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	<title>Simplicity</title>
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		<title>Picture of The Week&#8230;Sugar &amp; Spice</title>
		<link>http://amsmtt.wordpress.com/2007/03/16/picture-of-the-weeksugar-spice/</link>
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		<pubDate>Fri, 16 Mar 2007 18:21:00 +0000</pubDate>
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				<category><![CDATA[Amnesty international]]></category>
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		<title>Women Worth Mentioning</title>
		<link>http://amsmtt.wordpress.com/2007/03/15/women-worth-mentioning/</link>
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		<pubDate>Thu, 15 Mar 2007 23:01:00 +0000</pubDate>
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		<description><![CDATA[Juana de Pargament speaks boldly, passionately, and without stopping. This indomitable 90- year-old marches around the Plaza de Mayo in Buenos Aires at 3:30 PM every Thursday, arm-in-arm with other mothers.Juana is a founder of the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo, women who protested their children’s disappearances during Argentina’s brutal military dictatorship, the so-called [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=amsmtt.wordpress.com&amp;blog=887009&amp;post=89&amp;subd=amsmtt&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><span style="color:#66cccc;">Juana de Pargament speaks boldly, passionately, and without stopping. This indomitable 90- year-old marches around the Plaza de Mayo in Buenos Aires at 3:30 PM every Thursday, arm-in-arm with other mothers.<br />Juana is a founder of the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo, women who protested their children’s disappearances during Argentina’s brutal military dictatorship, the so-called “dirty war,” from 1976- 1983. She has been marching for 27 years</span><br /><span style="color:#66cccc;"></span><br /><img style="display:block;cursor:hand;text-align:center;margin:0 auto 10px;" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zDGJgrX_p5Y/RfnRuvM2MuI/AAAAAAAAAVA/wOatrNrcJEg/s400/untitled.bmp" border="0" /><br /><span style="color:#66cccc;">The Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo began the fight as a group of 14 on April 30, 1977. After former president Isabel Peron declared a state of siege.  Under the “Doctrine of National Security,” fighting communism and upholding Christianity were trademarks of a regime based on censorship and persecution of sub- versives. </span></p>
<p><span style="color:#66cccc;">Dazed by a sudden surge in the kidnappings, which had begun as early as 1971, the Mothers banded together to demand information. When General Jorge Rafael Videla refused to meet with them, former President Azucena Villaflor suggested they assemble in the plaza facing the Casa Rosada—the presidential palace.<br />The middle-aged and older women, most of whom had never been politically active before, suddenly faced snarling dogs, police brutality, and death threats, which continue today. </span></p>
<p><span style="color:#66cccc;">According to Bonafini’s account in the History of the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo, the women were condemned as mothers of “terrorists.” Several original Mothers, including Villaflor, disappeared.  In 1979 they resorted to secret church meetings for fear of harshening repercussions. “Our children were militants, they knew about all this, but we didn’t. We were still working in our kitchens,” says Juana. “We went into the streets to look for them. We knocked on every door. Everything was, ‘No. We haven’t seen them, we don’t know them, we don’t recognize them.’” </span></p>
<p><span style="color:#66cccc;">The Mothers eventually discovered that their children were held in 340 secret detention centers where they were tortured, killed, and sometimes thrown into the ocean</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#66cccc;"> Juana says lawyers, doctors, and psychologists participated in the systematic torture, with doctors determining how much prisoners could withstand each day without dying. The Mothers have also accused Pepsi, Coca-Cola, and the sugar refinery Ledesma of lending trucks for kidnappings. </span></p>
<p><span style="color:#66cccc;">Juana and the other Mothers agitated internationally, eventually provoking criticism of Argentina by journalists, human rights organizations, and the United Nations— earning a UNESCO Prize for Peace Education in 1999 and inspiring women’s groups from Holland to Guatemala. However, even as they were promised help, State Department officials maintained covert business relationships with the military. In fact, many military officials had been trained in U.S. military academies to fight the spread of “communism.” </span></p>
