Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Kitties Rescued by US Marine in Afghanistan
This is the best, cutest kitten story ever. EVER.
Unique Scoop: Kitties Rescued by US Marine in Afghanistan
Unique Scoop: Kitties Rescued by US Marine in Afghanistan
Because she's awesome
This was posted by my good friend May-B. She's awesome. After reading this story you will see why.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
I'm sure everyone has seen this, however....
If I would have posted this when TeeShort originally sent this, your reaction may have been more, "AWWW! How touching!" and less, "Yeah, seen it already". But, seeing as it is pretty awesome, maybe I'll still get some "Aww"s.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Happiness is a Choice?
I'm reading this book (again) called Happiness is a Choice by Barry Neil Kaufman. I find it very helpful and inspiring when I'm feeling down. Below is an excerpt from the book that I've found particularly helpful. Even if you don't usually believe in stuff like this, give it read with an open mind. You might surprise yourself!
(If you like what you read below, check out The Option Institute Website which is where I got the excerpt from.)
The Way We Look at Life Determines Our Experience
Such a simple insight presents each of us with an opportunity to make momentous changes in our lives. The only limits are the ones we create!
We can ask a new kind of question: not simply inquiring into "what is" but inquiring into what we want and what grasp of the universe would nurture and support a choice to be happier, more loving, more peaceful and more secure. Can we move away from the contemporary cauldron of pessimism to find a more useful and inspiring point of view? Rather than wait for a pie-in-the-sky apocalyptic event, we can take charge of our own evolution by changing our world view now.
The current cultural paradigm - the frame of reference from which we view the events unfolding locally and in our global village - suggests a scourge upon the land, with brother fighting brother, new diseases sweeping like plagues through generations of people, poverty and famine snarling at the doorsteps of human dignity, and a general ecological malaise hanging like a frightening veil over the planet's future.
Current events, as depicted by the news media, bombard our consciousness with one catastrophe after another, reinforcing a "victim" mentality. Reporters and newscasters endlessly parade, for our literary or visual consumption, the bodies of those killed, maimed or noticeably diminished by war, disease, violent crime, economic recession, poor parenting, drug or alcohol addiction, sexual abuse, food poisoning, train wrecks, air crashes, automobile collisions, tornadoes, hurricanes., floods and the like. Although we remain attentive, we numb ourselves, trying to put some distance between us and the brutality of those onslaughts. In the evening, we wonder how we made it through the day in one piece or, worse yet, how we will survive the unseen catastrophes of tomorrow.
We could decide, flat out, to stop watching and listening to the news ... and to stop reading it, too. We have made an addiction out of being "informed," as if knowledge of disasters could somehow contribute to our sense of well-being and serenity. Our lives will never be enriched by the gloomy pronouncements of unhappy people, fearing and judging all that they see. They follow fire engines racing toward billowing black clouds of smoke and ignore the smiling youngster helping an elderly woman carry her grocery bags. One dramatic traffic accident on a major highway sends reporters scurrying, while the stories of four hundred thousand other vehicles that made it home safely go unnoticed. Newscasters replay over and over again a fatal plane crash captured on videotape but rarely depict the tenderness of a mother nurturing her newborn infant.
Simple acts of love, safe arrivals, peaceful exchanges between neighboring countries and people helping each other, are noteworthy events. The media bias toward sensationalism and violence presents a selective, distorted and, in the final analysis, inaccurate portrait of the state of affairs on this planet. No balance here. We feed our minds such bleak imagery, then feel lost, depressed and impotent without ever acknowledging fully the devastating impact these presentations have on our world view and our state of mind.
Why not inspire ourselves rather than scare ourselves? We choose our focuses of attention from the vast menu of life's experiences. Wanting to be happy and more loving on a sustained basis directs us to seek peaceful roads less traveled. Though we might not determine all the events around us, we are omnipotent in determining our reaction to them. Some of us will live on the earth's crust searching for horror; others will lift the stones and see beauty beneath. Our embrace of life will be determined not by what is "out there," but by how we ingest what is "out there." Our view becomes almighty.
What we have been taught about ourselves and the universe around us conspires to have us believe that living requires awesome energy and great struggle. "No pain, no gain," we are told. "Life is a constant struggle." "You have to take the bad with the good." "You never really get what you want." "You're unlovable." "Something is wrong with you " (although it's never quite identified, you know it's there). "There is no justice." "No one cares." "Look over your shoulder and beware!"
These become communal mantras, shared with others and elevated to the status of treasured folklore. They color our vision and send us searching for the experience (rejection, attack, indifference) that we anticipate. Usually we find it! Our vision blossoms into a self-fulfilling prophesy, which each new experience tends to verify and reinforce. I never met a man who lived forever. I also never met a man who believed he could live forever. We become our beliefs. We get stuck in our heads.
Suppose we set aside the rigid concepts we might have learned about how the universe works. If we can now begin to entertain the possibility of many world pictures, then we might want to experiment by putting aside a logical, linear view of existence with fixed points and "hard facts" and consider a metaphor which reveals the ever-changing nature of the known universe.
We swim in a river of life. We can never put our foot into the river in the same place twice. In every second, in every millisecond, the water beneath us changes. Likewise, in every second, in every millisecond, the foot that we place into the river fills with new blood. Instead of celebrating the motion, we try to hold on to the roots and stumps at the bottom of the river, as if letting go and flowing with it would be dangerous. In effect, we try to freeze-frame life in still photographs. But the river is not fixed like the photograph and neither are we.
