Is this a costume or every day wear? Or both?
A story told by Astrid Lindgren[Author of Pippi Longstocking]
“Above all, I believe that there should never be any violence.”
In 1978, Astrid Lindgren received the German Book Trade Peace Prize for her literary contributions. In acceptance, she told the following story.
“When I was about 20 years old, I met an old pastor’s wife who told me that when she was young and had her first child, she didn’t believe in striking children, although spanking kids with a switch pulled from a tree was standard punishment at the time. But one day when her son was four or five, he did something that she felt warranted a spanking–the first of his life. And she told him that he would have to go outside and find a switch for her to hit him with. The boy was gone for a long time. And when he came back in, he was crying. He said to her, “Mama, I couldn’t find a switch, but here’s a rock that you can throw at me.”
All of a sudden the mother understood how the situation felt from the child’s point of view: that if my mother wants to hurt me, then it makes no difference what she does it with; she might as well do it with a stone. And the mother took the boy onto her lap and they both cried. Then she laid the rock on a shelf in the kitchen to remind herself forever: never violence. And that is something I think everyone should keep in mind. Because violence begins in the nursery–one can raise children into violence.”
I think that too often we fail to feel situations “from the child’s point of view,” and that failure leads us to teach our children other than what we think we’re teaching them.
Published by permission of Saltkrakan AB, Lidingoe, Sweden, owner of all copyrights to Astrid Lindgren’s works.”
Save the spankings for consenting adults.
I think I have a one-track mind here.
Kind of a headstart on Christmas, but since I already have my Christmas tree up and lights on it, and bringing out the decorations next week; between the pandemic quarantine and my limitations demanding more time do anything, it seems acceptable.
And now I’ve learned that my cousin, Amber Stevens West, has a new movie coming out for Christmas and premiers on October 24th on Lifetime.
And the only thing I love more than Halloween is Christmas… Thanksgiving is 3rd in line.
Anyway, giving people a heads up on this new Christmas movie. I haven’t seen it but I love my cousin so I’m sure I will love the movie too.
1 pint cranberry juice
1 cup water
3/4 cup sugar
1 cinnamon stick
6 whole cloves
1/2 lemon peel, cut into strips
3/4 quart (1 bottle) Burgundy wine
2 tablespoons lemon juice
Syrup can be made ahead. Combine cranberry juice, water, sugar, cinnamon stick, cloves and lemon peel in large saucepan. Bring to a boil. Stir until sugar is dissolved. Simmer gently 15 minutes. Strain.
Combine syrup with wine and lemon juice; heat, but DO NOT BOIL. Serve in preheated mugs with a sprinkling of nutmeg. The syrup can be made ahead, kept in the refrigerator and combined with the wine and lemon juice before serving.
I thought it was just a dream, but it really was a visitation, to a parallel universe, in a different realm, in a higher dimension. A place that the people who lived there called “The Place”. And my home was called “Your Place”. And I was a Stranger in a Strange Place. At first, I thought this was another planet, but I realized it was much more than that as I looked around and wandered around. Was this the otherside, what some people called Heaven, and others called Nirvana, and still others called The Summerlands? There was no war in this world, no politics, no religion, no marriage, no money. People worked at what they did best and what interested them. Everything was shared with the community at a central market place. There was no greed, no jealousy, no anger, no aggression. The calm and peace amongst the residents here were incredible, but the intense energy was even more. People came to the market place and took home what they liked, what interested them, what they wanted. Everyone knew that in the end, it all balanced out. Computers and electronics were important for education and entertainment. When something went wrong with them, the owner would simply ask a tech to fix it, who would enter quietly, fix the problem, and then go on their way. The most surprising of the culture here was the idea of sex. Sexual expression was the primary way of interacting with one another… it was for fun, for entertainment, sometimes just simply a way to say thank you. There was no stigma attached to it, no matter how it was practiced. This amazed me most of all. Where I came from, people were judged the most harshly about what they did or didn’t sexually. The people here engaged in sex as casually as we hugged someone or shook their hands. There was no need to keep it behind closed doors because everyone here was also very psychic.
Which meant they knew what you were doing anyway. Because of their psychic abilities, there was no lying, no stealing, no physical attacks. The concept of forcing oneself on another was so foreign. No molestation or rape ever occurred here; everything was by complete consent by all parties involved. The people of my world, most of them anyway, would be shocked in the different directions these sexual desires manifested. Of course, I knew in my world, aspects of these kinds of sex acts happened too, but they were kept very quiet with few people talking about it, even among themselves. Here it was just the opposite. Everyone would know if there was an aggressive act on anyone; their psychic abilities made sure of that. On the infrequent occasions that someone did commit a crime like this, the only punishment was death. There was no discussion about it, no defense, no courts, no lawyers. There was also no denial about it. The person admitted their guilt, and death was carried out quickly, but with great reverence and respect. This brought up the idea of death and birth here. Was death grieved? If there was so much sexual activity, was their birth rate very high? Who took care of the children? The people who acted as my guides, and these changed often, at first looked at me like I was speaking a language they didn’t understand and then nodded when they finally did comprehend my questions. They all soon realized that I couldn’t read their minds like they could mine, so they would have to use their voices to explain their traditions to me.