<p><span style="color:#66cccc;">“We believed they were listening with love and understanding. But it was not true,” Juana jabs the air for emphasis. “Carter tricked us, they all did.” </span><br /><span style="color:#66cccc;"><br />During Operation Condor—the code name for the secret regional South American plan to share intelligence on suspected Marxists—the Mothers received no support from the Chilean military government and activists were detained in Brazil and Uruguay as they tried to escape. The Mothers also received little aid from the Catholic Church, even though nuns and priests also disappeared. “Of the 80 bishops, only four understood us,” says Juana. “The rest supported the military, like the pope.” According to Juana, former papal envoy Pio Laghi entered concentration camps and signed death sentences. “He kicked the kids that were being tortured and said, ‘Tell them everything you know and you will be saved.’ And they still weren’t saved.”<br />Juana, who is Jewish, claims about 2,000 Jews were among the disappeared, with Jewish prisoners receiving “double the torture.” They were made to walk on all fours and paint their bodies with swastikas, as Nazi music blared. When the Mothers asked the Israeli embassy to save the Jewish disappeared, the Mothers were told Israel didn’t want them either because they were revolutionaries. </span></p>
<p><span style="color:#66cccc;">After the transfer to democracy in 1983, the Mothers met with new President Raúl Alfonsín, but found him unresponsive. He formed the National Commission on the Disappeared (CONADEP), which released explosive details of military repression, but found only 9,000 disappeared. The Mothers estimate at least 30,000</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#66cccc;">Even as they continue to agitate, the Mothers have also moved into a new role—teachers. Visitors often use them as a primary resource to understand a past Argentines are loath to discuss.  The Mothers have written several histories, profiles of the disappeared, and a monthly newspaper. Their headquarters houses a revolutionary bookstore, cafe, and library. In 2000, they began the Popular University of the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo, offering an activist education unavailable in mainstream schools.  </span></p>
<p><span style="color:#66cccc;">Juana thinks young activists should immerse themselves in history, but steer clear of violent conflict. “Save the country with concepts, with feelings, with morality, not with the savagery of the military,” she says. “We fight so new leaders are born to govern with honesty and love. When we don’t live anymore, we want people to remember our example and what happened in this country that made us give our lives to change it once and for all.”</span></p>
<p><a name="author"></a><span style="color:#6666cc;">Amanda Schoenberg has worked as a reporter for The Tico Times, in San Jose, Costa Rica. </span></p>
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		<title>The mastermind behind EVERYTHING</title>
		<link>http://amsmtt.wordpress.com/2007/03/15/the-mastermind-behind-everything/</link>
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		<pubDate>Thu, 15 Mar 2007 19:46:00 +0000</pubDate>
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		<description><![CDATA[Perhaps I&#8217;m just a cynic. Maybe I&#8217;ve lost faith in our politicians &#38; leaders. I see everyone as nothing more than unapologetic spin doctors. So maybe it&#8217;s just me&#8230;but doesn&#8217;t it all seem a little suspicious? Isn&#8217;t this scape goat a tad bit obvious? I&#8217;m not saying that Khalid Sheik Mohammad is as pure as [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=amsmtt.wordpress.com&amp;blog=887009&amp;post=88&amp;subd=amsmtt&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zDGJgrX_p5Y/RfmsZ_M2MtI/AAAAAAAAAU4/nLZOYuZiDsU/s1600-h/top-mohammed-khalidsheikh-cp-2657757.jpg"><img style="display:block;cursor:hand;text-align:center;margin:0 auto 10px;" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zDGJgrX_p5Y/RfmsZ_M2MtI/AAAAAAAAAU4/nLZOYuZiDsU/s400/top-mohammed-khalidsheikh-cp-2657757.jpg" border="0" /></a>