Ninety-eight percent of the atoms of our bodies are replaced in the course of a year. Our skeleton, which appears so fundamentally stable and solid, undergoes an almost complete transition every three months. Our skin regenerates within four weeks, our stomach lining within four days and the portion of our stomach lining which interfaces with food reconstructs itself every four or five minutes. Thousands, even millions, of neurons in our brain can fire in a second; each firing creates original and distinct chemistry as well as the possibility for new and different configurations of interconnecting signals. As billions of cells in our bodies keep changing, billions of stars and galaxies keep shifting in an ever-expanding space. Even the mountains and rocks under our feet shift in a never-ending dance through time. Life celebrates itself through motion and change.
Although we can certainly see continuity - seasons come and go, trees grow taller and people get older - we can acknowledge that each unfolding moment, nevertheless, presents a world different from that of the last moment. We could say that we and the world are born anew in every second and our description would be accurate scientifically. Therein lies an amazing opportunity for change. We can stop acting as if our opinions and perspectives have been carved in granite and begin to become more fluid, more open and more changeable, even inconsistent. We are in the river. We are the river!
Every stroke we make, every thought or action we produce, helps create the experience of this moment and the next. And the beliefs we fabricate along the way shape our thoughts and actions. Sounds rather arbitrary, some might say. It is! Quite simply, we try to move toward what we believe will be good for us and away from what we believe will be bad for us - operating always within the context of our beliefs. Even our hierarchies of greater "goods" and greater "bads" consist only of more beliefs. We hold our beliefs sincerely and defend our positions with standards of ethics or "cold, hard facts." We treat much of what we know and believe as irrefutable. We talk in absolutes. Once our beliefs are in place, we use all kinds of evidence to support them, quite unaware that we have created the evidence for the sole purpose of supporting whatever position we favor. In essence, we have become very skilled at "making it up."
Many years ago, my mother had surgery for breast cancer, followed by radiation treatments. Several years later the cancer reappeared in other parts of her body. Operations and additional radiation therapy disfigured and disabled her. Her dying process overwhelmed her and the rest of our family for years.
Not long after her death, we received a phone call from a researcher at the famed hospital where she had been treated, inquiring as to her current health. When informed of her passing, the researcher asked for the date of her death. I realized, on reflection, as he did, that she had died only a little more than five years after her initial surgery, although the cancer had continued to spread and more invasive treatment ensued. Since she had survived five years past the initial surgery and the study did not inquire into the quality of life during those years or the possibility of recurrences, the hospital representative indicated that my mother would become a favorable statistic for the hospital's cancer clinic.
Months later, major journals carried the news of this hospital's success in treating and effecting breast cancer cures based on a five-year survival rate. The agony of my mother's final journey had been filtered through the statistician's hand and transformed into data supporting the hospital's claims. The evidence had been gathered to support the beliefs of the gatherer and to further enhance the reputation of his facility and its methods. And so often we, the consumers of beliefs and evidence, buy just such "facts" as gospel.
Exploration of the belief-making game becomes even more beguiling as we pursue it further. Many years ago, after trying unsuccessfully to deal with a minor medical problem I sought the input of an elderly Chinese physician and acupuncturist who had been educated in Beijing and Shanghai. In accordance with his beliefs, he began his examination by checking the twelve energy meridians in my body. He placed his fingers gently on my wrist and then, to my surprise, continued to stare at his watch. Finally, he shook his head.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"Weak heart," he declared with great conviction.
My mouth dropped open. "Impossible," I countered.
"Weak heart," he repeated pointedly.
Surprised and concerned by his comment, I asked for further explanation. He noted that my heart beat only fifty-two times per minute, rather than the "normal" seventy-two to seventy-six times per minute.
"Oh," I sighed with relief, "I'm a runner. I jog six miles every day and have done so for over twelve years. My cardiovascular system has been well exercised," I added. "That's why, at rest, my heart beats so slowly." I had had a complete physical exam recently, including a stress test with an electrocardiogram, which determined that I had a well-toned and strong heart. I repeated what I had read, sprinkling my summary with additional information from my regular physician and the latest cardiovascular statistics.
"Now understand why weak heart," he said authoritatively. This eastern physician then explained that because of my continuous running, my heart had been fatigued; thus, it was no longer capable of putting out seventy-six beats per minute.
"Ever watch dog?" he said. "Breathe very fast. Heart beats fast. Twelve years, maybe fifteen years, dead. Big whales. Hmm, breathe slowly. Heart slow. Easy. Can live one hundred years. More, maybe." Then he explained that, in accordance with his "vision," the heart can beat only a finite number of times in a lifetime. By running, breathing fast and making my heart beat fast, be maintained, I had been using up those beats unnecessarily and had exhausted my heart muscle as well.
The exact same evidence in the hands of two different doctors led to profoundly opposing conclusions. I did note that the Chinese physician was a lively man in his late eighties (perhaps he had been saving up his heartbeats). What did I want to believe? In this case, my intention was to be healthy. Although keenly aware that two cultures held different "truths" about the same data, I still wanted to find a meaningful way for me to select beliefs and behavior which would support my health. I resolved the dilemma by choosing to consult what I call my "nonverbal/nonconceptual resource within." I would make a decision about running based on what felt good to me physiologically. I had pushed myself for years to make a certain quota of miles each week, sometimes ignoring fatigue and an internal inclination to ease my standard. I decided now I would run only as long as I felt energized to do so. I would gather new evidence to support my new criteria or new belief. Within weeks, I trimmed my mileage by almost fifty percent.
Our conclusions follow from our chosen biases (our chosen beliefs).
(If you like what you read below, check out The Option Institute Website which is where I got the excerpt from.)
The Way We Look at Life Determines Our Experience
Such a simple insight presents each of us with an opportunity to make momentous changes in our lives. The only limits are the ones we create!
We can ask a new kind of question: not simply inquiring into "what is" but inquiring into what we want and what grasp of the universe would nurture and support a choice to be happier, more loving, more peaceful and more secure. Can we move away from the contemporary cauldron of pessimism to find a more useful and inspiring point of view? Rather than wait for a pie-in-the-sky apocalyptic event, we can take charge of our own evolution by changing our world view now.
