Monday, June 22, 2009

Jeff Leal

Today we are praying for our leaders…

Ontario Government

Jeff Leal, MPP (Peterborough)

Current Parliamentary Roles

Member, Select Committee on Mental Health and Addictions
Vice-Chair, Standing Committee on Justice Policy
Parliamentary Assistant to the Minister of Aboriginal Affairs

Party
Ontario Liberal Party

Please pray for the Riding of Peterborough

Jeremiah 29:7
7 Also, seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you... Pray to the LORD for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper."

"Heavenly Father, I pray that Jeff would know your great blessing for his Life and Work today. I ask that the staff working in the Riding Office and doing the work for the community would also know God’s blessing on each one of them. May this day be a GREAT DAY for each one and that they would know “the peace and prosperity” that we pray for them. ~ Amen"


This Blog is part of the Ontario Provincial Chaplaincy ministry. It is committed to encouraging people to pray for and support our Leaders across Ontario. We pray for each of our MPPs and also each local and regional leader.

If you have a local leader that needs prayer today please share it in the Comments section – or email directly to prayforleaderstoday@gmail.com or ontario.chaplain@gmail.com

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Happy Father’s Day – Bill and Bruce

Today I want to honour Dads. Two Dads that stand out in my mind are named Bill and Bruce. What amazing men they are.

I first met Bill and Bruce when they were about my Grandsons Clifford’s or Jonathan’s age. Both boys were full of energy and spunk.

Both of these “boys” – married my daughters.

Now I apologize to both guys if I don’t get it exactly right before writing this note. I am sure that you will correct me – if this old guy is wrong or his memory is fading.

First account…
Bruce came from a family of four kids. He was number two in the line with an older brother and two younger – twin sisters.

As I write this today I am not sure which story to write about.

The one about Bruce and his brother placing one or both of their sisters in the dryer to give them a ride – round and round and round… could be one. Now I may have that story a bit twisted…

Or the one about him and his brother setting the field of grass on fire near the church his dad was the Minister at – may be another.

To understand you need to know that a busy minister’s family sometimes gets away with stuff that other families do not.

Now Bruce’s dad and mom were our close friends… and STILL ARE! I am not saying anything bad about Bruce…or his family… just commenting on the pieces of his life that I have gleaned over these years of listening and watching him. Ahem….

At one point it was decided that it would be good for Bruce to attend a private boy’s school. So off he went to the remote wilderness north of Winnipeg, Manitoba. Now it is not really that remote – but it is a long ways from Scarborough, Ontario!

At that school Bruce picked up the many talents and abilities that he owns today. His outdoorsman stuff likely came about with his extensive canoe adventures into Manitoba’s wilderness areas. His knowledge of Bees and Bee Keeping comes from working with the Apiculture in an Apiary of the school. His ability to snowshoe also came as result of taking part in this boy’s school.

He has no problem climbing on to a dog sled and “mushing” his team to victory across frozen tundra… feeding and harnessing and whatever else is involved in working with the kind of “trained wolves” that pull the sleigh.

He arrived at the school when he was 14 – the same age as his son is now.

The first thing they did was to launch out on a 350 MILE canoe trip. He had to borrow someone’s better suited pieces of clothing to take on this endeavour.

Later on he did 48 mile snow shoe race at 14 or 15 as well.

Bruce is amazing. He is a great dad and he is my friend… as well as being my son-in-law.

The Second Account
Today when I called Bill to wish him a Happy Father’s Day he wasn’t home. He had been out on a series of Baseball Diamonds that the kids play on… since 5 AM… trying to clean up the surface and repair the damage done by the big rains of yesterday. In about an hour he would be home to have breakfast with his four sons.

Bill never knew his father Bill personally. His dad was a Minister in a church in British Columbia. His dad died in an airplane crash in the mountains as he piloted the airplane up a canyon surrounded by mountains. As near as they can guess, a downdraft took the plane into the mountain side.

Bill’s mom was about 5 months pregnant with Bill.

Bill’s mom was helped by her parents Rev. and Mrs Harold Barnes to raise their grandson “Billy”. The Barnes became his parents as well as he grew up.

As I knew Rev. Barnes he was never an athlete or and out-of-doors kind of guy. His wife was definitely not – nor was his mom, Lois. Yet through the other men in the church that Bill attended he picked up all the right kind of stuff to help him survive in the great out of doors.

I am sure that men like Mr. Jim Crawford were the strength and example that was needed in Bill’s boyhood years as he grew up. There was also a host of other men that fit alongside to help Bill know what manhood and fatherhood was about.

