p><p>Good afternoon everyone. Since I do not trust myself to speak on my own without much blabbering I decided to write it down. It may sound like I am reading from some notes. But bear with me, this is my attempt to actually speak from my heart.</p><p>A testimony is nothing but one's own personal witness of how they found the Lord Jesus Christ and how their life has progressed since. So, here's mine with a flashback to my childhood. </p><p>Born and raised in a Christian family I had the privilege of being raised in the faith at a very young age. My parents and grandparents were great role models and godly influencers of my life. Papa, Amma, Pautimas they were the best of their kind. It was a blessed childhood. </p><p>We were showered with love. Everything was done in love. There was abundance of kisses, hugs and expressions of love around. We were never beaten or yelled at. Amma called me Queenma; Papa called me Queenie makkaa. Very loving folks. They lovingly corrected us with scriptures. </p><p>Every matter brought by me to their attention was weighed down in godly light. Bible says this Queenma, the scriptures are clear on that Queenie, were the frequent responses from Amma and Papa. If someone said something or did something wrong to us, we had to forgive. </p><p>If we said something or did something wrong to anyone, knowingly or unknowingly, we had to apologize and reconcile. We never heard of our elders talking ill of anyone else. They only said things about others that they wouldn’t mind telling them in person. This transparent nature instilled in me the same transparency. </p><p>Spreading rumors', gossiping, backbiting, lying, disrespecting elders, saying anything bad of ministers of God and even having strong political opinions were discouraged. They would have a scripture for every situation. Like ' Do not defile the king even in your inner chambers', 'A gossip betrays a confidence', 'God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble', 'do not get weary of doing good', 'love one another', 'Without holiness no one can see God' , 'be doers of the Word, not hearers only' etc. </p><p>They taught us to strive for holiness and told us that the infilling of the Holy Spirit is essential to live a holy life. Every discussion around the house led us to godly matters. Amma and Papa did a lot of sitting around and talking to us, which we kids truly enjoyed. They gave us the freedom to openly share our opinions. In fact many a life's decisions came from these talks, like who we would like to marry, where we would like to live etc. </p><p>In our home, anyone who came in contact with my parents got saved; like house-maids, carpenters, neighbors, their kids, etc. many. I saw that my parents and grandparents did that only by loving and living. Not by preaching.</p><p>Me for the most part was a good child though I had my bouts of complaints every now and then. I did not like it when they corrected me with scriptures in-spite of it being completely the other party’s fault for the happenings. I felt that they were always taking sides with my offenders. It took me a long time to actually apply these teachings willingly and on my own.</p><p>Now I know that that is what we as Christians are called to be. The only thing that should offend us is when someone offends our Lord Jesus CHRIST. The only thing that should sadden us is when our friends do not know Jesus. The only way we have to behave is to love. Our duty or calling or responsibility or purpose in this life is to follow Jesus and love, genuinely love, people around us so that they can see and find Jesus through us.</p><p>I told you I understood the full meaning of my parents' teaching much later in life. Yes, when I got married. For the first time in my life it felt like I was a fish outside of water. It was suffocating. If not for the godly instructions instilled in me by my parents, I would have quit and walked away. But because of God’s unfailing love and mere mercy I did not. </p><p>The experiences taught me to fully depend on God. For love. For comfort. For guidance. For counseling. For instructions. For provisions. Even for a friend.</p><p>True I have many friends. But God has been and still is my ultimate friend. I am always talking to God. If not about anything in particular, I thank Him. I keep saying I love Him. I enjoy the formation of clouds with Him. I tell Him to quickly pick out my outfit for the day. I request Him to hold the bus for me, to save a seat for me. Please!</p><p>I ask Him to solve the logic for me, to meet the deadlines at work. To come shopping with me. To help me buy the right thing for the right price. When I try it on, I ask Him how I look in it. Isn't that what a friend is for?</p><p>So as you can imagine, the communication channel is constantly flowing. I can't say I have always been like that. Somehow through life's experiences I have arrived here and I enjoy this abandoned dependency on Him. </p><p>I hold the scriptures to heart. If scripture says He will never leave me nor forsake me, I take His word for it. If it says to rejoice in the Lord always, I try. If it says give thanks, I do. He knows my every desires, He holds my every tears. I share my every secret. There is really nothing that I haven't bared to Him. Happy moments, sad ones He is part of it all. </p><p>And God for His part almost always reassures His love for me. By His promises. By reminding me of songs that explain His love. Even showing me <i>Isaiah 62:4</i> that has my name in it - <i>Hephzibah </i>- which means God’s delight. He even let me experience His very presence, this beautiful sweet smelling presence once, in a very realistic dream I woke up sobbing from, with tears of joy. </p><p>The same marriage that suffocated me once now refreshes me. I can honestly say I have found my best friend (next to God) in my husband. Not that we do not have conflicts. But love prevails. Last December we celebrated our 22nd wedding anniversary. Praise the Lord. </p><p>God has blessed us with three beautiful children. All three of them have a personal relationship with God and spend hours reading and meditating His word, taking part in and leading Bible studies and adhering to godly instructions. They are not ashamed to stand up for God when situations arise. Isaiah 54:13 has this beautiful promise which I have claimed for my children. <i>"All your children will be taught by the LORD, and great will be their peace."</i></p><p>Indeed they are taught by the Lord so far and will be. Praise the Lord.</p><p>That is my story folks! Thanking God for this opportunity to stand as His witness in front of you all today. </p><p>I would like to end with this scripture: <i>நாம் நிர்மூலமாகாதிருக்கிறது கர்த்தருடைய கிருபையே, அவருடைய இரக்கங்களுக்கு முடிவில்லை. புலம்பல் 3:22</i></p><p><i>It is of the LORD's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. Lamentations 3:22</i></p>NRIGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02709704269988589729noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4692466642142573450.post-69913085932594498302014-02-12T22:29:00.000-05:002014-02-14T08:18:28.515-05:00Love found<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNtLmScSuCdZ2U8ZdtXUXnwp5Mx2zCpThu-4IBiO1GXudEnapoEClwpWJPCurFjX3LJlRWip7Dp1AKd1vZ_pwhKBjoMb33JNdEu4s9bSVzP7dWXAeOIm6I52x81fCBHJ-aKQAkvASt3k4/s1600/love.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNtLmScSuCdZ2U8ZdtXUXnwp5Mx2zCpThu-4IBiO1GXudEnapoEClwpWJPCurFjX3LJlRWip7Dp1AKd1vZ_pwhKBjoMb33JNdEu4s9bSVzP7dWXAeOIm6I52x81fCBHJ-aKQAkvASt3k4/s1600/love.jpg" height="200" width="192" /></a>You see the concept of love was vague those days. Love in my simple mind then was all receiving. What would I get when I found love, was what I cared for.<br />
<br />
First I would find love. Sure. Then would follow a huge teddy bear. An enormous card with the biggest paper heart. Dozens and dozens of red roses. Loads and loads of love letters.<br />
<br />
Lots and lots of tears. Why? Because I would be dying and he would be crying. I would survive. Later he would be dying and I would be crying. He would survive. <i>(see what effect some movies can have on us?)</i> We would then live happily ever after.<br />
<br />
Of course, with more teddy bears, roses and tons of other tokens of love to follow...<br />
<br />
Sure found love at last! Then happened life! Child rearing, career building, house keeping and up keeping rolled in one after another and all over again! Love as I had imagined was nowhere to be found.<br />
<br />
Teddy bears did come - when I had least expected them, when the children were born. They sat squarely in the middle of the living room for a while, later moved to the bed room, then to the kids rooms, but now lie forever forgotten in some closet corner. <br />
<br />
Roses too arrived, but it took many years and some tears. When they came spontaneously though didn't know what to do with them. Just plop them in a vase and go about the days business. No time to ponder over, freeze them or preserve them. At least click a picture? Okay, click! Now move on! After a week or so toss them out and continue to move on... It fails to spark new excitement, you see. It mocks the shed tears and makes the younger me look silly for wanting them in the first place.<br />
<br />
Loads and loads of love letters - now that is one thing that did happen and continues to happen<i> (though in miniature post-it notes form)</i>, but with a twist - they are mostly from me! <br />
<br />
About dying though we had discussed it once; when we were contemplating a Will. I offered my side of the family would care for the children if something ever happened to the both of us. He countered his side of the family would indeed. At that point we decided, we would both live - no matter what! So we live. we love. happily till now. hopefully for years to come. <br />
