Celtic Women and others - Christmas Video Playlist!

Click here to visit the North Pole!

Little Drummer Boy music and Christmas website

"My Love" Paul McCartney, written for his soul mate, Linda

Link to Ford Theater Productions @ Bliss Hall, YSU - 2009-2010 College of Fine and Performing Arts

Check out some of these great shows!

HAPPINESS by Raymond Carver

So early it's still almost dark out.
I'm near the window with coffee,
and the usual early morning stuff
that passes for thought.

When I see the boy and his friend
walking up the road
to deliver the newspaper.

They wear caps and sweaters,
and one boy has a bag over his shoulder.
They are so happy
they aren't saying anything, these boys.

I think if they could, they would take
each other's arm.
It's early in the morning,
and they are doing this thing together.

They come on, slowly.
The sky is taking on light,
though the moon still hangs pale over the water.

Such beauty that for a minute
death and ambition, even love,
doesn't enter into this.

Happiness. It comes on
unexpectedly. And goes beyond, really,
any early morning talk about it.

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Zachie and me among the cornstalks, September, 09

Zach's Birthday party

Zach and me at Whitehouse Fruit Farms on a class field trip-

Gathering Leaves by Robert Frost

Spades take up leaves
No better than spoons,
And bags full of leaves
Are light as balloons.

I make a great noise
Of rustling all day
Like rabbit and deer
Running away.

But the mountains I raise
Elude my embrace,
Flowing over my arms
And into my face.

I may load and unload
Again and again
Till I fill the whole shed,
And what have I then?

Next to nothing for weight,
And since they grew duller
From contact with earth,
Next to nothing for color.

Next to nothing for use.
But a crop is a crop,
And who's to say where
The harvest shall stop?

True Friend

STOPPING BY WOODS ON A SNOWY EVENING by Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Coming down the hill! Camping - July, 2009

Zach on pedal car, Yogi Bear Campgrounds-July, 2009

Marge and me at the "Almost Queen" concert, July, 2009

click this to read Eliot's poem - one of my most favorite poems

Time past and time future
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.
~ T.S. Eliot from The Four Quartets-Burnt Norton

ILLUSION
Time waits for noone, as many have said;
distrust for the clock always moving ahead.
Exchanging each moment, what next must we do?
Looking askance at that which is new.

Puzzles arriving for us to complete;
Troubles and worries alight at our feet.
The joys of each moment go by us unseen;
as pieces of puzzles don't fit in our dream.

For time's an illusion, that we can see;
Tomorrow's not certain, today we must be.
The moment is here for us to embrace;
Live in the present..the past can't erase.



Jan Luoma

The elusiveness of time-it's not always easy to focus on the moment, particularly when our dreams are so important.

"The Plumpuppets" by Christopher Morley

When little heads weary have gone to their bed,
When all the good nights and prayers have been said,
Of all the good fairies that send bairns to rest
The little Plumpuppets are those I love best.

If your pillow is lumpy, or hot, thin, and flat,
The little Plumpuppets know just what they're at:
They plump up the pillow, all soft, cool and fat-
The little plumpuppets plump-up it!

The little Plumpuppets are fairies of beds;
They have nothing to do but watch sleepyheads;
They turn down the sheets and they tuck you in tight,
And dance on your pillow to wish you good night!

Afternoon on a Hill - Edna St. Vincent Millay

I will be the gladdest thing
Under the sun!
I will touch a hundred flowers
And not pick one.

I will look at cliffs and clouds
With quiet eyes,
Watch the wind bow down the grass,
And the grass rise.

And when lights begin to show
Up from the town,
I will mark which must be mine,
And then start down!

Website about the unique Italian town on a hill, Civita, Bagnoregio

People are now visiting there because of the quiet and seclusion it offers. A walk up the hill to get there takes about 30 minutes!