Soul To Body – A book review

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I love to read.  I don’t make as much time for it as I would like because I am consumed with writing, but when I do ignore the incongruously fueled ideas that seep into my conscious hours I love to immerse myself in the written expression of others as consumed by words as I am.  I have been fortunate to meet many talented writers and genuinely nice people on this blog site.  And I also consider myself lucky to have read some of their published works.

I have written my amateur review on Amazon and wanted to share it with you in hopes that you would read the books written by this talented author, Lance Burson from My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog.

Let me start this review by saying I began reading this book one evening after work and continued reading until it was finished.  I couldn’t put it down.

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Soul to Body is a compelling tale of love, loss and recovery.  Lance takes us on a journey through a memory portal and back as a man struggles with losing his wife and coping with raising a daughter while finding the strength to move forward.  Thoughts of his past sprinkle his present with poignant memories of his wife and he struggles to carve a path to the future that will please, not only himself but, his daughter and extended family.

It is a well constructed story of our connections to those closest to us and feeling lost within ourselves.  The characters Lance has created go beyond a mere story line and, as you delve further into the book, you become emotionally invested in the outcome of their journey.

If you haven’t already downloaded your copy, I highly recommend it!

A little witty banter

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Small talk is an art form.  It is the informal banter that covers no functional topics of conversation yet seems to fill the void of silence. People generally find dead air uncomfortable and prolonged periods of silence can be unbearable.  Regardless of whether or not we know the person, something compels us to bring up some inane conversation and we generally state some very obvious rhetoric to pass the time.

Small talk is a social skill that some have honed over the years and others struggle with it on a daily basis.  Perfect strangers may feel comfortable enough to talk about things on a more personal level but the bulk of small talk is made up of conversations about things as uninteresting as the weather.  Who knew we all had such an obsession with meteorology?

Depending on where you are when engaging in small talk you can certainly make it more interesting than the state of the atmospheric pressure and relative humidity.  It doesn’t have to become completely personal but you can lift the mood of someone’s day by having an intriguing conversation about something they weren’t planning to discuss with a stranger.

Make the first move and initiate some witty and enlightening repartee that will leave both of you in higher spirits.  Compliments are always welcome and interjecting some kind words into your small talk will go a long way.

Don’t let your cartoon balloon of small talk remain empty.  Fill it with something that will make people think and will allow them to leave your presence with a smile on their face.  Be original and be appealing but most of all keep it simple and honest.  You never know what new connections you could make by starting with an elementary bit of small talk.

I’ve been bitten

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The Christmas spirit bug has ruthlessly stalked me and finally dug its long incisors into my flesh.  I feel like the Grinch after his “A-Ha” moment and my heart has grown three sizes and then some.

As you may have read in an earlier post, we came up with the idea to do the first ever toy drive at Shamrock Lodge this year and the response has been overwhelming, to say the least.  Not just toys have entered our Muskoka lodge, but monetary donations have been flowing in from all over the map.

I had the fun of shopping on Thursday at our local toy store where ALL toys are 50% off – so not only did we get to buy toys for the kids, we got twice the number of toys than originally anticipated!  Win, win.

Today is the day we deliver the first round of toys to the OPP Toy Drive and make what will be the first of two contributions this year.  The money is still coming in and people have until the 20th to drop off toys to the lodge.

I hope this bug bites me every year!

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Waterfall, what? – Trifextra challenge

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The basin at the bottom of the waterfall would always dazzle my reality and expand my myopic view of what beauty can truly look like.  The naked man swimming there didn’t hurt either.

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~~

(image credit: hunkdujour.com)

And on again to the weekend Trifextra Challenge:  On to the weekend prompt. This weekend we’re asking you to add thirty of your own words to the following three words for a total of thirty-three. Good luck!

myopic
dazzle
basin

– See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.xTpk2xs6.dpuf

The real me

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If you want to know the real me, the true essence of my being, read my words.  I live in a world of people.  I engage with people every day of my life and I present a mere part of myself but, if you want to know me to the core of my vitality, read the words that I have written.  Those words are me.  Those idioms and poems somehow define me by using words I could never use on a daily basis.  Those phrases and ideas bring more of me to the surface than simply seeing me in three dimension.   Those words are my truth.

