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Sid and Rosie, a married couple, share their beliefs in 52 Original Wisdom Stories by Penelope Wilcock shares these religious discussions between each other.  These questions awakened within me excitement. I wanted to know the answers given to simple religious questions of mine.  For example, I've seen people walk about with ashes on their foreheads and had no idea what those ashes meant. I only knew the name of the  Holy time, Ash Wednesday. I discovered so much information in this nonfiction book. Also, there are far more important questions addressed. Sid and Rosie discuss euthanasia and suicide. It is interesting to learn Sid's views because he is a Quaker. Rosie seems to have more of a questioning spirit. She is open to new and different viewpoints about their religion. Sid says, Rosie is definitely not "shallow." I suppose this means her questions make him think. Penelope Wilcock does not steer us into shallow waters. There are prayers at the end of the ch

abseil http://bermudaonion.wordpress.com   "...Not like Spiderman abseiling down a skyscraper....." ( mountaineering ) to descend a steep slope or vertical drop by a rope secured from above and coiled around one's body or through karabiners attached to one's body in order to control the speed of descent  dictionary.reference.abseil

Fall whispering in my ear to come walk under all the golden trees

The doctor looked up and smiled. Abby was pale, and her eyes looked bruised with fatigue. Her gaze held John's for a long moment, and she asked, "Where are the kids?" adailyrhythm.com

Pumpkins, pumpkins rolled by friends to trucks and cars for pies and cookies too

I have two pasts. Maybe I have more than two previous lives.One part of my past is as far away as last spring. The other is as close as yesterday's summer. The summer seems richer because there is an abundance of branches. My dad often talked about the importance of branches. No branch is ever thrown away because each branch has a purpose. So, in my small way I have begun a journey of satisfying the heart of one person whom I loved.  Now, there is winter. A time when all the branches are bare. Their one beauty is the snow that lies on the branches and the trunks. The branches are crooked or straight like arms raise up to the sky. Excitement grows whenever the orange beauty of one particular tree comes near.  It's near a school. Other colors like yellow and red call to me as we ride around and over the hills of our town. Winter is a time of  life after death. There is hope buried beneath and behind the red Holly berries. Hope for the old woman or man who feel like they ha

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