The current cultural paradigm - the frame of reference from which we view the events unfolding locally and in our global village - suggests a scourge upon the land, with brother fighting brother, new diseases sweeping like plagues through generations of people, poverty and famine snarling at the doorsteps of human dignity, and a general ecological malaise hanging like a frightening veil over the planet's future.
Current events, as depicted by the news media, bombard our consciousness with one catastrophe after another, reinforcing a "victim" mentality. Reporters and newscasters endlessly parade, for our literary or visual consumption, the bodies of those killed, maimed or noticeably diminished by war, disease, violent crime, economic recession, poor parenting, drug or alcohol addiction, sexual abuse, food poisoning, train wrecks, air crashes, automobile collisions, tornadoes, hurricanes., floods and the like. Although we remain attentive, we numb ourselves, trying to put some distance between us and the brutality of those onslaughts. In the evening, we wonder how we made it through the day in one piece or, worse yet, how we will survive the unseen catastrophes of tomorrow.
We could decide, flat out, to stop watching and listening to the news ... and to stop reading it, too. We have made an addiction out of being "informed," as if knowledge of disasters could somehow contribute to our sense of well-being and serenity. Our lives will never be enriched by the gloomy pronouncements of unhappy people, fearing and judging all that they see. They follow fire engines racing toward billowing black clouds of smoke and ignore the smiling youngster helping an elderly woman carry her grocery bags. One dramatic traffic accident on a major highway sends reporters scurrying, while the stories of four hundred thousand other vehicles that made it home safely go unnoticed. Newscasters replay over and over again a fatal plane crash captured on videotape but rarely depict the tenderness of a mother nurturing her newborn infant.
Simple acts of love, safe arrivals, peaceful exchanges between neighboring countries and people helping each other, are noteworthy events. The media bias toward sensationalism and violence presents a selective, distorted and, in the final analysis, inaccurate portrait of the state of affairs on this planet. No balance here. We feed our minds such bleak imagery, then feel lost, depressed and impotent without ever acknowledging fully the devastating impact these presentations have on our world view and our state of mind.
Why not inspire ourselves rather than scare ourselves? We choose our focuses of attention from the vast menu of life's experiences. Wanting to be happy and more loving on a sustained basis directs us to seek peaceful roads less traveled. Though we might not determine all the events around us, we are omnipotent in determining our reaction to them. Some of us will live on the earth's crust searching for horror; others will lift the stones and see beauty beneath. Our embrace of life will be determined not by what is "out there," but by how we ingest what is "out there." Our view becomes almighty.
What we have been taught about ourselves and the universe around us conspires to have us believe that living requires awesome energy and great struggle. "No pain, no gain," we are told. "Life is a constant struggle." "You have to take the bad with the good." "You never really get what you want." "You're unlovable." "Something is wrong with you " (although it's never quite identified, you know it's there). "There is no justice." "No one cares." "Look over your shoulder and beware!"
These become communal mantras, shared with others and elevated to the status of treasured folklore. They color our vision and send us searching for the experience (rejection, attack, indifference) that we anticipate. Usually we find it! Our vision blossoms into a self-fulfilling prophesy, which each new experience tends to verify and reinforce. I never met a man who lived forever. I also never met a man who believed he could live forever. We become our beliefs. We get stuck in our heads.
Suppose we set aside the rigid concepts we might have learned about how the universe works. If we can now begin to entertain the possibility of many world pictures, then we might want to experiment by putting aside a logical, linear view of existence with fixed points and "hard facts" and consider a metaphor which reveals the ever-changing nature of the known universe.
We swim in a river of life. We can never put our foot into the river in the same place twice. In every second, in every millisecond, the water beneath us changes. Likewise, in every second, in every millisecond, the foot that we place into the river fills with new blood. Instead of celebrating the motion, we try to hold on to the roots and stumps at the bottom of the river, as if letting go and flowing with it would be dangerous. In effect, we try to freeze-frame life in still photographs. But the river is not fixed like the photograph and neither are we.
Ninety-eight percent of the atoms of our bodies are replaced in the course of a year. Our skeleton, which appears so fundamentally stable and solid, undergoes an almost complete transition every three months. Our skin regenerates within four weeks, our stomach lining within four days and the portion of our stomach lining which interfaces with food reconstructs itself every four or five minutes. Thousands, even millions, of neurons in our brain can fire in a second; each firing creates original and distinct chemistry as well as the possibility for new and different configurations of interconnecting signals. As billions of cells in our bodies keep changing, billions of stars and galaxies keep shifting in an ever-expanding space. Even the mountains and rocks under our feet shift in a never-ending dance through time. Life celebrates itself through motion and change.
Although we can certainly see continuity - seasons come and go, trees grow taller and people get older - we can acknowledge that each unfolding moment, nevertheless, presents a world different from that of the last moment. We could say that we and the world are born anew in every second and our description would be accurate scientifically. Therein lies an amazing opportunity for change. We can stop acting as if our opinions and perspectives have been carved in granite and begin to become more fluid, more open and more changeable, even inconsistent. We are in the river. We are the river!
Every stroke we make, every thought or action we produce, helps create the experience of this moment and the next. And the beliefs we fabricate along the way shape our thoughts and actions. Sounds rather arbitrary, some might say. It is! Quite simply, we try to move toward what we believe will be good for us and away from what we believe will be bad for us - operating always within the context of our beliefs. Even our hierarchies of greater "goods" and greater "bads" consist only of more beliefs. We hold our beliefs sincerely and defend our positions with standards of ethics or "cold, hard facts." We treat much of what we know and believe as irrefutable. We talk in absolutes. Once our beliefs are in place, we use all kinds of evidence to support them, quite unaware that we have created the evidence for the sole purpose of supporting whatever position we favor. In essence, we have become very skilled at "making it up."