I connect with people emotionally and physically but, on a much deeper level, I spiritually connect with words.  Their subtle nuances paralyze me.  Their deep meanings leave scars that carve a map of my journey.  Their richness fills me and leaves me satiated.  I could be poor in monetary means the rest of my days but I will be rich if I still have words.

I am a slave to my passion, a victim of the alphabet that forms phrases in my mind.  Words wake me from slumber and force themselves into my conscious thought.  They wrap around me, enlivening me with their embrace.  They saturate the white noise in my brain.

Words will always bring the real me to the surface.

A worthwhile journey

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Today my brother, sister-in-law and I spent the better part of the afternoon moving the remaining pieces of furniture from my mom’s house into their winter storage spot.  The house will be going on the market shortly and we need to store the rest of her belongings while we get her opinion and decide what to do with them.

Emptying the trinkets from the larger hutches had me looking over my shoulder a few times for the TV crew from the show Hoarders, but it was only the three of us and the overwhelming presence of nostalgia.  As each set of glasses or bowls was uncovered I was transported back to my youth.  It amazes me that a glass dish contains the power to bend time.  So many memories are locked in the tiny particles that make up those dishes and just holding them in my hands brought those moments rushing back.

Subtle whispers from past holiday meals escaped from a simple gravy boat.  Recollections of chocolate pudding with a graham wafer crust and whipped cream were etched into a set of glass bowls.  Hidden photographs spoke volumes as they escaped their incarceration in an old shoe box.

Each flashback was just as special and having my brother there to share them was time that I will treasure. Having the afternoon to stroll down memory lane was worth fending off the below zero temperatures as we loaded the trailer several times to empty a house that used to be a home.  And even though I don’t have room in my house for any new dishes, those things may find their way into my cupboards so I can listen to those voices from the past a few more times.

Through the eyes of a legend – Trifecta Challenge

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The classified ad was very succinct.  It didn’t use the word employee, it specifically used the word companion.  I wasn’t in the position to be picky about my job prospects or possible accommodation so I made the call.

I rang the bell and could hear the shuffling beyond the door frame.  It took her several minutes to reach the entrance and when the door swung open I was shocked by the state of her physical being.  She stood all of four feet tall, hunched and emaciated, and her skin could pass for a road map.  An oxygen tank hung haphazardly from a metal pole and she spun the wheels around to move it out of my path so I could enter the house.

Unsure of what I was about to face, I stepped across the threshold and closed the door.   The house was warm and smelled of cinnamon – nothing at all what I expected.  The walls were adorned with black and white photos and an old phonograph was scratching out “In The Mood” by Glenn Miller.  Her demeanor was welcoming and she ushered me into the living room where the smiling faces of Clark Gable, Fred Astaire, Ginger Rogers and Joan Crawford watched as I took my place on the settee.  I felt like I had gone back in time.

The service required of me was simple.  I was to transcribe her life as an understudy in the 1930’s and make sure the world read her story and, not only knew her but, remembered her.

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The official age on her death certificate was 106 years.  She had lived over a century and only through her words did I understand the vast world she had seen change over her lifetime.  As I write this preface to her story, I am reminded of her spirit and her failure to relinquish her dream of fame.  It came too late but she finally got her wish.

~

Word count -323.  Image Credit – health.howstuffworks.com

Written for the Trifecta Challenge:  On to the weekly prompt.

1:  one that accompanies another :  comrade, associate; also:  one that keeps company with another
2obsolete :  rascal
Remember:
• Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.
• You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.
• The word itself needs to be included in your response.
• You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above.
• Only one entry per writer.
• If your post doesn’t meet our requirements, please leave your link in the comments section, not in the linkz.
• Trifecta is open to everyone.

– See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.bNnsoN4o.dpuf

A Christmas Present for myself

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I have reached an age that family, friends and I agree that spending a lot of money on each other at Christmas is no longer necessary.  The true spirit of the approaching holiday is about spending time together and not reaching too far into that budget to pay money for things that we don’t need.  We have adhered to that rule and the only money that exits my bank account over the festive season is for my nephews.

