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“To build may have to be the slow and laborious task of years. To destroy can be
the thoughtless act of a single day.”--Winston Churchill

“The only place where success comes before work is in the dictionary.”--Donald Kendall

"Do not hire a man who does your work for money, but him who does it for love of it."
--Henry David Thoreau

"Yoga teaches us to cure what need not be endured and endure what cannot be cured."
--B.K.S. Iyengar

I'm on the phone doing the waiting thing with a very polite IRS rep who is trying to figure out what to do about the letter that I got, yesterday, that says I owe fifteen hundred dollars for an over paid return in 2009, a year that I didn't file an income tax return, but someone else did in my name. The waiting is the hardest part.

I walked the dogs separately this morning, needing to keep a close eye on Dylan whenever I bring him out to interact with humanity for, as you may already know, he is prone to nipping folks. The neighborhood robins greeted us, each time that I went out with a dog, and were very civil, this morning; a male robin hopped in front of us, on the sidewalk, as we walked, as if he was part of our team, and when he flew off, it was only to my eye level, in a tree near us. The robins around us are nearly tame. It is breathtaking to view them, and to interact with them. The male robins search for worms in grass in front of our home is endless; he has mouths to feed.

I am reading the book, "No Country For Old Men," by Cormac McCarthy. I recently watched the Cohen Brothers movie version of the book, and it was so fantastic, that I had to order a copy from Amazon. I got the book for a penny, but there is always that darn $3.99 shipping and handling charge. So far, the book is true to the movie, which, I guess, means that the movie was true to the book. I am still reading, "Wesley the Owl," by Stacey O'brien; it is a very touching, sometimes goofy, book. I am also starting to write my review of one of the best books that I have ever read, "Up From the Blue," by Susan Henderson. I love it when there are great books in my life.

The robins are loud, today. The father is standing on a branch in the tree in front of our house squawking at the nest, and the mother is squawking back at him. The baby robins are singing like they are happy to be alive. I threw a couple of slices of wheat bread down on the ground to try to help Pappa Robin out. I wonder if he will avail himself of it?


Henry, Morisson, and I ran into a great new band while on our walk through Piedmont Park, today: Paris Luna. Paris can sing like hell on her originals, and she, and her great band, did a whopping fantastic job covering, "Me and Bobby McGee," for the last song of their set. Check out their website, and find a date near you where they are playing. You won't be disappointed.

This guy that looked to be about 3/7's homeless came up to pet Henry, and I asked him to take couple of pictures of me, Henry, and Morisson. The guy acted like he knew what he was doing, after I told him how to do it. With a big smile, he said that he took 3 pictures. I just got home, and there are no pics from that session on the camera. Bummer. Moral of story: never ask a guy who looks about 3/7's homeless to take pictures of you, and your dogs, in the park!

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A book has pulled me away from Netflix. A book has pulled me away from my writing. I am skipping meals, and missing sleep to read this book: "Up From the Blue," by Susan Henderson. You should read it; it is a fantastic novel.

"Up From the Blue," is one of the best books that I have ever read. It is the kind of book that makes you want to stay with it to the end, ignoring all of life's responsibilities to find out what is going to happen next. You are driven to the conclusion of this book with each page you read. You can't turn each page fast enough to get to the next page, and then when the book ends, you want it to continue. .

"Up From the Blue," is, primarily, the story of Tillie, an eight year old girl, who tells us about her life in a very memoir-like way. For most of the book, it is hard to believe that, "Up From the Blue," is a novel because it is so real that you feel like you are reading someone's memoir. I have to wonder how much of author Susan Henderson is in Tillie. Who was it that said that, "Novels were thin veiled masks of an author's self?"

Tillie's mom can't cope; she is probably bi-polar. Tillie's dad is a top ranked military man, who thinks that he is in charge of everything. Tillie shows us what it is like to grow up under parents so pathetically opposite, and she takes us to the birth of her first child concurrently.

Tillie is such a brat, but as a reader, you love her; you root for her, in what she finds to be trying circumstances. The kids at school pick on her. Her one, and only, brother shuns her like the plague.

I want to tell you more about this book, more about the story of Tillie, but I won't. I want you to read this book, and enjoy it, as I did: get ready to do nothing but read this book. It's the end of the world as you know it, until you get it done.

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