Many years ago, my mother had surgery for breast cancer, followed by radiation treatments. Several years later the cancer reappeared in other parts of her body. Operations and additional radiation therapy disfigured and disabled her. Her dying process overwhelmed her and the rest of our family for years.
Not long after her death, we received a phone call from a researcher at the famed hospital where she had been treated, inquiring as to her current health. When informed of her passing, the researcher asked for the date of her death. I realized, on reflection, as he did, that she had died only a little more than five years after her initial surgery, although the cancer had continued to spread and more invasive treatment ensued. Since she had survived five years past the initial surgery and the study did not inquire into the quality of life during those years or the possibility of recurrences, the hospital representative indicated that my mother would become a favorable statistic for the hospital's cancer clinic.
Months later, major journals carried the news of this hospital's success in treating and effecting breast cancer cures based on a five-year survival rate. The agony of my mother's final journey had been filtered through the statistician's hand and transformed into data supporting the hospital's claims. The evidence had been gathered to support the beliefs of the gatherer and to further enhance the reputation of his facility and its methods. And so often we, the consumers of beliefs and evidence, buy just such "facts" as gospel.
Exploration of the belief-making game becomes even more beguiling as we pursue it further. Many years ago, after trying unsuccessfully to deal with a minor medical problem I sought the input of an elderly Chinese physician and acupuncturist who had been educated in Beijing and Shanghai. In accordance with his beliefs, he began his examination by checking the twelve energy meridians in my body. He placed his fingers gently on my wrist and then, to my surprise, continued to stare at his watch. Finally, he shook his head.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"Weak heart," he declared with great conviction.
My mouth dropped open. "Impossible," I countered.
"Weak heart," he repeated pointedly.
Surprised and concerned by his comment, I asked for further explanation. He noted that my heart beat only fifty-two times per minute, rather than the "normal" seventy-two to seventy-six times per minute.
"Oh," I sighed with relief, "I'm a runner. I jog six miles every day and have done so for over twelve years. My cardiovascular system has been well exercised," I added. "That's why, at rest, my heart beats so slowly." I had had a complete physical exam recently, including a stress test with an electrocardiogram, which determined that I had a well-toned and strong heart. I repeated what I had read, sprinkling my summary with additional information from my regular physician and the latest cardiovascular statistics.
"Now understand why weak heart," he said authoritatively. This eastern physician then explained that because of my continuous running, my heart had been fatigued; thus, it was no longer capable of putting out seventy-six beats per minute.
"Ever watch dog?" he said. "Breathe very fast. Heart beats fast. Twelve years, maybe fifteen years, dead. Big whales. Hmm, breathe slowly. Heart slow. Easy. Can live one hundred years. More, maybe." Then he explained that, in accordance with his "vision," the heart can beat only a finite number of times in a lifetime. By running, breathing fast and making my heart beat fast, be maintained, I had been using up those beats unnecessarily and had exhausted my heart muscle as well.
The exact same evidence in the hands of two different doctors led to profoundly opposing conclusions. I did note that the Chinese physician was a lively man in his late eighties (perhaps he had been saving up his heartbeats). What did I want to believe? In this case, my intention was to be healthy. Although keenly aware that two cultures held different "truths" about the same data, I still wanted to find a meaningful way for me to select beliefs and behavior which would support my health. I resolved the dilemma by choosing to consult what I call my "nonverbal/nonconceptual resource within." I would make a decision about running based on what felt good to me physiologically. I had pushed myself for years to make a certain quota of miles each week, sometimes ignoring fatigue and an internal inclination to ease my standard. I decided now I would run only as long as I felt energized to do so. I would gather new evidence to support my new criteria or new belief. Within weeks, I trimmed my mileage by almost fifty percent.
Our conclusions follow from our chosen biases (our chosen beliefs).
Saturday, April 17, 2010
You've got a friend
I couldn't find any "feel good" stories so I thought I'd post this instead. Listening to James Taylor always makes me happy and this is my favorite song that he sings. I also sang this in a musical when I was in grade 12. So, there you go. Good song AND fun fact. Totally worth the visit.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
This is pretty amazing.
Sent to me by May-B who is pretty amazing as well.
It's almost 6 minutes but worth it so watch the whole thing. This is an order.
It's almost 6 minutes but worth it so watch the whole thing. This is an order.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Tired of Tiger
Here's a nice story my good friend Moira sent me. In a time when Golf is all about scandal it's nice to see something like this get reported on.
Before we close the door on everything non-Masters, one final look at a good story from this past weekend. Phil Mickelson takes grief for pretty much everything he does or doesn't do, from his appearance to his attitude to his game. And even though he's been struck by tragedy in the past year -- the cancer diagnoses on both his wife and mother -- he's still the PGA player most fans love to goof on.
Nice move: Phil Mickelson brings his wife's doctor in to caddy
Before we close the door on everything non-Masters, one final look at a good story from this past weekend. Phil Mickelson takes grief for pretty much everything he does or doesn't do, from his appearance to his attitude to his game. And even though he's been struck by tragedy in the past year -- the cancer diagnoses on both his wife and mother -- he's still the PGA player most fans love to goof on.But you can't deny the guy knows how to show some love. Like this past weekend at the Shell Houston Open, when he brought on a special caddy for a few holes -- the doctor who's been treating his wife and mother.
Mickelson had invited Dr. Tom Buchholz, a radiation oncologist at Houston's M.D. Anderson Cancer Center, to the tournament along with many other doctors and hospital staff. And on Sunday, on the 14th tee, when Phil was out of contention -- hold the jokes for half a second -- he invited Buchholz to take the bag from regular caddy Bones Mackay.