<br />
The concept of love is somewhat clearer these days. Love in my simple mind now is not at all about what I receive; but what I give. Respect, love, forgiveness, a good meal, an encouragement, a good night's kiss, less nagging, more appreciation - simple things of course; but this is it! This is love! All giving! generous. selfless. expecting nothing in return. never. ever.<br />
<br />
Love has been found. Not as imagined, better!<br />
<br />
I am sure yours too. So why not, happy Valentines Day! Isn't it for everyday?!<br />
<br />
<br />NRIGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02709704269988589729noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4692466642142573450.post-2630181302855144472014-02-01T01:53:00.000-05:002014-02-01T08:30:34.781-05:00Lost in the WoodsJust got back from the woods at Walden Pond where Thoreau spent nearly two years experimenting life at it's simplest form, in solitude, mostly at leisure, seasonal gardening, some reading and a lot of writing. <br />
<br />
The year was 1845. Thoreau sets off to clear some woods around Walden pond, the land that belonged to his mentor Emerson, with a borrowed axe. After a few weeks of cutting and hewing and toiling alone he has made his house in the woods, built by his own hands just like the birds do. On July 4th, the Independence day, he moves into his new boarding, with his nearest neighbor a mile away.<br />
<br />
This house at once invites you in. The simple living, the minimal furniture, the songs of birds, the frogs at the pond, his bean field, some reading material, visiting travelers, left behind notes, passing trains, walks to the village, concerned few, suspicious others, keep it lively.<br />
<br />
Of all the people he mentions about there are two I wish I had met. They have such a resemblance to people I have met in my own childhood around Karinkal Grandma's neighborhood.<br />
<br />
Here's to introduce them to you, in Thoreau's own words:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
An elderly dame, too, dwells in my neighborhood, invisible to most persons, in whose odorous herb garden I love to stroll sometimes, gathering simples and listening to her fables; for she has a genius of unequal fertility, and her memory runs back further than mythology, and she can tell me the origin of every fable, and on what fact every one is founded, for the incidents occurred when she was young. A ruddy and lusty old dame, who delights in all weathers and seasons, and is likely to outlive all her children yet... </blockquote>
&
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
...To him Homer was a great writer, though what his writing was about he did not know. A more simple and natural man it would be hard to find. Vice and disease, which cast such somber moral hue over the world, seemed to have hardly any existence for him. He was about twenty eight years old, and had left Canada and his father's house a dozen years before to work in the States, and earn money to buy a farm with at last, perhaps in his native country.<br />
<br />
He was a skillful chopper, and indulged in some flourishes and ornaments in his art. He cut his trees level and close to the ground, that the sprouts which came up afterward might be more vigorous and a sled might slide over the stumps; and instead of leaving a whole tree to support his corded wood, he would pare it away to a slender stake or splinter which you could break off with your hand at last.<br />
<br />
He interested me because he was so quiet and solitary and so happy withal; a well of good humor and contentment which overflowed at his eyes. His mirth was without alloy. <br />
<br />
I heard that a distinguished wise man and reformer asked him if he did not want the world to be changed; but he answered with a chuckle of surprise in his Canadian accent, not knowing that the question had ever been entertained before, "No, I like it well enough".
<br /><br />
It would have suggested many things to a philosopher to have dealings with him. To a stranger he appeared to know nothing of things in general; yet I sometimes saw in him a man whom I had not seen before, and I did not know whether he was as wise as Shakespeare or as simply ignorant as a child, whether to suspect him of a fine poetic consciousness or of stupidity. A townsman told me that when he met him sauntering through the village in his small close-fitting cap, and whistling to himself, he reminded him of a prince in disguise.</blockquote>
I am sure now you are lost too, in Thoreau's Life in the Woods. It is a great place to be after all, for few minutes at a time, if not for the whole two years as tried by him. The best place to start I believe is right in our backyards.<br />
<br />
Enjoy then! Have loads of fun! When you see the dame or the man though, please send in for me; I would love to greet.<br />
<br />
<br />NRIGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02709704269988589729noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4692466642142573450.post-55312166931506425692013-12-12T15:42:00.000-05:002013-12-13T13:50:25.311-05:00Angel in the house<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUd997NWO4fQibDXQVKBieYZotu8vKZYh7K2s8YiLp5GS1NASe5dgQshYl_e3-F4V7GfQpd83K7YOJN8MPCNkkapqOo8N8Zotgvhts4hGE0308WrW8FJEzCfdsrGpMZbTiB8yRW3PYlfU/s1600/angel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUd997NWO4fQibDXQVKBieYZotu8vKZYh7K2s8YiLp5GS1NASe5dgQshYl_e3-F4V7GfQpd83K7YOJN8MPCNkkapqOo8N8Zotgvhts4hGE0308WrW8FJEzCfdsrGpMZbTiB8yRW3PYlfU/s200/angel.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a></div>
I wish I could take full responsibility for the negligence of this blogspace; but in reality I would blame it all on the Angel in the House.<br />
<br />
Because it was the Angel in the House that stood between my pen and paper, rather the keyboard and my blog, slicing and dicing every single thought that came to my mind, to the point it made no sense to share what was left over. <br />
<br />
She appeared too suddenly, lurking in the corners and pouncing upon the thoughts even before they made it to print. Occasionally when they made it to the print, she would say I talk too much, sound childish, and am seeking attention, whereas only the opposite was true. I was talking less, growing up and reaching out. <br />
<br />
"You don't really want to share that, do you?" she would ask; and quickly decide for herself I didn't want to. She would say things like, "that is silly", "this is boastful", "save it" or "no one wants to hear it". <br />
<br />
She wouldn't take any protests. She talked a lot, listened less, and never sympathized. She didn't care for my cry stories she would say. She said ladies ought to behave certain way and she was teaching me that. <br />
<br />
I had managed to write a nice letter once from an airplane during my business travel. Another I wrote from a train. She didn't want to hear any of it.<br />
<br />
"Why do you want to tell them that?", she demanded. "Well, why not?", I countered. She didn't like that, not one bit. She simply scratched it off, tore it to pieces, hit delete and shut down. <br />
<br />
She hardly smiles. Pretends to be all grown up; but I am sure she can't be a day older than me. <br />
<br />
It is hard. I must say very hard; life under her powerful wings. <br />
<br />
I try to break free but to no avail.<br />
<br />
Even this is an attempt to resurface from these depths. Can someone hear me? Please help me out!<br />
<br />
Now, before she stalks me again, let me click publish!<br />
<br />
<i><u>Note:</u> Virginia Wolf, however, had killed her Angel in the House. Her <a href="http://s.spachman.tripod.com/Woolf/professions.htm" target="_blank">Professional Women</a> is one of my favorite essays. <a href="http://s.spachman.tripod.com/Woolf/professions.htm" target="_blank">Here's a link</a> if you are interested. Please read if you can spare a few minutes...</i><br />
<br />NRIGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02709704269988589729noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4692466642142573450.post-42787231751997836632013-11-01T10:54:00.001-04:002013-11-05T13:07:56.268-05:00Three Cups of Tea <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdt4fQ0rVoiGAxvaCyYaXjM7sNnzKfizNXGe8guWM1SiNIlGa9AG19G26zLXEE_1ZFvont51gYdJJUlb7XvYxR5Iy8fd9Ewm7ncQo3riIJqJQTOVUOJFNven4T18aHVpRrq0sWcCwZH4E/s1600/SathiapooAmmal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdt4fQ0rVoiGAxvaCyYaXjM7sNnzKfizNXGe8guWM1SiNIlGa9AG19G26zLXEE_1ZFvont51gYdJJUlb7XvYxR5Iy8fd9Ewm7ncQo3riIJqJQTOVUOJFNven4T18aHVpRrq0sWcCwZH4E/s320/SathiapooAmmal.jpg" width="320" /></a>Three Cups of Tea talks about how Greg Mortenson, an American nurse, a former mountaineer, ended up building dozens of schools across rural Pakistan. It sure motivates one to do something.<br />
<br />
Greg wrote 580 letters to famous people. One responded. That single response met all his needs for his very first school! $12,500 in the year 1993. <br />
<br />
Few years ago I had envisioned tailoring schools and medical clinics in rural Tamil Nadu.<br />
<br />
Kudankulam - Mom's native place, could definitely use a tailoring institute. Always there is a demand for tailors in India. Girls could be self employed with tailoring skills. Or may be even we could employ them to work on orders from local market. <br />
<br />
Manjuvilai - Israel's native has no medical clinic. A baby had died
in the recent years on the way to a doctor's office about an hour and a half away. This
can't be. We must intervene. Can't we do something? Build a
shed? Talk to friends who are doctors? Make them visit couple of hours a
week? Can't we employ a doctor?<br />
<br />
Tirunelveli Government Hospital
is such a pity sight with metal beds, rusted equipment, dirty floors,