<div><span style="color:#ff6666;">Perhaps I&#8217;m just a cynic. Maybe I&#8217;ve lost faith in our politicians &amp; leaders. I see everyone as nothing more than unapologetic spin doctors. So maybe it&#8217;s just me&#8230;but doesn&#8217;t it all seem a little suspicious? Isn&#8217;t this scape goat a tad bit obvious? I&#8217;m not saying that Khalid Sheik Mohammad is as pure as the freshly driven snow. Not at all. I&#8217;m sure he may have aided in &amp; done some horrendous things. But everything??? This one man is responsible for every terrorist attack &amp; terrorist plot for the past decade? </span></div>
<p>
<div><span style="color:#ff6666;">This man has been in US custody, in secret US prisons, in countries that not only allow torture but blatantly defend their medieval techniques, for 4 years. All of a sudden he confesses to EVERYTHING? Really? He confesses to everything after 4 years of confinement &amp; treatment that doesn&#8217;t just bend but breaks the Geneva convention into pieces, without the assistance of an attorney or any legal aid. Then his confession is read, not by himself but a US Colonel, during a SECRET trial in Cuba. And when asked if his confession was given under torture his answer is blacked out by CIA for &#8220;National Security&#8221;. Actually the majority of the transcript that was made public is blackened out. Now they say that Khalid&#8217;s allegations of torture will be reported &amp; investigated&#8230; What? Didn&#8217;t the US colonel just claim that Khalid himself said that his confession was not given under any pressure? So if there was no pressure what torture will they investigate?</span></div>
<div><span style="color:#ff6666;"></span> </div>
<div><span style="color:#ff6666;">Isn&#8217;t it also a coincidence how this all takes place at the same time that more Americans are against the war then ever before, the Democrats are looking strong for the next election &amp; Bush&#8217;s popularity is in the hole?  What a stroke of luck for the Republicans &amp; for Bush himself.  Now they have a confession &amp; a man they can hold up &amp; say &#8220;see, it&#8217;s working,&#8221;  &#8220;The war, the torture, the military funding, is all worth while.&#8221;  &#8220;And if you want to continue to feel secure you have to vote for us again next election.&#8221;</span></div>
<p>
<div><span style="color:#ff6666;">I don&#8217;t want to come off as an &#8220;anti-American&#8221;, &#8220;anti-troops&#8221;, &#8220;pro-terrorist&#8221; or any other label the SHEEP give to anyone with an opinion of their own. The US got this all wrong. After 9/11 the US had the world united behind them. Now, after Iraq &amp; all the moral &amp; legal fumbling. We have the allies split &amp; fighting with each other, &amp; enemies who have never before been so united. </span></div>
<p>
<div><span style="color:#ff6666;">The US needs to wake up, accept their part in this conflict, stop giving ultimatums, &amp; come up with an end game. Which has to include some form of peaceful negotiation. I know, &#8220;we don&#8217;t negotiate with terrorist.&#8221; Well you can&#8217;t kill them all either.</span></div>
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		<title>A Noise in the attic</title>
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		<pubDate>Mon, 12 Mar 2007 22:40:00 +0000</pubDate>
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		<description><![CDATA[Manacles of Faith Bind &#38; sedate Confining me to illusions of fire The body is holy Pure naked vision Compelling grace from beautiful bone &#38; fine wine Expose yourself to imagining Wail in pleasure Cause earthquakes And other natural disasters Unlock the attic door Let the Woman go free<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=amsmtt.wordpress.com&amp;blog=887009&amp;post=60&amp;subd=amsmtt&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p align="center"><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zDGJgrX_p5Y/RfXatPM2MrI/AAAAAAAAAUo/LX8iNbRb1tU/s1600-h/avatar_3178.gif"><img border="0" width="129" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zDGJgrX_p5Y/RfXatPM2MrI/AAAAAAAAAUo/LX8iNbRb1tU/s400/avatar_3178.gif" height="90" style="display:block;width:129px;cursor:hand;height:90px;text-align:center;margin:0 auto 10px;" /></a></p>
<p align="center"><span style="color:#cc0000;">Manacles of Faith</span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="color:#cc0000;">Bind &amp; sedate</span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="color:#cc0000;">Confining me to illusions of fire</span><br />
<span style="color:#cc0000;">The body is holy</span><br />
<span style="color:#cc0000;">Pure naked vision</span><br />