That's one hell of a cool gesture, isn't it? It cost Phil absolutely nothing -- matter of fact, it might have helped. Buchholz helped Phil to a birdie on 14, and suddenly a one-hole stint turned into three holes.
"Three great reads, three great clubs," Mickelson said later. "It was only supposed to go one hole. I ended up making birdie, and I kept making birdies. We went 3-for-3 together." Buchholz had some experience as a caddy, having looped after college. But it wasn't his green-reading skills that put him on the bag.
"This man has helped us through some of the toughest times that we've gone through," Mickelson said. "He's the best at what he does."
Nice move from Mickelson. If the Gods of Augusta respect karma, Lefty's going in with a little extra bump.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Puppies helping people help people (or) Yet another reason to love puppies.
This story is from http://optimistworld.com/ which is a great website for inspirational stories. This one just warms my grinchy heart.
Inmates train dogs to work with children with physical or mental disabilities
By Maya Hanley
Nine Labrador puppies arrived at Plainfield Correctional Facility recently. Eighteen inmates will train them with the help of Indiana Canine Assistance Network’s Service Dog Apprenticeship (ICAN) programme.
The 18 inmates who will train the 9 puppies will have a chance to give back to their community and will help the dogs learn to assist children with physical or mental disabilities.
“You’ll see the most hardened felons turn into the sappiest guys,” said prison spokesman Kevin Mulrooney. “It’s incredible the difference that a few dogs can make.”
30 years ago, a nun called Pauline Quinn, from Michigan, came up with the idea and now four area prisons participate in the 9 year old ICAN programme run by Sally Irvin.
A total of 42 dogs are in training at Plainfield and the Branchville Correctional Facility, Indiana Women’s Prison and Rockville Correctional Facility for women.
Irvin said it costs ICAN about $1,600 to train one dog, so the program depends on donations and grants.
“Private citizens are by far the biggest donation source,” Irvin said. “Since we only charge clients $950 for the dogs and offer two weeks of training and a lifetime follow-up, it takes a lot of financial support.” Each dog lives in the housing unit with the inmate-trainer and remains with trainers nearly 24 hours a day, seven days a week.
To qualify for the program, offenders must have a background clear of violent behavior, have had no negative conduct reports for at least a year, and apply and interview for the programme as they would for a job.
“The programme requires (offenders) to take complete ownership in their job,” Mulroony said. “They all know that there’s a lot of effort that goes into the training for the dog and how it will benefit the community.
“When you see an offender walking through the hall with their dog, you can just tell that there’s a bond already. That dog and this job becomes their world.”
30 years ago, a nun called Pauline Quinn, from Michigan, came up with the idea and now four area prisons participate in the 9 year old ICAN programme run by Sally Irvin.
A total of 42 dogs are in training at Plainfield and the Branchville Correctional Facility, Indiana Women’s Prison and Rockville Correctional Facility for women.
Irvin said it costs ICAN about $1,600 to train one dog, so the program depends on donations and grants.
“Private citizens are by far the biggest donation source,” Irvin said. “Since we only charge clients $950 for the dogs and offer two weeks of training and a lifetime follow-up, it takes a lot of financial support.” Each dog lives in the housing unit with the inmate-trainer and remains with trainers nearly 24 hours a day, seven days a week.
To qualify for the program, offenders must have a background clear of violent behavior, have had no negative conduct reports for at least a year, and apply and interview for the programme as they would for a job.
“The programme requires (offenders) to take complete ownership in their job,” Mulroony said. “They all know that there’s a lot of effort that goes into the training for the dog and how it will benefit the community.
“When you see an offender walking through the hall with their dog, you can just tell that there’s a bond already. That dog and this job becomes their world.”
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Thursday's cartoon day!
I decided to start Cartoon Thursdays as I used to be all about cartoons. Now, not so much but I still loves me some Calvin and Hobbes. This is one of my faves:
(Feel free to submit your favorites!)
(Feel free to submit your favorites!)
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Monday, March 22, 2010
More cats!
This was sent to me by my good friend Tricia at Tee short and I agree with her description: I think this is positive and uplifting. It's Wilford Brimley look-a-like cat tricks.
I think they're adorable. And the one totally looks like Wilford Brimley. I really want a cat now.
I think they're adorable. And the one totally looks like Wilford Brimley. I really want a cat now.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
We are more
This is a pretty sweet video sent to me by my Aunt Cheryl who is a pretty sweet aunt. It's all about Canada and how awesome we are. Here's a little preamble before you watch:
Slam poet Shane Koyczan delivers his poem "We Are More," which was commissioned by the Canadian Tourism Commission. Shane Koyczan urges us to keep exploring and keep being inspired by Canada. Shane Koyczan has performed at Slam Poetry and Spoken Word festivals from Vancouver to Toronto and everywhere across Canada.
Slam poet Shane Koyczan delivers his poem "We Are More," which was commissioned by the Canadian Tourism Commission. Shane Koyczan urges us to keep exploring and keep being inspired by Canada. Shane Koyczan has performed at Slam Poetry and Spoken Word festivals from Vancouver to Toronto and everywhere across Canada.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Taking the time to think
This was actually taken borrowed from another great blog, Hannah Unscripted. Hannah, if you're reading this, I can't comment on your blog for some reason and I was going to say that I really loved this story so, seeing as I can't comment on your blog I'll comment on mine and also get a post out of the deal! Also, I loved your poem.
Anyways, I'm sure many of you have read this story before as it's part of one of those email forward chains but, if you're like me, you may not have taken the time to really read it. It really makes you think about what you're spending your days doing and what things are really important to you.