cobwebbed ceiling. Can't we gather hands and paint the walls? Clean the halls? Something? Anything? To make it better?<br />
<br />
I had reached out to most my friends. They
rejected my plea. "Why bother? Take care of your kids. Indian
Government has enough money. Let them do it", they said.<br />
<br />
I felt so inadequate and helpless having found no one to share my vision. I began to doubt my intent. What was I after? Was I seeking my own fame? What really did I expect in return? <br />
<br />
When the urge got stronger, I decided to do a simple test. I would reach out to a handpicked list of friends and family. If my initial need for ten sewing machines were met, I would be assured of my vision. If not, I would let it pass.<br />
<br />
I sent out emails and waited. Weeks went by. No response. Neither good nor bad. It was like no one received my letter. Absolute silence. I was torn. I decided I had no true friends after all. If I did, wouldn't they have written back one way or another? Even if they didn't help couldn't they wish me luck?<br />
<br />
On the verge of giving up, I received a single response to my hundreds of emails. <br />
<br />
A friend donated funds for all 10 new sewing machines! My call was confirmed. After all, it was not my own fame I was seeking. What a relief!<br />
<br />
My sister came forward and offered for us to use our Grandma's house which she had inherited. Two family members also donated their used sewing machines. Surely I was at the height of joy.<br />
<br />
My cousin did all the ground works. He renewed the house, repainted the walls, covered the well, made the announcements, hired the staff. With that we have started on our new adventure, in my Grandma's house in Kudankulam, in Grandma's name.<br />
<br />
Sathiapoo Ammal Tailoring Institute opened on my birthday in August and that was the best gift ever in all my life. Because this time we were giving back! <br />
<br />
Heart of hearts I do believe this is only the beginning... <br />
<br />
<br />NRIGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02709704269988589729noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4692466642142573450.post-87139453521598684032013-09-19T12:17:00.000-04:002013-09-19T21:14:50.777-04:00You know what I would do?You know what I would do?<br />
I would first post the blog post I had written a week ago<br />
Then what I would do...<br />
<br />
I would start from the upstairs<br />
My closet<br />
Separate the clothes - clean vs dirty<br />
Wash the dirty ones<br />
Fold the clean ones<br />
Put them away<br />
<br />
Then what I would do..<br />
I would quickly clean the master bath<br />
Then Israel's closet<br />
That would be a breeze<br />
<br />
Then I would move on to the children's rooms<br />
I would first make their beds with clean sets of sheets<br />
I might even rearrange the furniture a bit<br />
To give the rooms a fresh new look<br />
They would love that, won't they?<br />
<br />
I would quickly check their closets<br />
Making sure things are in place<br />
I would gather all the dirty clothes<br />
Hiding under the bed, behind the doors, atop the beds<br />
Wash them all<br />
Fold them all<br />
Put them away<br />
<br />
Then I would quickly clean their bathroom<br />
Empty the dust bins<br />
<br />
Then what I would do...<br />
<br />
I would come downstairs<br />
Starting with the windows<br />
Draw the curtains; all the way<br />
Raise the windows <br />
So fresh air and bright sun can come in<br />
<br />
Remove the dead leaves from the plants<br />
Water the plants<br />
Tidy up the front rooms<br />
Quickly wiping down the powder room<br />
<br />
I would then take out the fish to thaw<br />
Putting the lentils in the pressure cooker<br />
Setting the rice cooker to delay cook in few hours<br />
I would then empty the dish washer<br />
And also reload the dish washer<br />
<br />
Clear the counter tops<br />
Of books, pencils, crumbs, comb, Bible,<br />
What not?<br />
<br />
Then what I would do?<br />
I would make myself a nice cup of coffee<br />
Sit back and relax<br />
In my sparlkly clean home...<br />
<br />
This is what I would do <br />
If I had some time...<br />
<br />
For now what I would do<br/>
I would sigh <br />
Post this on the blog and <br />
Just move on with this flow called life<br />
<br />
What else could I do?<br />
<br />
<br />NRIGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02709704269988589729noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4692466642142573450.post-5748448036016278632013-07-19T09:47:00.002-04:002013-07-19T10:12:17.513-04:00Ship Ahoy!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDVEptSXQjstnN-X7vEnx8k4_Bvemu4ERViwC1zp7ii6Q7cLEyiaWk2zKjKdfk4tfaXtHpVo6_hN8FImKaUUpXxTOiRC8X41qKaoUSmJ83LlmT6P2VkxDFqwKquMS-JJRM5R7L1_-vFRM/s1600/ahoy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDVEptSXQjstnN-X7vEnx8k4_Bvemu4ERViwC1zp7ii6Q7cLEyiaWk2zKjKdfk4tfaXtHpVo6_hN8FImKaUUpXxTOiRC8X41qKaoUSmJ83LlmT6P2VkxDFqwKquMS-JJRM5R7L1_-vFRM/s1600/ahoy.jpg" /></a>I have been sailing lately, hence my absence from the blog world. <br />
<br />
Ever since I'd reluctantly picked up Richard Woodman's Wager - a tale of two racing ships, from China all the way to London carrying a cargo of tea in the mid 1800's, I haven't been able to get off the ocean. Like a current it pulls me in, making a "sailor" out of me.<br />
<br />
I have gone ahead and purchased the complete maritime collection by Richard Woodman; thanks to ebay I got it for a fraction of it's original price. I highly recommend these books to anyone who is "land sick" and could use some ocean breeze. <br />
<br />
Switching gears I had read Little Bee an escapade of an African refugee in England, Gifted Hands - an autobiography of Dr. Ben Carson, Pseudonymbous Bosh's The Name of this Book is a Secret, and lately To Kill a Mocking Bird by Harper Lee. Catcher in the Rye is lining up next. <br />
<br />
These came at a time when I had feared I had lost interest in printed material altogether. I am so glad I have not. It is like opening the flood waters, my reading adventure, have been lost in their worlds completely. There are worlds to visit, oceans to sail, races to win, secrets to keep, growing up to do, among books.<br />
<br />
I am sorry I have missed your posts. Tons to catch up I am sure and promise to visit you all soon. However, if the wind is right I might just start sailing again... You take care; I will be back!<br />
<br />
Until next time,<br />
<br />
~ NRIGirl<br />
<br />
<br />NRIGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02709704269988589729noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4692466642142573450.post-18797298697055025762013-06-01T11:31:00.002-04:002013-06-01T17:36:00.254-04:00Hi there!"I am no one famous. Know no one close. But I love my life. I guess that's enough reason to write my memoir..." I had just finished writing these lines when the bell rang. It took a minute or two to register it was the alarm that just went off. It was 5:38 AM. <br />
<br />
"Either set it to 5:30 or 5:40, what is this at 5:38? I only like waking up to a round number..."; I had suggested rather annoyingly to Israel many times. He hadn't felt any rush to change it. <br />
<br />
May be it wasn't a good enough reason to demand I only liked waking up to a round number. Or may be, just may be, he didn't like the tone of my voice. Or could be that he meant to say, <br />
"... then you change it yourself". <br />
<br />
So it was, 5:38 AM.<br />
<br />
When I realized I was only writing in my dream, I quickly made a mental note to start my memoir with these exact lines - if ever I write one, and went about the day's business.<br />
<br />
For the rest of the morning and well into early afternoon my mind had lingered on only one thing, <i>"What would I name my memoir?"</i> Finally settled for, <i>"The Me I see"</i> Author: NRIGirl. Perfect!<br />
<br />
It was everywhere. The News channels were talking about it. Amazon had rated it in their Monthly Top Picks. Oprah's network was calling for a possible interview. My blog was exploding with traffic that Blogger couldn't handle it; they had to temporarily shut down the site...<br />
<br />
The business I was trying out, suddenly picked up. It became a huge success with people calling for franchise offer from everywhere. It was a difficult decision - to franchise or not? Settled for, 'NOT'. <br />
<br />
The mission outreach was tremendous too, with donations pouring in from all over, needs met all around the world...<br />
<br />
I figured it was all a continuation of the dream, the dream that had woken me up this morning, but only that it is called daydreaming now, or even wishful thinking. <br />
<br />
But then why does it seem so real - at an arm's length? <br />
<br />
All I had to do was just reach, and it would be there.<br />
<br />
Just wake up, and it would be mine.<br />
<br />
I wonder if it is okay to dream at this hour? <br />
<br />
At the dawn? <br />
<br />
At the cusp of one's forties? <br />
<br />
At 5:38 AM?<br />
<br />
During the day?<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />NRIGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02709704269988589729noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4692466642142573450.post-50274151321891496682013-04-12T16:02:00.003-04:002013-04-12T16:03:28.818-04:00A toast to Benin & Prayline <a href="http://www.praylinbenin.wedsite.com/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgH74e4BQ7pfXM5DUsV5pys92vCUdFaacSH9CIbnr7mF6b4WPvzwwzYtF6Ob2lbOb77C75R2lbmjFucMATSZ_BQHtaE_q3SbMG_3an2j-Qe7C81-8FrM25rt8z2F3K0pvYUPEg3-Qulqo/s1600/PraylineBenin.jpg" /></a>Dear friends, family members, guests, and the most revered members of the clergy, I greet you all in the precious name of our Lord Jesus Christ! All glory and honour be to God, our Father.