<span style="color:#cc0000;">Compelling grace from beautiful bone &amp; fine wine</span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="color:#cc0000;">Expose yourself to imagining </span><br />
<span style="color:#cc0000;">Wail in pleasure</span><br />
<span style="color:#cc0000;">Cause earthquakes </span><br />
<span style="color:#cc0000;">And other natural disasters </span><br />
<span style="color:#cc0000;">Unlock the attic door</span><br />
<span style="color:#cc0000;"></span><span style="color:#cc0000;">Let the Woman go free</span></p>
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		<title>&#8230;5</title>
		<link>http://amsmtt.wordpress.com/2007/03/12/5-2/</link>
		<comments>http://amsmtt.wordpress.com/2007/03/12/5-2/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 12 Mar 2007 18:47:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>amsmtt</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[She spoke in a hushed tone. As if every word she uttered was of the greatest importance &#38; meant only for me. I had gone to her house in distress. I had done the right thing. I had told the truth. Now I was being punished. It just wasn&#8217;t right. Aunt Gert tabbed my tears [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=amsmtt.wordpress.com&amp;blog=887009&amp;post=58&amp;subd=amsmtt&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><span style="color:#cc0000;">She spoke in a hushed tone. As if every word she uttered was of the greatest importance &amp; meant only for me. I had gone to her house in distress. I had done the right thing. I had told the truth. Now I was being punished. It just wasn&#8217;t right. Aunt Gert tabbed my tears away with the end of her shawl &amp; plunked me on the sofa next to her, in front of a blazing fire. She always had the sofa a little too close to the fire for my liking. After sitting my face almost immediately roasted. But cuddled into her side I felt safe so I didn&#8217;t want to complain, afraid she might move me to a seat away from her.<br />&#8220;The truth is not an easy thing,&#8221; she whispered. &#8220;Most of the time people try their damnedest to ignore it because they know it isn&#8217;t always sweet. It can make us ache &amp; bleed. It can cause secrets &amp; pain to spill from our eyes, liquid &amp; vulnerable.&#8221; </span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">She hugged me a little closer &amp; bend her head down to my ear. A strand of her silver hair tickled my nose &amp; I brushed it way. &#8221; You should never be afraid to speak the truth. But you&#8217;ll spend your life being nothing but a silly little girl if you expect it to be gentle. Truth does what it must, with no real regard for anyone in it&#8217;s path. So you must always speak the truth, then brace yourself &amp; make damn sure to stay to it&#8217;s right side.&#8221; </span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">I giggled, hearing Aunt Gert curse sounded funny but the serious look on her face cut me short. I quickly put on my church face &amp; nodded in acknowledgement.<br />Laying there I started to think about what was true.  It was true that I still didn&#8217;t quite understand why every one was angry with me. It was also true that Aunt Gert wasn&#8217;t upset with me at all. Actually, she was proud of me.  And that made me feel better, a whole lot better. I curled up a little tighter &amp; fell into a deep sleep, roasting in front of Aunt Gert&#8217;s fire.</span></p>
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		<title>&#8230;4</title>
		<link>http://amsmtt.wordpress.com/2007/03/11/4/</link>
		<comments>http://amsmtt.wordpress.com/2007/03/11/4/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 11 Mar 2007 18:54:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>amsmtt</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[She felt like she would drown in the silence that had seized the small space between them. Than, a spark of emotion, one she hadn&#8217;t felt in a while, a tiny memory of things lost drifted into her mind. There in front of her was the man she had once known. Who&#8217;s body she could [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=amsmtt.wordpress.com&amp;blog=887009&amp;post=54&amp;subd=amsmtt&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><span style="color:#339999;">She felt like she would drown in the silence that had seized the small space between them. Than, a spark of emotion, one she hadn&#8217;t felt in a while, a tiny memory of things lost drifted into her mind. There in front of her was the man she had once known. Who&#8217;s body she could recite as beloved poetry. </span><br /><span style="color:#339999;">Gone! as quickly as it had come. She was slammed back into reality by a flash of sunlight bounced off of his single piece of jewellry, a thin gold wedding band. A knot filled her stomach, she lost her appetite &amp; excused herself from the table. After splashing some cold water on her face she decided she couldn&#8217;t go back in, it was too embarrassing.  