So, if you're going to read it, I advise you to read it and really think about it. And, maybe, today's the day to start making little changes in your life. Maybe today's the day you phone your Mom and tell her you love her. Maybe today's the day you read a book instead of cleaning the bathroom. Maybe today's the day that you comment on my blog and tell me how much you love me and that you think I'm really really awesome. The beauty is, you don't have to make huge changes to make your day just a little bit brighter. It's all up to you.
When things in your life seem almost too much to handle, when 24 hours in a day are not enough, remember the mayonnaise jar...and the beer.
A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly, he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls.
He then asked the students if the jar was full.
They agreed that it was.
So the professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full.
They agreed that it was.
The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar.
Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full.
The students responded with an unanimous "yes."
The professor then produced two cans of beer from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between the sand.
The students laughed.
"Now," said the professor, as the laughter subsided, "I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things--your family, your children, your health, your friends,your favorite passions-- things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.
"The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house, your car.
The sand is everything else--the small stuff. If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued, "there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls.
The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness.
Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your partner out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house, and fix the disposal. "Take care of the golf balls first, the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand."
One of the students raised their hand and inquired what the beer represented.
The professor smiled. "I'm glad you asked. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple of beers.
Anyways, I'm sure many of you have read this story before as it's part of one of those email forward chains but, if you're like me, you may not have taken the time to really read it. It really makes you think about what you're spending your days doing and what things are really important to you.
So, if you're going to read it, I advise you to read it and really think about it. And, maybe, today's the day to start making little changes in your life. Maybe today's the day you phone your Mom and tell her you love her. Maybe today's the day you read a book instead of cleaning the bathroom. Maybe today's the day that you comment on my blog and tell me how much you love me and that you think I'm really really awesome. The beauty is, you don't have to make huge changes to make your day just a little bit brighter. It's all up to you.
When things in your life seem almost too much to handle, when 24 hours in a day are not enough, remember the mayonnaise jar...and the beer.
A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly, he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls.
He then asked the students if the jar was full.
They agreed that it was.
So the professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full.
They agreed that it was.
The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar.
Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full.
The students responded with an unanimous "yes."
The professor then produced two cans of beer from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between the sand.
The students laughed.
"Now," said the professor, as the laughter subsided, "I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things--your family, your children, your health, your friends,your favorite passions-- things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.
"The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house, your car.
The sand is everything else--the small stuff. If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued, "there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls.
The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness.
Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your partner out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house, and fix the disposal. "Take care of the golf balls first, the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand."
One of the students raised their hand and inquired what the beer represented.
The professor smiled. "I'm glad you asked. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple of beers.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Good news rescue!
Montana man spends 4 days stuck in car in snowbank
By MATT VOLZ (AP)
(AP Photo/Lou Rogers)
HELENA, Mont. — A 67-year-old country musician from Montana who spent four days in his car stuck on a remote mountain road said he wrote a goodbye letter and was preparing himself for death when he was rescued.
"I thought before I lose my bearings or start hallucinating, I'm going to write my last letter and tell my last goodbyes to my friends and relations," Louis Rogers, of Lakeside, said Tuesday, two days after his rescue. "I told them to have faith in the Lord and don't go cracking up because we are going to see each other again."
Rogers — who has played guitar for big names in the country music business, including Merle Haggard and George Jones — left northwestern Montana's Flathead region Thursday to make a trip to Calder, Idaho. He decided to take the remote Gold Creek Road across the Bitterroot Mountains, a route he had taken several times before and which he knew could shave more than an hour off the trip.
After about nine miles and with dusk setting in, the road got too snowy for Rogers' 1996 Cadillac STS, which was loaded with musical equipment, so he decided to turn around — and got stuck in a snowbank. He checked his cell phone — no service.
"That is very rough country up there. There's nothing but big, steep mountains all around you," he said.
Rogers has health issues, including diabetes, liver troubles and a history of heart problems, so he decided to wait for help. He melted snow to drink and occasionally turned the car on to run the heater at night.
He slept very little the first night. On Friday morning, Rogers said he looked out the window and saw a silver wolf staring back at him 100 yards away. The wolf moved to within 75 yards of him before bounding down the mountainside.
Other than the wolf, he didn't see another living soul. Rogers said he spent his time praying and thinking about the mistakes he'd made in his life, but his thoughts kept going back to the wolf.
"The Indians say if a man ever gets in trouble, that is your guardian angel and he's there to make sure he watches you until you get out of danger," he said.
One night, Rogers repeatedly flashed his headlights at an airplane that was flying low directly above him and believes he got the pilot's attention, "but nothing came of it."
In the meantime, more than 200 friends and relatives spent the weekend searching for Rogers along with several law enforcement agencies. His sister, Iva Mather, 68, said rescuers searched for Rogers in Flathead County and in Idaho's Shoshone County, where he had been heading. She and her 50-year-old son participated in the search along with friends from the Flathead area and Idaho.
"You don't know what kind of a hell it is until you experience it," Mather said. "We were so happy, but I'll tell you what, it was a nightmare."
Rogers was weak and losing hope Sunday when a Coeur d'Alene couple, Scott and Penny Kalis, decided to go for a drive in the St. Regis area in their four-wheel-drive vehicle and came upon Rogers' car.
"She said, 'Well, what are you doing way up here?'" Rogers said. "I said, 'Dying, and if you don't believe it, here's the proof, and I showed her the letter.'
"I was serious because I thought I was a dead man," he added.
The couple returned Rogers to St. Regis. He did not require hospitalization and felt better after getting something to eat.
There is no phone listing in Coeur d'Alene for Scott and Penny Kalis and the Shoshone County Sheriff's Office did not immediately return a message for comment.
Rogers said he backed Haggard, Jones and a slew of other country stars from 1964 to 1967 when their tours brought them through California, where he was living at the time. He later moved to Washington state and back to Montana about 12 years ago, where he still writes music and performs.