It is my pleasant privilege to introduce to you the two families of the bridal couple.<br />
<br />
The bridegroom’s parents are my friends and the bride’s parents are my family members. Both the families are very dear and near to me. It is written in the Holy Bible that a friend who lives nearby is better than a brother who lives far away. Also it is written that a brother is born to help us in our day of trouble. Thus both the families are equally important to me and I stand here belonging to both the bridal families.<br />
<br />
The bride, Prayline, is the only child to her parents. Her father Mr. Mohandhas is retired defense personnel and now he is working as Assistant Manager in Tamil Nadu Ex Servicemen Corporation at Chennai. Her mother Mrs.Hepsiba Berla Rani is a retired teacher. They live in Ambathoor, Chennai. Prayline has completed her Bachelors in Dentistry, BDS, and has worked as a dental surgeon in a private clinic at Chennai. The parents have brought up their only child in Christian faith with strict discipline inculcating in her good moral and ethical principles.<br />
<br />
The bridegroom Benin Azariah’s father Dr. Stephen Azariah is a PhD degree holder and he is working as a senior PG assistant in St. John’s Hr. secondary School, Palayamkottai. Benin’s mother Mrs. Hana Stphen is working as a professor and head of the department of Mathematics in Sarah Tucker College, Palayamkottai. She has almost completed her doctoral thesis in Mathematics and shall obtain her doctorate degree in the near future.<br />
<br />
Benin has a younger brother Benon Azariah, who is completing his graduate studies in Electrical and Electronics Engineering from PSG college of Engineering, Coimbatore and is already having a job at hand through campus interview. He is very much interested in studies and he would rather go for higher studies than accepting a job.
The parents have brought up their two sons with a strong faith in God.<br />
<br />
They both are musically talented and they play keyboard and violin. They both are in the Church choir along with their father. They were made to memorize and recite the golden verses every Sunday even from their early childhood up to the time they left for their higher studies. Their mother is an ardent lover of the Bible and she lives by the Word of God.<br />
<br />
Benin Azariah did his graduate studies in Information Technology at Panimalar college of Engineering, Chennai and has completed his post graduate studies in Australia where he wishes to continue his career as an engineer. His wife Prayline accompanies him to Australia and there she will continue her career as a dental surgeon.<br />
<br />
Though I am very close to both the families, this marriage proposal did not come through me. I am very sure that God Himself has united Benin and Prayline and their two families. What God has united, He is sure to bless.
I wish the new couple all the best in life.<br />
<br />
Dear Benin and Prayline, as you enter into your wedded life, here is a word of advice from me. There is a verse from the Bible which goes like; much is expected from him to whom much is given.
Both of you are given much love, much affection by your parents and a few other people in your family.<br />
<br />
Much sacrifices are made, much money is being spent by each of your parents. Much of their time and energy and strength have been spent on their knees for your sake. Much of their tears were poured out in God’s feet beseeching Him to bless you and your family life. You have received much from them.<br />
<br />
Also you have received much from your God. Your loving parents, your relatives, your well wishers, your friends, your health , wealth and happiness, your joy of salvation, your faith, your peace that passes all understanding, and all other good things you have are gifts from God. There are many more blessings you are going to receive from Him.<br />
<br />
You have received much and so in return much is expected of you. It is not that they did all these things expecting something from you. But it is a rule set by God. When you have received much, you are expected to pay back much. It is not only paying back to them from whom you have received, it is passing on what you have received for the benefit of others who need them. Always remember this.<br />
<br />
May God bless you much.<br />
<br />
Thank you all, have a good time!<br />
<br />
P.S: My Mom Mrs. Yohapushpam Livingston's toast in Benin & Prayline's wedding today. Posted mainly for friends and family who are far away from related celebrations.<br />
<br />
NRIGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02709704269988589729noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4692466642142573450.post-27829080634370856312013-03-27T09:03:00.003-04:002013-03-28T00:07:29.374-04:00I am sorry<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNG4KdoRbo4OuflS7wxsR9Bk1-YPV4ydDVUqHNzPlh0G_7UApqdp7Pxb6Om0Ci5Ozj0DohyQNWAYB2GuMDpckURChYdTkDMBdut0aPI7bUA9aHa-W7L-5XDq7eK7yphYBxqy7bCZweWyQ/s1600/sorry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNG4KdoRbo4OuflS7wxsR9Bk1-YPV4ydDVUqHNzPlh0G_7UApqdp7Pxb6Om0Ci5Ozj0DohyQNWAYB2GuMDpckURChYdTkDMBdut0aPI7bUA9aHa-W7L-5XDq7eK7yphYBxqy7bCZweWyQ/s200/sorry.jpg" width="200" /></a>Waiting for my evening bus at Port Authority a couple of days ago, a lady walked up to me and asked if I could spare her a dollar; she was hungry. I instantly said, "I am sorry".<br />
<br />
My reasoning was that I didn't have a $1 bill; but only a few $20's. I did not feel like extending a crisp $20 as I have done several times in the past out of a sudden emotion I had felt for the "needy", only to be fooled days later encountering the same few with different "needs".<br />
<br />
I was being smart this time. They can't fool me again!<br />
<br />
The lady moved on to the next person in the line, then to the next and so on. No body extended their hands. When she was at about the 5th person from me suddenly I began to panic. <br />
<br />
What if she was really hungry? What if no one gave? So what if she might be a cheat. She looked hungry. The more I thought of her the more restless I felt. <br />
<br />
I recalled all those coins I might be able to find in my bag -
if I cared to look. Dropping my other belongings on the floor I frantically began to search. In a moment I had found a handful and was glad to spot a few quarters in it too.<br />
<br />
I wasn't going to count, I would hand it all to her, I told my self.<br />
<br />
When I looked up, she was gone!<br />
<br />
I looked as far and wide as possible but she was nowhere to be seen.<br />
<br />
Nowhere! <br />
<br />
I am sorry.<br />
<br />
I truly am. :(<br />
<br />NRIGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02709704269988589729noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4692466642142573450.post-28572960175130084062013-03-02T22:50:00.004-05:002013-03-03T20:02:07.097-05:00And the Liebster Award goes to...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmsMngpewcXrl3pmkDniNqSRolD4rAdK2Q9C4ufsnZWNSWN9QyRmkAkRHOyk8ZJikqyU9-idpZoTk0Md3Glf-Wrv-51Fjp4I5WpH2hm5PofqXBMFHEb1d3_-JuTfHuE5LcQBGSumuu6iQ/s1600/LiebsterAward.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmsMngpewcXrl3pmkDniNqSRolD4rAdK2Q9C4ufsnZWNSWN9QyRmkAkRHOyk8ZJikqyU9-idpZoTk0Md3Glf-Wrv-51Fjp4I5WpH2hm5PofqXBMFHEb1d3_-JuTfHuE5LcQBGSumuu6iQ/s1600/LiebsterAward.jpg" /></a>Here's the deal. <br />
<br />
To accept the Liebster Award <a href="http://anilkurup59.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;">Anil of Musings</span></a> had passed on to me, I had to first answer his list of questions; then pick the bloggers to pass on the award to and also post 11 questions for them to answer. <em>(By the way, Liebster means dearest in German.)</em><br />
<br />
So here we go...<br />
<br />