She collected her coat &amp; headed for the front door. She would explain things to Tina later, somehow. Outside the night air felt comforting.   Suddenly there was a jerk on the elbow&#8230;literally. As she spun around to see David standing there, with his face contorted to look like what she guessed was a puppy dog.<br />&#8220;Talk to me, let me explain.&#8221;<br />&#8220;There&#8217;s really nothing to explain. There is no excuse &amp; I don&#8217;t want an apology. So you see we&#8217;re really left with nothing.&#8221; She was surprised how the words felt falling from her mouth, how strong she felt.<br />She pulled her arm away from him &amp; turned to hail a cab.<br />&#8220;You don&#8217;t understand,&#8221; He pleaded. &#8220;Jessica &amp; I have a very open relationship.  I&#8217;m not a lying cheat&#8221;<br />She turn in honest disbelief. &#8220;That&#8217;s your explaination?&#8221; Really? That&#8217;s all you got? Wow, and to think I was once attracted to that brain. What a foolish little girl I was.&#8221; She went to open the cab door when David forced it shut. &#8220;I miss us. And Jessica knows all about you.&#8221;<br />It all seemed so comical, she almost laughed out loud. &#8220;I&#8217;m so glad that your wife is OK with her husband sleeping with another woman. Unfortunately, I&#8217;m not OK with my boyfriend sleeping with anyone but me. I know, I&#8217;m kinda quirky that way.&#8221; She knew the sarcasm wasn&#8217;t necessary but it made her feel good. And right now that&#8217;s all that mattered. &#8220;I&#8217;m very glad you respect your wife enough to tell her the truth. Maybe someday one of your girlfriends will be worth the same courtesy.&#8221; David let go of the cab door &amp; Johanna calmly seated herself inside. </span><br /><span style="color:#339999;">Driving away, she thought for sure she&#8217;d burst into tears, but instead she started to laugh, so hard the cabbie turned to ask if she was alright. She was better than alright. Random chance had freed her from naked desire &amp; made it possible for her to really see past the manipulations of the body, his body. She felt great. Maybe she&#8217;d celebrate. </span></p>
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		<title>My Paris Apartment&#8230;.</title>
		<link>http://amsmtt.wordpress.com/2007/03/09/my-paris-apartment/</link>
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		<pubDate>Fri, 09 Mar 2007 00:56:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>amsmtt</dc:creator>
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		<title>SOON&#8230;.</title>
		<link>http://amsmtt.wordpress.com/2007/03/04/soon/</link>
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		<pubDate>Sun, 04 Mar 2007 19:47:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>amsmtt</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[RUT= &#8216;a fixed or established mode of procedure or course in life, usually dull or unpromising. &#8216;And this is exactly where I find myself today. The last place I want to be, yet here I am. WORK-EAT-SLEEP. My body always seems to know when I&#8217;m in a rut before my head. I start to feel [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=amsmtt.wordpress.com&amp;blog=887009&amp;post=85&amp;subd=amsmtt&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zDGJgrX_p5Y/ResmWG9bYfI/AAAAAAAAAUM/_WTZbT_vraU/s1600-h/Boxed.jpg"><img style="display:block;cursor:hand;text-align:center;margin:0 auto 10px;" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zDGJgrX_p5Y/ResmWG9bYfI/AAAAAAAAAUM/_WTZbT_vraU/s400/Boxed.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="color:#ffcccc;">RUT= &#8216;a fixed or established mode of procedure or course in life, usually dull or unpromising. &#8216;</span><br /><span style="color:#ffcccc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcccc;">And this is exactly where I find myself today. The last place I want to be, yet here I am. WORK-EAT-SLEEP. </span>
<div>
