Breakfast:
oatmeal/raisins/flax/Silk
Chocolate Silk
Lunch:
cabbage rice soup/ chocolate Silk/pickled beets/PB & J
Dinner:
Subway BLT 12 on honey oat/bacon/lettuce/tomato/green pepper/onion/olive/mayo/cheddar
BBQ chips/root beer
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Monday, May 3, 2010
Monday 5-3-10
Breakfast:
oatmeal/raisins/flax/Silk
Lunch:
cabbage soup; baby pickled beets; chocolate Silk
Dinner:
Subway BLT on honey oat with: cheddar/lettuce/tomatoes/onions/bacon/pickles [accidental]/ green peppers/cucumbers/olives/mayo
BBQ chips/ coke + Sprite
oatmeal/raisins/flax/Silk
Lunch:
cabbage soup; baby pickled beets; chocolate Silk
Dinner:
Subway BLT on honey oat with: cheddar/lettuce/tomatoes/onions/bacon/pickles [accidental]/ green peppers/cucumbers/olives/mayo
BBQ chips/ coke + Sprite
Sunday, May 2, 2010
The Twelfth Day of Ridvan
A very holy day.
I again attended Farsi class in Burien with the youngsters, who already speak Farsi in their homes, but are learning to write it. The instructor, Saeid, is an instrument maker. He had recently met my friends Tim and Deb who publish a magazine for instrument makers, coincidentally. Today he mentioned that he had seen their magazine while he still lived in Iran. He makes "tars," a traditional fretted Persian instrument, and today I got to see a tar he made.
Two large lobes from mulberry wood form the body, and the neck is also from mulberry; there is lambskin stretched across the body cavity; the frets are of camel bone, and the strings are of gut. It is beautiful. I realize that it would be difficult to make most instruments without using parts from animals, but what a beautiful use of them.
One of the students played a violin piece during the break, the teacher played a piece on the tar, and another student played a traditional Iranian melody on the recorder. I was enchanted.
This afternoon we celebrated Ridvan at Lisa's house in Salishan, subsidized housing which has been rebuilt recently. The old, WWII-era houses were falling apart. The new neighborhood is beautiful. Lisa's home has become a hub of children's classes and activities since the direct teaching there in the last few months. Parents trust their children to Lisa, as they know her from the school where she works. We had about six adults and many children at the holy day today, and we were singing songs of unity and songs the children sing at their classes.
Later I was, to my surprise, invited to a home visit where we studied the Baha'i scriptures on honesty at the home of Jeff, another gentleman contacted recently. He said he felt that God had attracted the Baha'is to his door. He is so friendly and spiritually deepened, and had so many stories illustrating his life of relying on God continually. "Who knows what the day will bring, it could bring anything. Who knows if we'll still be here? We could be there." ~ lyrics by Gerry Rafferty.
Before we left I offered a song based on this verse from Baha'u'llah, which I find so touching:
To gather jewels have I come to this world. If one speck of a jewel lie hid in a stone, and that stone be beyond the seven seas, until I have found and secured that jewel my hand shall not stay from its rest.
~Baha'u'llah.
To me it contains a message that, no matter how obscurely we can be hidden, Baha'u'llah can see our hearts and connect with us.
I again attended Farsi class in Burien with the youngsters, who already speak Farsi in their homes, but are learning to write it. The instructor, Saeid, is an instrument maker. He had recently met my friends Tim and Deb who publish a magazine for instrument makers, coincidentally. Today he mentioned that he had seen their magazine while he still lived in Iran. He makes "tars," a traditional fretted Persian instrument, and today I got to see a tar he made.
Two large lobes from mulberry wood form the body, and the neck is also from mulberry; there is lambskin stretched across the body cavity; the frets are of camel bone, and the strings are of gut. It is beautiful. I realize that it would be difficult to make most instruments without using parts from animals, but what a beautiful use of them.
One of the students played a violin piece during the break, the teacher played a piece on the tar, and another student played a traditional Iranian melody on the recorder. I was enchanted.
This afternoon we celebrated Ridvan at Lisa's house in Salishan, subsidized housing which has been rebuilt recently. The old, WWII-era houses were falling apart. The new neighborhood is beautiful. Lisa's home has become a hub of children's classes and activities since the direct teaching there in the last few months. Parents trust their children to Lisa, as they know her from the school where she works. We had about six adults and many children at the holy day today, and we were singing songs of unity and songs the children sing at their classes.
Later I was, to my surprise, invited to a home visit where we studied the Baha'i scriptures on honesty at the home of Jeff, another gentleman contacted recently. He said he felt that God had attracted the Baha'is to his door. He is so friendly and spiritually deepened, and had so many stories illustrating his life of relying on God continually. "Who knows what the day will bring, it could bring anything. Who knows if we'll still be here? We could be there." ~ lyrics by Gerry Rafferty.
Before we left I offered a song based on this verse from Baha'u'llah, which I find so touching:
To gather jewels have I come to this world. If one speck of a jewel lie hid in a stone, and that stone be beyond the seven seas, until I have found and secured that jewel my hand shall not stay from its rest.
~Baha'u'llah.
To me it contains a message that, no matter how obscurely we can be hidden, Baha'u'llah can see our hearts and connect with us.
The Story of Joseph
I was in line at the grocery store, thinking about writing to my mother, and what to write about. I remembered one of my best memories from when we used to go up the logging roads in Idaho to pick huckleberries to one of our favorite places. There was a hillside with one or two abandoned autos, many huckleberry bushes, but also a beautiful stream.
I remember this stream as the ultimate Platonic ideal stream: deep in the forest, surrounded with greenery, bubbling over mossy stones, it looked like the photo model for one of those streams in the Kool cigarette ads. I sat with my mother by this stream and she mentioned that we were not far from where Chief Joseph had traveled while being pursued by the Army. She told me this story, and what he said when he surrendered--not captured, but surrendered: "I will fight no more forever."
I imagine this was to save the people of the village from further bloodshed.
Now I've been honored to meet, through the Baha'i Faith, relatives of Chief Joseph.
In my mind I call this "Chief Joseph Stream."
I remember this stream as the ultimate Platonic ideal stream: deep in the forest, surrounded with greenery, bubbling over mossy stones, it looked like the photo model for one of those streams in the Kool cigarette ads. I sat with my mother by this stream and she mentioned that we were not far from where Chief Joseph had traveled while being pursued by the Army. She told me this story, and what he said when he surrendered--not captured, but surrendered: "I will fight no more forever."
I imagine this was to save the people of the village from further bloodshed.
Now I've been honored to meet, through the Baha'i Faith, relatives of Chief Joseph.
In my mind I call this "Chief Joseph Stream."
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