<strong>Anil had asked...:</strong><br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><strong>Q</strong></span> Are you proud of your country, if so why and if not why? <br />
<span style="color: red;"><strong>A</strong></span> I have a strong affinity; but proud, I am not too sure.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><strong>Q</strong></span> What have you given back to the world you live and or what do you intend to give in your life time?<br />
<strong><span style="color: red;">A</span></strong> Grow some trees.<br />
<br />
<strong><span style="color: red;">Q</span></strong> Are you afraid of death?<br />
<span style="color: red;"><strong>A</strong></span> Not mine; but others yes.<br />
<br />
<strong><span style="color: red;">Q</span></strong> If you were to meet God in real life what would you do?<br />
<strong><span style="color: red;">A</span></strong> Hug Him tight and kiss Him on the cheeks.<br />
<br />
<strong><span style="color: red;">Q</span></strong> Would you want to make the future not mysterious?<br />
<strong><span style="color: red;">A</span></strong> No.<br />
<br />
<strong><span style="color: red;">Q</span></strong> Will you stand up for banning capital punishment, if not why?<br />
<strong><span style="color: red;">A</span></strong> Yes. <br />
<br />
<strong><span style="color: red;">Q</span></strong> What would you like to be if given a choice- King, an elected ruler or a fascist?<br />
<strong><span style="color: red;">A</span></strong> Queen :)<br />
<br />
<strong><span style="color: red;">Q</span></strong> Would you like to be like somebody? If so why and if not why?<br />
<strong><span style="color: red;">A</span></strong> Not really. I perfectly like being me.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><strong>Q</strong></span> Do you think emotions are for weaklings? If not why?<br />
<strong><span style="color: red;">A</span></strong> No. It takes courage to make known the real you.<br />
<br />
<strong><span style="color: red;">Q</span></strong> What is in your opinion the reason for the misery in the world?<br />
<strong><span style="color: red;">A</span></strong> Lack of love.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><strong>Q</strong></span> If there is another life what would you want to be a, Male or a Female?<br />
<strong><span style="color: red;">A</span></strong> Dog; gender no bar. <br />
<br />
<strong>And the award goes to...:</strong><br />
<ul>
<li><a href="http://eye-in-the-blue-sky.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;">Eye in the Sky</span></a></li>
<li><a href="http://windyskies.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;">Windy Skies</span></a></li>
<li><a href="http://adithyasaravana.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;">Conversations with Myself</span></a></li>
<li><a href="http://mytravelsmylife.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;">My Travels; My Life</span></a></li>
<li><a href="http://irfanurs.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;">Apniboli</span></a></li>
<li><a href="http://gigihawaii.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;">Gigi Hawaii</span></a></li>
<li><a href="http://momwithadot.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;">Mom with a Dot</span></a></li>
</ul>
<br />
<strong>Take it away by answering the following questions:</strong><br />
<br />
<strong><span style="color: red;">Q</span></strong> How have you been?<br />
<strong><span style="color: red;">Q</span></strong> What is one word that best describes you?<br />
<strong><span style="color: red;">Q</span></strong> Are you in love with life? <br />
<strong><span style="color: red;">Q</span></strong> What is your favorite color? <br />
<strong><span style="color: red;">Q</span></strong> Are you famous? <br />
<strong><span style="color: red;">Q</span></strong> Do you dream?<br />
<strong><span style="color: red;">Q</span></strong> Tell me a joke?<br />
<strong><span style="color: red;">Q</span></strong> What are you upto these days?<br />
<strong><span style="color: red;">Q</span></strong> What is one book you would suggest I read?<br />
<strong><span style="color: red;">Q</span></strong> If we were to run into each other would you smile and wave?<br />
<strong><span style="color: red;">Q</span></strong> Any questions for me?<br />
<br />
With that Anil I gladly accept my award! Thank you!<br />
<br />NRIGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02709704269988589729noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4692466642142573450.post-13831287730270761012013-02-15T08:51:00.000-05:002013-02-15T15:15:45.069-05:00Ameen's Jordan<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5cAdV4yXftYKijp7pGrd3bKwdyh2W7gCge-Z3bPIXc-cuDL8ujWLVDPlL0-wNmyxtHN9oXruxpzwgvpdKiSotkKb3iwtp9khn6bV1p4lGGXM-Sc-TpxVRcjwGBvp1IU_BK6ZWjYiwHEw/s1600/Jordan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5cAdV4yXftYKijp7pGrd3bKwdyh2W7gCge-Z3bPIXc-cuDL8ujWLVDPlL0-wNmyxtHN9oXruxpzwgvpdKiSotkKb3iwtp9khn6bV1p4lGGXM-Sc-TpxVRcjwGBvp1IU_BK6ZWjYiwHEw/s1600/Jordan.jpg" /></a>Ameen is from Jordan. He drives taxi in Boston. I had hired his cab to pick me up from South Station to my hotel enroute Costco in Everett as I needed some basic stuff I forgot to pack. The bridge was packed. The 5 miles trip took closer to 30 minutes one way which gave us ample time to converse. The following is what I hear of Jordan from Ameen.
</div>
<br />
Jordan is a beautiful place, mostly at peace with her neighbors. Amman is the most populated and everywhere else population is sparse. Jordan doesn't have oil or gold but agriculture thrives.<br />
<br />
The Jordan river used to be huge but now too shallow that you could even cross over by foot in some parts. The river dumps into the Dead Sea where all the life it brings dies. <br />
<br />
You actually float in the the Black Sea (or Dead Sea). The only thing to watch out for is your eyes as the water is so concentrated that if it gets into your eyes you can't see anything clearly. When you are done "swimming" in the sea you will take a shower in the hot water springs to remove the salt from your skin, if not you will look like a pillar of salt when you dry.
<br />
<br />
Amman is among seven hills where it snows. But river Jordan runs in the valley which is warm and sunny. It is roughly 25 miles from the hills down to the valley and most people go there for picnic - even on a daily basis. After work they grab some food, get their family and go down the river to spend a few hours of warmth.
<br />
<br />
Jordanians are closely knit families. Even though Ameen's Mom lives alone every morning his brothers visit her on their way to work and evenings they stop by on their way back home only to be back an hour or so later with their complete clan to spend more time.
<br />
<br />
Ameen's Mom visits him every now and then. She says American women are more modest than most women of Jordan in the present days. Even Ameen was shocked to see when he visited home few years ago that most expensive smoking houses were filled with women. Men always smoked, but for women it was considered a taboo. <br />
<br />
Ameen's family has plenty of boys. They are 8 kids of which 7 brothers and one sister. And each of these brothers got 3 or 4 or more sons but every one has one daughter. Ameen himself is a father of 3 boys and a girl. He speaks proud of his daughter - how she always loves him more, awaits his return in the nights, receives him with a hug, etc.
<br />
<br />
Ameen's wife is from Jordan too. Cooks wonderful food. Buys meat, cleans it herself, processes it and packages it for the entire season. Everyday she cooks. She loves flowers too so she grows them, roses of red, yellow and pink, hydrangeas etc. She loves her little son a lot as they spend most of their time together. He is only 4.