<div><span style="color:#ffcccc;">My body always seems to know when I&#8217;m in a rut before my head. I start to feel tense &amp; anxious. I wake with a scream trapped in my chest. I dream of just running &amp; never having to stop. I search every horizon for a sign, a clue.</span></div>
<p><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zDGJgrX_p5Y/ReslVG9bYeI/AAAAAAAAAUE/glds9n0hHrs/s1600-h/running.jpg"><span style="color:#ffcccc;"><img style="float:right;width:227px;cursor:hand;height:228px;margin:0 0 10px 10px;" height="389" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zDGJgrX_p5Y/ReslVG9bYeI/AAAAAAAAAUE/glds9n0hHrs/s400/running.jpg" width="369" border="0" /></span></a><span style="color:#ffcccc;"><br /></span>
<div><span style="color:#ffcccc;">I know that everything will change soon enough. Spring is fast approaching &amp; I am making plans to leave Banff in May. I&#8217;m just a sucker for instant gratification. Soon is never soon enough. </span></div>
<p>
<div><span style="color:#ffcccc;">I think I thrive in chaos. I never seem to be happy unless I&#8217;m changing, moving or in the middle of some new shadow of unpredictability. </span></div>
<p><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zDGJgrX_p5Y/ReskPG9bYdI/AAAAAAAAAT8/hpnDSpQdrE4/s1600-h/sea%20view.bmp"><span style="color:#ffcccc;"><img style="float:left;cursor:hand;margin:0 10px 10px 0;" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zDGJgrX_p5Y/ReskPG9bYdI/AAAAAAAAAT8/hpnDSpQdrE4/s400/sea%2520view.bmp" border="0" /></span></a><span style="color:#ffcccc;"> The things we want take time to build. A lesson I have yet to truly absorb.</span></div>
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		<title>A Work DEEP in Progress&#8230;3</title>
		<link>http://amsmtt.wordpress.com/2007/02/26/a-work-deep-in-progress3/</link>
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		<pubDate>Mon, 26 Feb 2007 20:18:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>amsmtt</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[He had this smile that never seemed to fade. Like he knew something that no one else knew. A private joke &#38; only he knew the punchline. Even when his mouth was straight &#38; structured, not curled into that grin, his eyes shone &#38; laughed out loud. It made me giggle in my tummy just [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=amsmtt.wordpress.com&amp;blog=887009&amp;post=52&amp;subd=amsmtt&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><span style="color:#6666cc;">He had this smile that never seemed to fade. Like he knew something that no one else knew. A private joke &amp; only he knew the punchline. Even when his mouth was straight &amp; structured, not curled into that grin, his eyes shone &amp; laughed out loud. It made me giggle in my tummy just to see him.</span><br /><span style="color:#6666cc;">A calmness enveloped him. It radiated off his person &amp; smelled fragrant, dewy lilacs in the spring. I never had to speak. Just sitting with him, feeling that feeling &amp; smelling that smell made me feel joyful.</span><br /><span style="color:#6666cc;">I think some people are just born that way. You see, some people learn wisdom. They study, pilgrimage &amp; make calm a goal. Others never give it a second thought. Life is pain &amp; work &amp; rush hour. Fight, accumulate, die! But some very special people are just born a step ahead of the rest of us. As children, there&#8217;s a honey sweet restfulness about them. As toddlers they hold your gaze &amp; their eyes dance. Because they know something you don&#8217;t know&#8230;&amp; it&#8217;s funny. Beautiful funny.</span><br /><span style="color:#6666cc;">They can&#8217;t &amp; don&#8217;t try to explain it. There are no words. It&#8217;s breath or gravity, it just is.</span><br /><span style="color:#6666cc;">My grandmother insisted that people like this had old souls. They&#8217;d been around the block a time or two. And if it seemed like they knew more about life, love &amp; the human condition then you did, it was because they did. The older a soul, the closer it is to God &amp; to Truth.</span><br /><span style="color:#6666cc;">I often wondered what Truth he had locked away in those eyes? If I asked would he tell me? Could I have calm &amp; smell like Spring?</span></p>
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		<title>Picture of the week</title>
		<link>http://amsmtt.wordpress.com/2007/02/20/picture-of-the-week-5/</link>
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		<pubDate>Tue, 20 Feb 2007 00:29:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>amsmtt</dc:creator>
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