Chappa-Quid-Pro-Quo--Can Hope Float Where It's Still "Tooth for Tooth?"

Now that we in America--according to the media--have officially reached the end of an era, we should probably give hope a chance to float. Family birthdays tend to fall into that realm of possibility. You wouldn't believe how many there are in my family at this time of year. I hope this cake will suffice for now as my offering of hope.

Aging amalgam fillings--soon to be replaced--require a lot of hope for little pain and much dinero. Every action in life has a consequence, it seems. Too much birthday cake, along with other sweet things, eventually exact a toll. Another toll I'm somewhat concerned about is how much mercury I've consumed over the years as these little miracles of dental ingenuity from the past slowly broke down. It's amazing what we can swallow without giving much thought to it. I suppose we can build up a tolerance for almost anything if it's ingested a little at a time.

For some reason, tolerance seems to be quite the catch-word these days. Grups, though, seem to have the most trouble swallowing the concept whole. They tend to want to chew things slowly and savor the flavor before deciding to completely ingest them or spit them out. It's really not a matter of being un-American or small-minded. It is a sign of experience, survival, and a real hunger for truth--and trust--in an era where those concepts have been as rare as hens' teeth.

A Man may make a Remark--

In itself--a quiet thing

That may furnish the Fuse unto a Spark

In dormant nature--lain--

Let us deport--with skill--

Let us discourse--with care--

Powder exists in Charcoal--

Before it exists in Fire.

(a poem by Emily Dickinson, c. 1864)

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"I hope for an America where neither fundamentalist nor humanist will be a dirty word but a fair description of the different ways in which people of good will look at life and into their own souls...." (from Ted Kennedy's speech on Tolerance and Truth)

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Addendum: Just found this article about America's selective memory. I wonder. Could it be the fault of all of those amalgam fillings?

Heaven in The Symmetry

Do you see heaven in the symmetry of a spider's web? The spider I found inside the screen the other day found its way outside the screen and back on my blog today. Shameless orchard spider!

Today, after checking in with my new orchard specialist, I found a lot of fives around the garden and wondered about the significance of that particular number.

I found this site in my search, and it has a few interesting things to say on the subject.



I recently planted some Pentas in pots and in the flower beds to add some color and butterfly attraction to my world at the moment. For some reason, I have never grown these flowers before in my garden. I was curious about them so I did a bit of looking on the Web. I learned a few tips from another site I found.


Even the common Vinca, which self-sows freely in my garden, wants to count, by fives.


Mexican petunias are giving me something to smile about. They are filling in the bare spots where other, fussier plants have failed to perform. Other gardeners may not like them for what might be considered invasive behavior, but I give them free rein in my garden. I like their five-petaled flowers too. The hummingbirds like to pay them a visit and take a sip from their trumpet-like blossoms now and then.


We went bowling last night after supper, and Micah wanted to run about freely. Unfortunately for him, there are rules in place that do not allow that sort of behavior. He is so young, energetic, and curious about everything, he cannot help but defy those rules and orders to be obeyed and keeps us busy running after him. Luckily, there were five of us adults present to watch him and scoop him up when he just could not sit still any longer.

When I was searching on the Web for the significance of five, I came across some other nuggets of wisdom. One of the sites explores a book with which I am intimately familiar and what it has to say about the significance of numbers. Plato was another fellow who decided the number five was pretty special. He wondered a lot about divine subjects too.

Heaven by Five

Five fingers,

Five toes.

Form in the womb we see

Has all of those.

Five petals,

Five spheres.

Plato once thought of

Symmetry,

Beauty,

Truth,

Heaven....

No more tears.

--W2W, 2008--

Beauty and Truth--Nature Never Lies

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep


A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.


Therefore on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits...

"Beauty is truth, truth beauty."

(John Keats--from A Thing of Beauty and Ode on a Grecian Urn)