<br />
<br />
Ameen had picked up a vase full of red roses for his wife for Valentine's Day from Costco. He seems a nice guy. So much in love with his family, his countries of both past and present. <br />
<br />
At the end of my ride he drove cheerfully off thanking me for the wonderful conversation we just had. I assured him the pleasure was all mine.<br />
<br />NRIGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02709704269988589729noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4692466642142573450.post-76081569069970651272013-01-11T23:28:00.001-05:002013-01-12T16:43:32.221-05:00Lordy Lordy Look who is Forty!<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-fgxREYj1N46BDdzQWxny-crv0tewxOPcS0w-ES7hiA1XHye5y4BnalUFxbCKHdYFGUk4-L2zJioUFQzRqlcLeiuNfBCY3qZfNq5KqN4avVLMXGVKDSdvSFwVPb6iKk9qCfiGa6Y8jzw/s1600/redbook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-fgxREYj1N46BDdzQWxny-crv0tewxOPcS0w-ES7hiA1XHye5y4BnalUFxbCKHdYFGUk4-L2zJioUFQzRqlcLeiuNfBCY3qZfNq5KqN4avVLMXGVKDSdvSFwVPb6iKk9qCfiGa6Y8jzw/s200/redbook.jpg" width="200" /></a>Almost there. This is the year.<br />
<br />
I can vividly remember August 10th 2003. It was a Sunday. I was upset over turning 30. I thought it was an ugly number to begin with. Feared my life of fun was over. From then on, I had reasoned, I would only become ugly, unlikable and life would soon be over... It was suffocating. Worst of all my parents forgot to call and wish me!<br />
<br />
After Church I called them - crying. Papa said, "We were just talking about you, looking at the clock waiting for you to return from Church so we could call. Happy Birthday Queenie <em>makka<span style="color: red;"><strong>*</strong></span></em>...". When they heard I was upset about the number 30, at first they laughed and then went on to explain what a beautiful number it was and how blessed I was to be turning 30. <br />
<br />
Though I wasn't fully convinced I took it on me to be 30, one day at a time. Before long the year was over; I realized it wasn't bad after all. Rest of the years went by without further ado. Fast forward to now, here I am excited to be on the verge of the 30's series, looking forward to my 40's! <br />
<br />
A lot has changed in me in the last decade. The child in me gave way to a more beautiful woman. Each day has been a refining process leading to clear thoughts, clearer conscience, increased confidence and more contentment. <br />
<br />
I have forgiven people, forgotten their offenses and moved on. This happened almost overnight. Could a simple prayer do all that wonder?! All those arguments going back and forth in my mind about things of past were completely erased. Poof! Vanished!<br />
<br />
At first I had tried to fight it back."Bring at once my Book of Records of all wrongs ever committed against Me the Great", ordered part of me. The HUGE cart holding the book was rolled in, the seal was broken, the book was opened. The pages were blank!<br />
<br />
"Oh no! this can't be! Don't let go, don't cave in, don't forgive, no not them, not their words; now take a breather, recall everything, every little bits of it, put it back, the records, the proof, proof of when you were right and they were wrong, proof of when you were right no matter what, everything, build your case bit by bit, nice and strong; easy, now seal it up, roll it safe!" the rest of me demanded.<br />
<br />
But it was over. Done. Dealt with. Forgiven, myself including. The book had shrunk, disappeared, gone, out of sight, never to be seen or heard of again since then. It is no more. It hurts no more. Surprising but true; my heart has healed!<br />
<br />
I believe 40's will be more refining, making me, molding me, breaking me, fixing me, searching me, trying me, tuning me and turning out more rewarding. <br />
<br />
I could spend it all up in one sitting; instead I have decided to take it slow - one day at a time.<br />
<br />
So, here we go 2013! Bring it on!<br />
<br />
<em><span style="color: red;"><strong>*</strong></span> makka means child in colloquial Tamil</em><br />
<em></em><br />NRIGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02709704269988589729noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4692466642142573450.post-37857925165975982782012-12-19T20:45:00.001-05:002012-12-19T21:52:32.722-05:00Season's Greetings!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKtiLdauPJ5hyphenhyphenLRg-u5HSYn3Oz83icgzI0a8vU27PG8TvmZq1Re7xlFBMGqV-00zmOcqAbWlYGW8dLqhyB5fNP2W1xnoqbOxw8kSFWvpAKjJjoOsDwu833r1waLO9-m_ugHCZzq6-J_TQ/s1600/Santa's+List.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="167" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKtiLdauPJ5hyphenhyphenLRg-u5HSYn3Oz83icgzI0a8vU27PG8TvmZq1Re7xlFBMGqV-00zmOcqAbWlYGW8dLqhyB5fNP2W1xnoqbOxw8kSFWvpAKjJjoOsDwu833r1waLO9-m_ugHCZzq6-J_TQ/s200/Santa's+List.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Dear All: Season's Greetings!<br />
<br />
I am sure you are all caught up with the chaos that goes hand in hand with the 'ushering out the old and ringing in the new.' I have been busy myself cleaning out the closets, writing out some letters, finishing up some books, carolling few Christmas bells etc. <br />
<br />
Many a times I wanted to share my state of mind but due to one reason or other you have been spared. To tell you the truth, I have suddenly become conscious of what I "speak", to whom I speak and why I speak. It is very unlike me; however as I have shared in recent times the "me" is ever evolving - if you would allow me I would like to use the word 'refining'. Hopefully it is all for the better.<br />
<br />
I have been reading this great book "Maiden Voyages" which is a collection of lady travelers from various era. I especially love the excerpts from their journals & letters describing their journey. I am sure Kavita, Tracy and Anil Kurup would enjoy these as much as I do. <br />
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On the non-fiction side I am reading about Accountability and enjoy sharing the tips with Israel who is not into reading books but appreciates the insights I share from reading. <br />
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Children are behaving and have made it to the 'Nice List'. We really truly wish to buy them cool gifts though they haven't demanded for anything. We are still brainstorming ideas.<br />
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The year has been exciting overall. Quebec train trip, Florida visit and Virginia apple farms are the best memories we carry forward from 2012. It is also a year of new beginning for <a href="http://www.coffee-with-jesus.com/" target="_blank">Coffee with Jesus</a> as it has been trade marked and incorporated in 2012. <br />
<br />
I believe the best is yet to come! Wishing you the same!<br />
<br />
Friend always,<br />
~ NRIGirl<br />
<br />NRIGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02709704269988589729noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4692466642142573450.post-16883432733399916962012-11-27T16:04:00.001-05:002012-11-27T16:14:40.648-05:00Just some windows...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9bOaomNSnAhYm1Hl5QVuX_7UmydjmbtD1DuHNsp0Hhm3WDfcajiNBqy5izGSeX7W7vrvwG6JeifVpneobJS4E_hMzLKzXhXV5kk47caC3UKvmXrNc3u3WQ7UAeptLCE3gfBZ-KkYOcFc/s1600/NYC-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9bOaomNSnAhYm1Hl5QVuX_7UmydjmbtD1DuHNsp0Hhm3WDfcajiNBqy5izGSeX7W7vrvwG6JeifVpneobJS4E_hMzLKzXhXV5kk47caC3UKvmXrNc3u3WQ7UAeptLCE3gfBZ-KkYOcFc/s640/NYC-2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
The sky is completely gray. I don't feel great either. Often there seems some correlation between the two - the sky and my mood - one reflecting the other - the latter commencing the former most often.
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There have been times when I have been excited about gray sky - just like this one or even grayer - but not today.
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As I look through the window at the nearby windows, I can't help but wonder who is trapped in there - just like I am trapped in here. If it were entirely up to me, I would set them all free including me.
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Funny we thought of windows as we built these monstrous structures to box us in. Whoever thought it would be the only glimpse we could see of the world around us! Windows of trains, cars, house, phones, computers...
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Have you noticed village homes lack many windows? Don't you think nomads were richer than us folks? They had this wide open world to live in, to breath from, to cherish much and then pass it on...