Rogers is grateful to his rescuers, the service that towed his car for free, and for all the people who searched for him.
"I want to thank everybody who was looking for me and saying prayers for me. I love them all," Rogers told The Daily Inter Lake, which first reported the story. "You never know the friends that you have until something like this happens. I just feel really fortunate to have these friends."
Copyright © 2010 The Associated Press. All rights reserved.
By MATT VOLZ (AP)
(AP Photo/Lou Rogers)
HELENA, Mont. — A 67-year-old country musician from Montana who spent four days in his car stuck on a remote mountain road said he wrote a goodbye letter and was preparing himself for death when he was rescued.
"I thought before I lose my bearings or start hallucinating, I'm going to write my last letter and tell my last goodbyes to my friends and relations," Louis Rogers, of Lakeside, said Tuesday, two days after his rescue. "I told them to have faith in the Lord and don't go cracking up because we are going to see each other again."
Rogers — who has played guitar for big names in the country music business, including Merle Haggard and George Jones — left northwestern Montana's Flathead region Thursday to make a trip to Calder, Idaho. He decided to take the remote Gold Creek Road across the Bitterroot Mountains, a route he had taken several times before and which he knew could shave more than an hour off the trip.
After about nine miles and with dusk setting in, the road got too snowy for Rogers' 1996 Cadillac STS, which was loaded with musical equipment, so he decided to turn around — and got stuck in a snowbank. He checked his cell phone — no service.
"That is very rough country up there. There's nothing but big, steep mountains all around you," he said.
Rogers has health issues, including diabetes, liver troubles and a history of heart problems, so he decided to wait for help. He melted snow to drink and occasionally turned the car on to run the heater at night.
He slept very little the first night. On Friday morning, Rogers said he looked out the window and saw a silver wolf staring back at him 100 yards away. The wolf moved to within 75 yards of him before bounding down the mountainside.
Other than the wolf, he didn't see another living soul. Rogers said he spent his time praying and thinking about the mistakes he'd made in his life, but his thoughts kept going back to the wolf.
"The Indians say if a man ever gets in trouble, that is your guardian angel and he's there to make sure he watches you until you get out of danger," he said.
One night, Rogers repeatedly flashed his headlights at an airplane that was flying low directly above him and believes he got the pilot's attention, "but nothing came of it."
In the meantime, more than 200 friends and relatives spent the weekend searching for Rogers along with several law enforcement agencies. His sister, Iva Mather, 68, said rescuers searched for Rogers in Flathead County and in Idaho's Shoshone County, where he had been heading. She and her 50-year-old son participated in the search along with friends from the Flathead area and Idaho.
"You don't know what kind of a hell it is until you experience it," Mather said. "We were so happy, but I'll tell you what, it was a nightmare."
Rogers was weak and losing hope Sunday when a Coeur d'Alene couple, Scott and Penny Kalis, decided to go for a drive in the St. Regis area in their four-wheel-drive vehicle and came upon Rogers' car.
"She said, 'Well, what are you doing way up here?'" Rogers said. "I said, 'Dying, and if you don't believe it, here's the proof, and I showed her the letter.'
"I was serious because I thought I was a dead man," he added.
The couple returned Rogers to St. Regis. He did not require hospitalization and felt better after getting something to eat.
There is no phone listing in Coeur d'Alene for Scott and Penny Kalis and the Shoshone County Sheriff's Office did not immediately return a message for comment.
Rogers said he backed Haggard, Jones and a slew of other country stars from 1964 to 1967 when their tours brought them through California, where he was living at the time. He later moved to Washington state and back to Montana about 12 years ago, where he still writes music and performs.
Rogers is grateful to his rescuers, the service that towed his car for free, and for all the people who searched for him.
"I want to thank everybody who was looking for me and saying prayers for me. I love them all," Rogers told The Daily Inter Lake, which first reported the story. "You never know the friends that you have until something like this happens. I just feel really fortunate to have these friends."
Copyright © 2010 The Associated Press. All rights reserved.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Check this out!
I found this side called Help Others.org and it's pretty sweet. You can read stories about people who have done random acts of kindness and even download these cool smile cards that you can give to people who can then "pay it forward". Cool hey?
Reading some of these stories really made me think. I'm too often impatient with people who are moving too slow and somehow "inconveniencing" me when really I should think that maybe they're having a bad day or need some help. I think if more people tried to slow down a bit and take a look at the other person's situation, maybe both people would end up being happier.
Anyways, whether you agree or not, the cards are pretty sweet and they're free!
Reading some of these stories really made me think. I'm too often impatient with people who are moving too slow and somehow "inconveniencing" me when really I should think that maybe they're having a bad day or need some help. I think if more people tried to slow down a bit and take a look at the other person's situation, maybe both people would end up being happier.
Anyways, whether you agree or not, the cards are pretty sweet and they're free!
Monday, March 15, 2010
This is just adorable.
Thanks to my new Facebook BFF Amanda from the hilarious blog It's Blogworthy, here is Kittens inspired by kittens!
Also, this is the first, and last time you will see me use the letters "B" "F" and "F" in sequence.
Also, this is the first, and last time you will see me use the letters "B" "F" and "F" in sequence.
Strength in friendship
This was sent to me by my good friend Lindsay of The Watson Life. Not only did she want to share the information about a TV show called Always Good News which totally fits the theme of this blog, but she also wanted to share a personal story that was featured on the show. This story is about her sister-in-law's friend, Tanya, who passed away from cancer recently. Before she passed away, Tanya was presented with a beautiful quilt by her group of close friends. Each square in the quilt was lovingly made by Tanya's friends and family members who each incorporated their own version of love and friendship.