This year I blurred the lines a little and bought myself a gift.  It really has been a while since I splurged on something that may seem frivolous, but something I have wanted for quite some time.  So I opened the purse strings, threw caution to the wind and pressed that magical button on my computer screen.  What happened afterwards reminded me of how I felt as a child when I got that gift I had put at the top of my list for Santa.  In less than a month, I will be sitting 10 rows back from the stage to see The Tenors perform live.

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(image credit: composersinredsneakers.org)

If you are familiar with my blog, you will know how deeply I care about music.  I have eclectic tastes when it comes to my collection of tunes, but I am always drawn back to these voices.  The song they are singing in that video was co-written by my dear friend Kenny Munshaw, another very talented artist and songwriter, and the song was written to raise money for the Big Brothers / Big Sisters organization.  If you care to purchase the song on iTunes, fifty cents from each download goes directly to the organization.

The cost of this ticket in regards to my budget made me second guess my decision, but only for a fleeting moment.  I was made painfully aware today how short life can be by hearing of tragedies befalling a few families I know.  This is an opportunity that I don’t want to regret by not taking.  I may even get a chance to make it backstage after the show to meet Remi, Clifton, Fraser and Victor (and Darryn Neville!) and that will be the gift that will keep on giving.

Santa, you can scratch me off whatever list you had me on…..this year I got everything I wanted!

Requesting a favor

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Hello to all of my blogging, Facebook and Twitter friends.  I am appealing to you for a bit of help.  I have started a new blog for Shamrock Lodge (my new job) and would love and appreciate it if you could check it out and follow if you could.  The more exposure we get, the longer I get to keep my job.  😉

Here is a picture of where I get to go every day to work, and below is the link to the new blog site.

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Shamrock Lodge

One part water, one part rabbit, one part nuts

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In the 1987 movie “Fatal Attraction” Glenn Close convincingly plays an intelligent, articulate career woman with a penchant for revenge when her love is unrequited.  This was a very politically correct way of describing the insane nature of her character.  Near the pinnacle of her breakdown, Alex, played by Close, breaks into the house belonging to the object of her obsession and basically makes a soup stock out of the family pet.  My friends and I would use the phrase “bunny boiler” for many years to come after seeing this film.

Alarmingly, they do truly exist.  I’ve met some of them.  Perhaps they were not pressured to the point of bringing a pot of water to a scalding boil and stewing the family pet but they seem to wreak havoc in their own mind-boggling ways.  Obsessive behavior runs rampant and the clear and decisive nature of a normal human brain becomes more of a chapter in a research book than anything remotely resembling their reality.

Instinctively, most men can spot these women a mile away.  When the behavior pattern of a woman deviates from her usual likes and dislikes to mirror his – he becomes moderately suspicious.  When she begins randomly showing up in places that he frequents or becomes obsessed with the hobbies or sports he is into – alarm bells begin going off at top decibel.

I have always felt an inkling of sorrow watching these situations unfold.  Being able to remain rational during the beginning stages of a relationship while maintaining your sense of self is difficult.  Maintaining that rationale at the conclusion of that relationship is overwhelming, but it can be done.  Sure you may have wanted, with every fibre of your being, to be a perfect fit for the object of your affection but it doesn’t always work that way.  Relationships are about learning more about yourself and being able to blend your strengths with another person.  Giving up your interests to absorb theirs will only make you lose yourself in the process.

If relationships were easy, we would learn nothing about ourselves and what truly makes us happy.  It is the bumps in the road and those unexpected detours that make us truly think about our ultimate happiness and how much of ourselves we are willing to lose on that journey to self-discovery.   The failure only comes when you are not true to your heart and true to your beliefs.  Becoming something other than your genuine self will only negate the process of discovering that true happiness.

I do believe that I have gained enough wisdom at my age to know when the subject of my attention has a vested interest in the qualities that I possess.  I have learned to be grateful for my wit and intelligence and I have faith that they are qualities that someone will appreciate as they are – not a warped version of them to blend into the color palette of their life instead of my own.  I have finally learned the value of being myself.  It took a while to get here, but the pilgrimage was worth the sacrifices along the way.

With that knowledge in hand, I can go forth into my next relationship knowing that I put my self-worth first and, more importantly, that their pets will be safe from harm.