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What have we got? Just some windows!<br />
<br />NRIGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02709704269988589729noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4692466642142573450.post-89303745143522724502012-11-21T13:27:00.002-05:002012-11-21T13:27:49.548-05:00You have got mail! <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio2IkdaxtAGlxBvV2CdluTNh6ympbRGHRMdymN0LCApTEdpaC7Tq7SMJuJrZiBY7nfCvUAVTFtliq5ZPoOYDPuPqNpCjU6njUcISIHUDBdOrk_4G53ggCg1SnrzdIXxnmu478haNTikyM/s1600/YGM-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio2IkdaxtAGlxBvV2CdluTNh6ympbRGHRMdymN0LCApTEdpaC7Tq7SMJuJrZiBY7nfCvUAVTFtliq5ZPoOYDPuPqNpCjU6njUcISIHUDBdOrk_4G53ggCg1SnrzdIXxnmu478haNTikyM/s640/YGM-1.JPG" width="467" /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVIWEIsIhGz-ifnNL14M0hGDfTSRM_pVFdGpogHYW_1DdMHzPshMvHxtljUKYoirZcMZSuPPI4T3UVLYc8q7TmPk-20QHxtpOSlaAMsZ-YuHrethexkRcEArytMh5fD1VNlhegZJrs6rQ/s1600/NYC-1.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVIWEIsIhGz-ifnNL14M0hGDfTSRM_pVFdGpogHYW_1DdMHzPshMvHxtljUKYoirZcMZSuPPI4T3UVLYc8q7TmPk-20QHxtpOSlaAMsZ-YuHrethexkRcEArytMh5fD1VNlhegZJrs6rQ/s400/NYC-1.jpg" width="400" /></a>
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NRIGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02709704269988589729noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4692466642142573450.post-86102535749425950182012-10-29T10:39:00.001-04:002012-10-29T10:42:19.791-04:00Awaiting Sandy<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVCOmPFYexLrh7UbaO8R5-kZfl_N0dwUaPGmQwoVivInt8LsOh18fJb72-ED3zVV6DRTS_QXDXGhfPUBkn9M49vKW0V-Wn3ONi35P_P5Ch-XEcvfIB8Zpha0iZLBZoIPKbQT0g6T3Ha20/s1600/Sandy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="126" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVCOmPFYexLrh7UbaO8R5-kZfl_N0dwUaPGmQwoVivInt8LsOh18fJb72-ED3zVV6DRTS_QXDXGhfPUBkn9M49vKW0V-Wn3ONi35P_P5Ch-XEcvfIB8Zpha0iZLBZoIPKbQT0g6T3Ha20/s320/Sandy.jpg" width="320" /></a>As Hurricane Sandy is barreling closer to the shore, we are all prepared with bottled water, batteries, flash lights, gas etc. Children are off from school today and tomorrow; we are working remotely - as long as power stays on.<br />
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Our town, situated in the northern mountains of the State is at 1020 feet above the sea level and has the largest fresh water lake named Lake Hopatcong, spreading about 4 square miles which accounts for 10% of the town's area.<br />
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Gov. Chris Christie - Governor of NJ has declared a State of Emergency, lowering the reservoir of Lake Hopatcong and other water bodies to be able to sustain the onpouring rain. Coastal towns such as Barrier Islands, Altantic City, Ocean City, Sandy Hook and few other low lying areas have been ordered evacuation. For others who haven't been ordered to evacuate, we are to stay off the roads and stock up on food, water, medicine and other supplies needed for survival.<br />
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Sandy is a serious storm - about 500 miles in diameter affecting the entire East Coast - from the Carolinas all the way to New England; making a land fall in New Jersey. It is 10:30 AM EST right now; 2:00 PM is when it is expected to land.<br />
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As of now we have heavy winds and mild rain; that's all. However, it could very well be the calm before the storm... <br />
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Thanks to all of you who have reached out via emails and phone calls. We are fine; will keep you posted as Sandy passes.<br />
<br />NRIGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02709704269988589729noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4692466642142573450.post-88758485906701401872012-10-25T23:13:00.000-04:002012-10-25T23:15:18.844-04:00Heaven on Earth!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpqi7ActvIWlR-hWl96Xlq0gSLYihGL_1L17KH7nl3OkDLgb__kH7yNt663YZCEe-B3kNJPLcUctt45GyVRv5xcimK06HKaipBY-IkJ_udhjmwWOKKOuUHPHdxddnMBIev0RSJY24tBk8/s1600/carter+mountain+orchard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpqi7ActvIWlR-hWl96Xlq0gSLYihGL_1L17KH7nl3OkDLgb__kH7yNt663YZCEe-B3kNJPLcUctt45GyVRv5xcimK06HKaipBY-IkJ_udhjmwWOKKOuUHPHdxddnMBIev0RSJY24tBk8/s1600/carter+mountain+orchard.jpg" /></a>Is this heaven on earth? Absolutely! It is Carter Mountain Orchard!<br />
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Apple picking isn't new to us; but apple picking in Carter Mountain Orchard was a unique experience! <br />
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Carter Mountain Orchard is located in Charlottesville, Virginia on a huge mountain. As you drive up the mountain you would wonder how is it even possible to grow apples in such a mountain. The roads are almost perpendicular to the sky(!) and it sure feels like you are driving up to heaven!<br />
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Once up there, you would forget you are on a mountain top as the ground is leveled flat. Yet the view of the rest of the Virgnia down below is amazing! There is also a huge vineyard where you can pluck your own wine grapes and press it into wine. Unfortunately we didn't have the time to visit there.<br />
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Last weekend when we visited they had Winesap and Fuji variety of apples for picking. Both were delicious. Upon entry you are handed a plastic bag for picking your own apples. You are allowed to eat as much as you want, for no cost. For the ones you decide to take home with you, you pay a reasonable price of $1.99 per lb.<br />
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The hay ride is $3.00 per person and they take you all the way around the apple trees. It was a fun experience traveling with my cousin and aunt & family. <br />
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They also sell apple cider donuts which are made right in front of your eyes and you can eat it fresh & still warm. It is absolutely delicious and we finished two dozenn donuts in a few minutes! Cousin Bibin was so kind to get us black coffee which went so well with the donuts.<br />
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If you ever happen upon Virginia, I strongly recommend you visit Carter Mountain Orchard. If you are far away to "ever happen upon Virginia" no worries; I will take you along the hay ride. Hop on in and hold on tight! Here we go...<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="480" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/NuRgNW4OkP0?rel=0" width="640"></iframe>
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Heaven on earth indeed - is it not?!
NRIGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02709704269988589729noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4692466642142573450.post-1405359555355993312012-10-19T13:18:00.000-04:002012-10-19T20:54:43.795-04:00Fall so far...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The weather is crisp. Like an apple. Fresh. Juicy. Inviting. It is Fall! <br />
<br />
Here's to share some technical information I had read in the Farmers Almanac: <br />
<br />
<blockquote>
<em>September 22nd was the official first day of Fall this year. It was also the Autumnal Equinox when day and night were each about 12 hours long; the Sun crossing the celestial equator going southward; rising exactly due east and setting exactly due west.</em><br />
<em></em><br />
<em>From then on the temperatures begin to drop and the days start to get shorter than the nights. Winter begins with Winter Solstice on December 21 at 6:12 AM. EST this year marking the shortest day of the year, when the Sun reaches it's most southern point in the sky at local noon. After this date, the days start getting longer.</em> <br />
<br /></blockquote>
With a month of Fall behind us and Winter looming forever closer, people have started talking about Christmas already! Even businesses have started piling up on Christmas decor! This is quite different from most years as we won't normally have a sight of it all until after or closer to Thanksgiving. Mums are in full bloom. Even chestnuts are in stores! It's like everyone has fast forwarded their clocks by two whole months! OR could it be that I am far behind?! Possible. <br />
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I am - or rather my taste is - changing by the day. Uggs have become my latest fancy. Till last season I shunned it like anything; but now I "must have" it! I can't even wear it to work as jeans are off the list. I am better off with a tall black leather boots which can be worn with almost anything; but ask me which one I would rather buy I will say, "Uggs!". What's wrong with me?! I myself can't understand. So I have put off buying till I can fully figure out my state of mind.<br />
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Children can't wait to wrap up on Soccer season and begin with Basketball. They love Basketball over Soccer by many folds. I think it is because the Soccer fields are unnecessarily big and too tiring on the kids. Worst part is having to sit in the cold outside to watch the game compared to the cozy interiors of a basketball court.<br />
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Israel is experimenting with his moustache. Last weekend he shocked us by going without it and these days it has morphed into a French beard. Interestingly I like it all! <br />
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There are plenty of babies to visit over the next couple of weeks amongst friends and family. Hearty "Welcome Aboard" to Baby Jeyashree, Baby Vanitha & Baby Samuel! More than anyone our children are excited as they are of the age where they love love love all babies.<br />
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So, life moves on. Hope all is well at your end too.<br />
<br />
Somehow my thoughts these days only flow in the form of letter writing, so I am thinking of a brand new series called "You've got Mail!" in which I will randomly pick on you to write to. Hope that is okay with you.<br />
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Stay tuned...<br />
<br />
<br />NRIGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02709704269988589729noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4692466642142573450.post-72858196257867783052012-09-27T12:57:00.002-04:002012-09-27T12:57:23.837-04:00Letter to KParthasarathi<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />NRIGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02709704269988589729noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4692466642142573450.post-65433099665859431132012-09-20T21:35:00.001-04:002012-09-21T06:08:38.435-04:00Treasures<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
Treasures </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
By Rachel Israel</div>
<br />
Have you ever had a collection or treasure; something that was not sumptuous in value but had a very sentimental meaning? Well when I was little I used to love collections. I thought they were the coolest things ever. I had many collections, but today I will just tell you about my favorite three.<br />
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One of my favorite collections were beads. I loved how you could basically make any accessory you wanted to with them. I had a small musical box full of them. I put beads into the wooden box whenever one of my bracelets or necklaces broke. With those beads I could make another bracelet and replace it. I loved how each bead was unique. I never actually made any bracelets with these unique beads; so my box is still full of them!<br />
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Another one of my collections were snow globes. My mom got me many from gift shops in special places or different states that we visited. My snow globes are arranged from biggest to smallest on my dresser. Many of my snow globes have intricately designed pedestals that tie into the miniature theme of the globe. They also played calming melodies when you twist a little knob underneath it. <br />
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My most colorful collection was octopi. They were made with beads and melted to perfection with an ironer. Well actually, I wouldn’t say “to perfection”. Many of them, although pretty, were demented. Some of the legs have fallen off and have been glued and ironed back to the octopus in the wrong direction. Actually, I think that’s why I like them even more. They are special to me and every time I look at them hanging on my mirror; I remember the sentimental story behind it.<br />
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These are things that many people wouldn’t care for, but to me they mean a lot. These are my collections!<br />
<br />
P.S: Found it in my computer, an article by Rachel written for school this year. Thought I'll save it by posting it on the blog...<br />
<br />NRIGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02709704269988589729noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4692466642142573450.post-15664363960182985412012-09-14T12:57:00.000-04:002012-09-14T16:55:30.726-04:00A crying soulIt is lunch time now; but my mind keeps going back to this morning. <br />
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I was busy reading my book (Open by Agassi). Suddenly I hear this voice, "I want to sit". She is a lady. Neatly dressed in a hospital attire, may be a nurse or attendant or janitor I can't tell. African American. About fifty years young.<br />
<br />
Being Friday there are plenty of empty seats in the train; but she seems lost and repeats, "I want to sit". A good soul across from me braves to help her, "Here", she says pointing to the seat next to her, "You can sit here". She takes the offered seat thanking her.<br />
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She starts a conversation, "I am tired you know. Kind of giddy. I worked all night!" The good soul acknowledges her with her "mhm"s and "ahang"s. <br />
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Then suddenly she asks, as if waking up from her sleep, "What time is it anyway? Is it morning or evening?"<br />
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"Morning! Almost nine!", comes the response.Good soul gets down in the next station.<br />
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As the train starts to move she is getting panicked, "Is this train going Uptown or Downtown?"<br />
<br />
Someone answers, "Downtown"<br />
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Moments later she asks, "Which station is this?" I answer, "14th Street". She asks me to repeat. "14th Street!" She thanks me. <br />
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And then suddenly she starts to cry. It is audible in spite of the noise of the train. I take a side way glance at her. She is searching frantically in her bag, tears rolling down, crying - audibly.<br />
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<i>"What is it? Are you okay? You lost something? Are you lost?"</i> I think of different ways I could reach out to her; but I remain silent like the rest of the New Yorkers.<br />
<br />
The train comes to a halt. It's my stop. 8th Street. I get down. Walk away.<br />
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She lingers on... still crying...