When one guide handed me off to another, they would communicate this need to them, so eventually, they would stop looking at me so strangely. Death was something they took quite seriously, even the death of someone who died as punishment. They grieved the loss of the person as if they had lost a part of themselves, for that is how they saw it. Each one of them is a cell in the larger body, the body of the whole community, perhaps even the body of a Higher Power, and of God, as that was how they saw themselves, as God. It is not a God as a deity off in some lofty place, but each of them as God him or herself and as a part of the whole God. Some people in my world consider this to be a concept called the Christ-consciousness, with “Christ,” meaning “knowing”, but not necessarily in regards to one person. When someone died, either because of the rare crime or it was their time, they celebrated the soul returning to the otherside, reuniting with their friends and family there, and preparing for a new journey. They see life in “This Place” as a journey, a vacation. So it was then that I learned this was not Heaven as I often imagined Heaven to be, but more like an aspect of the otherside.. each one stepping stone of life experiences that souls take each time they incarnate somewhere. My dimensional world, one of the lower dimensions, was just one of many… how many no one could tell me. The afterlife is simply a place souls go between physical incarnations in the different dimensional worlds. When I first arrived in this world, I was naked, mute, and blind, much like a newborn baby. I had no idea where I was or why I was here. I “awoken” sitting on the grass in a park on a sparkling sunny day.
No one seemed to be distressed to see me sitting there, with no clothing on, feeling frightened. Most people just looked at me and smiled and nodded and went on their way, until two people, a man and a woman, stopped and looked down at me knowingly. They seemed to know who I was and why I was there, even if I didn’t. The man reached down to me with both hands and pulled me to my feet. He wasn’t much taller than I was but had solid muscular arms and a narrow torso. I was surprised that although I felt like an infant, all of my memories and thought processes were intact. This man appeared to be in his 20’s and was wearing what looked like pale green hospital scrubs that matched his large vivid green eyes. His hair was brown and curly and flowed down to his shoulders. He gazed into my eyes, and I was mesmerized by him. He didn’t say anything, just smiled at me, but gave me the impression he was waiting for me to speak to him. When I didn’t, he looked at the woman who was standing at his side. She was just a little shorter than me with very long gray hair that fell over her shoulders as she bent down to run her hands over my arms and legs. I sensed immediately that she might be a doctor of some kind. She also seemed older than her companion. She wore a long gray dress and had a black tattoo on the side of her neck. They looked back and forth to one another and back to me before realizing that I couldn’t communicate with them in their normal manner. The man spoke first and said, “We know who you are and why you are here.” The woman then asked me, “Are you feeling okay? Does anything hurt?” At first, I wasn’t sure what these comments and questions meant or why they were asking me these questions. Then the woman spoke again. “Sometimes when you astral travel, it can be hard on both the physical and ethereal bodies. It will take you a few minutes to become acclimatized to this new realm.”
I slowly started to understand what they were saying. My last memory was being asleep in my own bed. A young girl that I estimated to be a young teen walked up to us carrying a bundle in her arms. She smiled shyly at me and reached towards me, handing me what turned out to be a long white robe. “Thank you,” I said.. the first words I had said since being found on the grass. She seemed startled to hear my voice and just nodded and bowed her head to me… and turned and walked away. The man and woman helped me into the robe and then stood back, looking at me expectantly. “There,” said the man, smiling, “that should make you feel a little better.” They both put their hands on my back and guided me to the footpath. We walked a while with no one saying a word, but both of them nodding, smiling, and again looking back and forth between each other and myself like they were having a conversation that I could not understand.
National Clean Your Virtual Desktop Day encourages everyone to take time to organize their virtual desktop. The observance takes place on the third Monday in October.Remember when your computer was new and the desktop was clean and organized? The trash file was empty. The only files on the computer were the ones the manufacturer created. No viruses. No documents. And your computer was fast, too. You were ready to create, design and program. A clean and organized space offers fewer frustrations. Everything is in its file and you know where to find it. Archive old files. Create short cuts. This will help your computer run faster and help you find them more quickly. Pin favorite apps to the start menu. Name photos and put them on a thumb drive. Clean out that email, too. Delete unused icons. You can do the same thing with your phone. Are there games you don’t play anymore? Eliminate them. Make sure your virus protection is up to date and run it. Make sure it runs on a regular schedule. https://nationaldaycalendar.com/