While this story is very sad, I also found it very inspiring. It especially gives truth to the quote, "They are rich who have true friends".- Thomas Fuller
Sunday, March 14, 2010
I've never heard of these before. Does that mean I'm lame or old? Or both.
Making an offering to the Panty Tree
LAKE LOUISE, Alberta -- Mike Stevenson found them under this bed at Lake Louise: A pair of panties. A thong, to be precise. White. He was 90% sure who the undies belonged to, and they were not his girlfriend's. The panties had to go, even though he swears they preceded his relationship with the gal.
He knew just the place, and so like a Rocky Mountain conquistador, Mr. Stevenson picked up the evidence, strapped on his snowboard, and headed to the backside of Lake Louise. Under the Paradise chairlift, the mountain's ricketiest ride, there is a larch tree, naked of needles but dripping with bloomers and brassieres.
"I thought: I can't throw these panties [in the garbage] when there's a panty tree," Mr. Stevenson said. He and a few buddies rode up the chair, and he cast the skivvies onto the designated trophy tree.
"It was a great shot. They landed right at the top, so they couldn't blow off."
Panty trees colourfully reflect mountain culture and are everyday sights at ski resorts far and wide. They are depositories for evidence of illicit excursions, acrobatic activities on chairlifts, and random stripping. Every shade of La Senza dangles above the snow.
"Lake Louise is one of the most romantic spots in the world, and it can be a real turn on," Charlie Locke, a Calgary oilman the mountain's majority owner, said. "It might be the ski hills' version of the mile high club."
Colorado's legendary Vail mountain claims it is home to the panty tree phenomenon, with the first decorated number showing up between 25 and 30 years ago, May Lilley, a spokeswoman for the resort, said. An aspen tree hosts undergarments at Vail, under its High Noon lift in the Sun Down Bowl.
Grand Marnier, the liqueur, took notice and once ran a print ad mentioning the unmentionables. "You just recognized a pair of panties in the Sun Down Bowl tree.... The conversation is waiting," it said.
Matt Mosteller made a contribution to Fernie's panty tree, a Douglas fir, last weekend while in British Columbia. He skied a run called Holo Hike, slipped into a dense cedar forest, and then peeled off his light blue boxers, size 34. They said "Life is Good" on the front and "Ski Bum" on the back.
"It was a tribute to how fortunate we are to be able to enjoy the mountains and skiing," he said. "Some sort of thank you."
The boxers were clean, Mr. Mosteller, the vice-president of marketing for Resorts of the Canadian Rockies, said.
Fernie's panty tree is at the beginning of the Holiday Trail, a beginner path. It sits near tower six on the Elk chair. Lake Louise's lingerie is displayed between towers eight and nine, just before the Paradise chair emerges from the trees and begins its climb over Paradise Bowl. The three-person lift gets powder hounds in and out of some of the mountain's toughest terrain.
Lake Louise's tree stands about 40 feet tall, and when you are riding up the lift, it is on the left side, just out of a ski pole's reach. Right now it is generously coated with offerings -- a reversible bra, purpley with white poke-a-dots on one side, solid peach on the other; an almost-sheer peachy underwire; a white bra with embroidered outlines of hearts. Numbers in teal, black, white, pink and other colours stuffed in underwear drawers around the globe also dot the tree.
A tree close to the panty tree hosts its own rogue underwear. Mardi Gras beads are common panty tree decorations, too.
There have been rumours of vigilantes chopping down panty trees in Vail, and complaints that racy, lacy bras have no place at family resorts and national parks. But the panty tree movement marches on.
Spring -- with its warm weather and fresh attitude -- means more garments strewn about. A 20-foot spruce under the Angel chair at Sunshine Village, Lake Louise's arch-rival, awaits further coating.
"It kind of reflects the whole ski culture," Doug Firby, a spokesman for Sunshine Village, said in a phone interview as he was riding the gondola up to that mountain. "Part of the culture is lifestyle, and tearing off your bra and throwing it on a tree just seems like a natural part of that whole culture.
"Skiers and snowboarders tend to be young people just having a great time," he said.
Indeed, back at Lake Louise, Mr. Stevenson said he has not repeated his panty catch-and-release feat, a move he completed four years ago during his first season at the global get-away. The 29-year old Kingston boy, who now draws draught at Lake Louise's Powder Keg pub for thirsty skiers and riders, said the panties he did toss were "boring," and the woman he hid them from his now out of the picture, too.
"I went on a pretty good tear when I got here," he said.
National Post
Read more: http://www.nationalpost.com/news/story.html?id=2677085#ixzz0iCJXS9oq The unveiling!
Well, I hope everyone is as excited as I am about the unveiling of my new blog. What I'm hoping for this particular blog is that, ultimately, people will come here when they need a bit of a pick me up or just some reassurance that the world isn't actually all that bad.
I would love to hear your suggestions and advice and please, if you see anything that you think would suit the "Good News" format, send it my way! My email is on the sidebar and please always include the link to the story/video and the source. I want to make sure I give out the proper credit. That being said, I'm new to this type of blog so, if you see any crediting errors or have any suggestion on how to credit people properly, please let me know!
The honor of the inaugural post goes to my home town news paper The Regina Leader-Post. The Leader-Post actually has a section devoted to good news called Good to Know! which I think is fantastic.
I would love to hear your suggestions and advice and please, if you see anything that you think would suit the "Good News" format, send it my way! My email is on the sidebar and please always include the link to the story/video and the source. I want to make sure I give out the proper credit. That being said, I'm new to this type of blog so, if you see any crediting errors or have any suggestion on how to credit people properly, please let me know!
The honor of the inaugural post goes to my home town news paper The Regina Leader-Post. The Leader-Post actually has a section devoted to good news called Good to Know! which I think is fantastic.
Regina couple help fight polio in west African country of Benin
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