Bill really came into my life when he was a young man just out of high school. I was the Youth Pastor at the church he attended. And through a number of church activities I came to know him.

The fact that I had another cute daughter helped to attract him into my life as well – I am sure.


Bill had heard that I worked with wood and that I was repairing furniture of all kinds.

One day he brought his father’s gun to show me the damage to the rifle. The rifle had been in the airplane that had crashed when his father died. Firearms experts had told Bill that they couldn’t repair the rifle stock that had been shattered from the impact. He asked me what I thought.

Before long the rifle was like new. You can hardly tell where the break used to be. It is a treasure that he and I share together… a moment when I think I adopted him into my life… long before he made his planes to marry my daughter.

As I watch him enjoy all the things that his dad once so much enjoyed, he now is a great dad to his four sons – enjoying it with them. Together there are enjoying the outdoors and the sports that they so much love together.

Bill is amazing. He is a great dad and he is my friend… as well as being my son-in-law.

Reflections…
If you can sense pride in what I write today… well you are correct in sensing it. I am proud of my “boys” – first the two of them – Bruce and Bill – my son-in-laws. I don’t want to wait until I am near death to say that.

I am also proud of my five other boys – my grandsons… Clifford, Jonathan, Thomas, Michael and Christopher… all great dads-to-be – someday. (AND I can’t forget Emma – who will be an amazing mom!)


Bill and Bruce – Happy Fathers Day!

Love,
Dad

* * * * * * * * * * *
~ Murray Lincoln ~
www.murraylincoln.com

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Visiting the Old Carpenter’s Shop Again

The early morning sunbeams bounced across the floor of the shop. It almost danced with glee as the day arrived.

I am early for my day’s appointment with visitors to the Village. I am not sure who will come to share the events of the day. This is before time begins.

This is one of the most amazing scenes – just before the activity starts.
Outside the birds are singing their clear and crisp day song. They have been in bed long enough. It is time to start the day.

As I stood watching the scene open before I was reflecting of this small village and all that it has meant to the folk that began here. I thought of their kids as they played on the very old and unpaved street. So many dreams over the years – some many fulfilled and some unfulfilled. Time has moved on.

The Lang Pioneer Village is a pause in time from the bustle of the “Other Ontario” where all things move at a million miles an hour.

Lang Village started in and around 1856 with the first folk came from Scotland and the other areas of the British Aisles. They came with hope and vision – and sometimes little more. With this H & V factor they carved out a special place for their generations to follow.

On this day I become a part of the life of the Village by becoming the carpenter of 1856 again.

It wasn’t long for the reverie. It was broken by, “WOW! Let’s go in here…” Excited young voices danced over each other to find a place in my Carpenter Shop. Their bight eyes watched my every move as I demonstrated the things that the ancient carpenters once held in their husky hands.
I began my day with, “Welcome to the Hastie Carpenter Shop. My name is Grandpa Lincoln….”

During the morning at a lull I couldn’t help think of the original Grandpa that had stood in this shop and welcomed his grandkids. That man died almost 100 years ago… but some how it felt as if he was still there. NO – I did not see a ghost of an old carpenter! By the imagination that God gave me is very active.

I couldn’t help thinking that the Old Scott, Mr. Hastie, was happy again to see his shop field with bright eyes again. I think he grinned when the skinny little guy tried to hold the large wooden mallet.

May you find a place to savour some memories this summer.

~ Murray Lincoln ~
http://www.murraylincoln.com/

Friday, June 19, 2009

Dear Prime Minister Stephen Harper and Mr. Michael Ignatieff

Dear Prime Minister Stephen Harper and Mr. Michael Ignatieff:

I am, and we are, impressed to say the least! Dialogue! WOW! And not just a little political posturing – you guys actually talked about the issues at hand and the ones that are important to all of us.

As a Canadian I “THANK YOU” for being able to talk before acting in the way that the Media said you would.

The Media certainly had us frightened that we would be spending huge amounts of money again on an election that none of us wanted.

By the way if you have noticed the NDP and BLOQ leaders have not been quoted in the News Media about what you have accomplished. It is unlikely that they don’t want to comment. Mr. Layton is likely going to have an uncomfortable weekend because you talked.

If you haven’t noticed yet… every time your parties go to the polls you drop in numbers from the last time that you went. I believe the vote goes to the NDP in English Canada – and the BLOQ in French Canada gain more votes. People that are tired of the bickering between the “Big Parties” simply go over to the other guys.

Locally I have had people tell me that they intend to do just that to punish the so called leadership.

What’s that you say? A Wasted Vote? I asked that question too… The answer was, “No way – it’s not wasted. It was wasted last time I voted. The leadership again is not working together to Make Canada Grow. So the next time I will definitely make a move to the way out parties!”