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<br />NRIGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02709704269988589729noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4692466642142573450.post-42859932858679489792012-08-24T16:50:00.000-04:002012-09-14T13:00:55.209-04:00Thumbelina and familyHad a rare sighting of Thumbelina and her adorable family this afternoon and couldn't resist sharing the pictures with you...
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKpB8NpdTebG7EcmtHnxIZRXNA42zfnRUqt5pPIIzFrrJ0tkgWiuxAwjFvCYHAKFIO9rmO3iGmURbKDRml_HUDAEd_ypojfOjQP-ahL0NBuZiNs-ArpOuUS1bFFsZEdbGFDhQCaVB8w5c/s1600/Time.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKpB8NpdTebG7EcmtHnxIZRXNA42zfnRUqt5pPIIzFrrJ0tkgWiuxAwjFvCYHAKFIO9rmO3iGmURbKDRml_HUDAEd_ypojfOjQP-ahL0NBuZiNs-ArpOuUS1bFFsZEdbGFDhQCaVB8w5c/s200/Time.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">When was it?<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkbVAfjQ0EaeFJS08TlfWkXQmY4kOnlOEnU7Gu3-gGJFHvM_gduZh9bsWxnKgvjG3GXTzTOAPz2idwd-zfNx_fO-Cnt-FIlK9cj9xRGnxtN-9-WfO8CZTAMo036w-VTHtBn4kUMLT1jkA/s1600/Idea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkbVAfjQ0EaeFJS08TlfWkXQmY4kOnlOEnU7Gu3-gGJFHvM_gduZh9bsWxnKgvjG3GXTzTOAPz2idwd-zfNx_fO-Cnt-FIlK9cj9xRGnxtN-9-WfO8CZTAMo036w-VTHtBn4kUMLT1jkA/s200/Idea.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Where was it?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8rQQRhz96tt74GB5eWA2qKRBHATJXH7hvKD1J7lqPvgdSyfTHbJ_kExCY6UKk2ZSN1_PnNoxoOCCJj-RPYHdys0ydeslUNvBv3kQ_-d8kqEm0gsdWLYqjNUNRVWmwb6KC7kOd9krIL1g/s1600/Family.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8rQQRhz96tt74GB5eWA2qKRBHATJXH7hvKD1J7lqPvgdSyfTHbJ_kExCY6UKk2ZSN1_PnNoxoOCCJj-RPYHdys0ydeslUNvBv3kQ_-d8kqEm0gsdWLYqjNUNRVWmwb6KC7kOd9krIL1g/s200/Family.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Israel, Sharon, Rachel & Joshua!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkbVAfjQ0EaeFJS08TlfWkXQmY4kOnlOEnU7Gu3-gGJFHvM_gduZh9bsWxnKgvjG3GXTzTOAPz2idwd-zfNx_fO-Cnt-FIlK9cj9xRGnxtN-9-WfO8CZTAMo036w-VTHtBn4kUMLT1jkA/s1600/Idea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5QjNbIn-Xwwuf5VL8c6wPSIyt0uUTEgbb_9QW2hgGCGx5S-nl-OjwGhe5KmjjpLdXPfoWhlC6RMzbgYF-rGIl1PcF-HsSZnSJnCMgY4vV_WmVp80ebIs9fN4SvYHQJg7xwbEy7Rbz_Fo/s1600/Thumbalina.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5QjNbIn-Xwwuf5VL8c6wPSIyt0uUTEgbb_9QW2hgGCGx5S-nl-OjwGhe5KmjjpLdXPfoWhlC6RMzbgYF-rGIl1PcF-HsSZnSJnCMgY4vV_WmVp80ebIs9fN4SvYHQJg7xwbEy7Rbz_Fo/s200/Thumbalina.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who was it?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO6vkXKEQrow8xZRdA3TFcJu43yt9JTbW39DPPa5PPkawOrmxK_A1KT7jdYWNPXQLtQLFneNfNKVW60DIQUaraVFxaw-rp4Q6nGQJ3W2S_zEwwCUWojsBxDEpFGfj_VMYqC8uJ2Jl3d64/s1600/Thumbalina-Family.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO6vkXKEQrow8xZRdA3TFcJu43yt9JTbW39DPPa5PPkawOrmxK_A1KT7jdYWNPXQLtQLFneNfNKVW60DIQUaraVFxaw-rp4Q6nGQJ3W2S_zEwwCUWojsBxDEpFGfj_VMYqC8uJ2Jl3d64/s200/Thumbalina-Family.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Them all!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Now freeze that smile! It looks great on you! <br />
<br />NRIGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02709704269988589729noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4692466642142573450.post-62544653435412032562012-08-23T16:36:00.000-04:002012-08-23T21:24:22.546-04:00What have you got?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR_o2S5Hh5s_QGae9rN325N6QNb1z4biqCmxH_XNjzGDKjHTY-MVCzhiy6J6zgmPyKOpTemERiy7rECV4OfzLSrzbtO4cT5tx_7Ubi6hQKhvH_f8oH0Usyq50tFLCG7mNBawS59cMDETY/s1600/tigger-with-eeyore.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR_o2S5Hh5s_QGae9rN325N6QNb1z4biqCmxH_XNjzGDKjHTY-MVCzhiy6J6zgmPyKOpTemERiy7rECV4OfzLSrzbtO4cT5tx_7Ubi6hQKhvH_f8oH0Usyq50tFLCG7mNBawS59cMDETY/s200/tigger-with-eeyore.jpg" width="192" /></a></div>
Nine years ago on my birthday (August 10th) I'd spoken to my Papa last. Four days later Papa passed away.
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Life has lost it's luster since then. The sky appears a shade greyer the grass a tint paler, my heart somewhat harder and my head a bit heavier (I guess it is a byproduct of the harder heart). <br />
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Overall life as I knew it is sadly changing.
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Living, loving and laughing came natural to me then; now it takes effort. To draw comparison from Winnie-the-Pooh it's like going from a jumpy jolly care free Tigger to a grumpy, moody Eeyore is how it is trending.
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Pause, clarify, repeat was how our conversations went then unlike the hurried to-the-point "conversations" of now...
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I feel stranded at times with everyone rushing around me, in their own course of life, with less time to talk, lesser still to listen and none at all for the details.
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Often times I find myself rushing too, rushing thru' the day's events, rushing thru' traffic, rushing thru' conversations...Why such a hurry? Where am I going? No clue. <br />
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Then I was a child, now I have grown; that's the only reasoning I could think of.
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So today for a change I am going to kick back - all the way back - and relax. So, tell me what have you got? Whatever I missed please bring it on!<br />
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Fondly,<br />
~ NRIGirl
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<br />NRIGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02709704269988589729noreply@blogger.com10