Every time we don’t get along or show the innate hatred for each other – some one slips in and takes away something we value. That is sad.

Another man in a coffee shop meeting this week stated an even scarier thing. He said, “Vote…? Who ever will Vote again? Not me. It is a perfectly good waste of time to go to that silly voting station. They never do what I ask them to do anyway!”

The fact is that we are tired of the silliness that has been portrayed so often by the Media.

I am holding my breath today because I know that you guys are dealing with the really big issues and the VOTE in the House.

Sorry I cannot wait around to see if you finally do/did agree. I have to go speak to Hundreds of Kids at Lang Pioneer Village. I am going to share with them how Canada started in the Back Woods of Ontario(and all the rest of the Provinces). I will be telling them how everyone worked together to build their community. I will share with them how everyone got together and helped everyone else to build their houses and barns and stores and even the chicken coup. They were community – they were together.

In the 1856 Carpenter Shop there is an old stove that sits in the middle of the room. It appears to warm the shop. But it did way more than that.

When I was a boy my Grandpa had a shop almost like the one at Lang Pioneer Village. And in the shop there was a stove. Around the stove the men gathered to talk and share ideas. In my imagination today it was the basis for what Canada’s Government was all about. Talking together and sharing common purpose.

I want to say thank you again. I admire you for taking what appears to be three whole days to talk to each other.

In a year or so when hopefully the Next Election comes along – I am going to vote for both of you!

~ Murray Lincoln ~
http://www.murraylincoln.com/

PS – I likely won’t get much reaction or response from you on this post… but have a great day anyway!

Source:
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/politics/harper-ignatieff-hash-out-ei-deal-in-bid-to-stave-off-election/article1184345/

Thursday, June 18, 2009

So what is the best way to swat a fly?

Working in my garage in the last little while as the warm weather is coming along – I have had visitors. The mosquitoes and flies have arrived from wherever they were hiding during the cold months.

Summer is here this weekend and so are the bugs.

Now carving wood entails the use of very sharp knives. Trying to swat a mosquito or a fly with a super sharp blade in your hand is not good – specially if the bug lands on your own leg. One swat here would sever an important artery for sure. The thought makes me shudder a little.

The other night I swung the blade at the fly in a Zorro fashion – swish swish swish – and the fly laughed at me, come back again and again.

I did acquire a powerful bug zapper that simply does the little bugs in – and big ones too. Hornets and Wasps will come down in a daze after meeting my super swatter. But then you need to apply a little shoe leather to dispatch the sucker.

Oddly enough as I have been inventing new ways to kill the little buggers… this morning’s news release is so good that I couldn’t miss sharing what is the most important fly in the world.

In a recent interview President Obama was being bothered by a fly. It was a big day and anything that the President of the USA says is powerful and important. The Black Fly interrupted the procedure.

Imagine…
The night before the small Black Fly had enjoyed an evening out with his friends, doing what Black Flies do best… enjoying the sights, the smells and the food stuff that they had found near a large White House. In all likelihood they had been discovering some of the presents left behind by “Bo”, the President’s Dog. “Bo” had been out walking the day before and had deposited some Presidential Gifts for Secret Service Men to discover as they patrol the White House Lawns for terrorists and such.

The morning sun had come and the late sleeping Black Fly had found some warmth in the Sun Shine… and then leapt into flight with the kick of his tiny legs – and he was off on another day of discovery.

It may have been a lapse in security or simply an open window when the folk of that day entered the White House in Washington. I am not sure – he had arrived where no fly had flown before – at least that day.

Within the hour he had found a room of bright lights, electrical chords and people. Sitting in a dark suit was a man of focus. He was answering questions and presenting policy to the world. This black suited individual was more powerful than any person that Mr. Black Fly had ever circled before. He even smelled good.

Within seconds of the Black Fly’s discovery of the smell and the object of his new affection – he learned to manoeuvre the air current and the spittle of the suited man. Shoulder… nose… head… hair… arm… leg… back and front… Black Fly savoured the man.

This Black Fly was flying where no Fly had been before… all around the President of the USA. Close up and personal.

No person or being in the World would ever be allowed this close kind of visit. Security personnel would be all over them if they touched the President.

Black Fly was also being filmed so that Billions would see his abilities to make an impression on the President.

The camera fixed its lens on the President as the Black Fly swished by… the President excused himself because of his attention being drawn to Black Fly…

Then with careful concentration, the President of the USA, on camera, with absolute precision – SMACK he got Black Fly as he landed on the man’s left hand.

Believe it or not – the million dollar interview was stalled by a Black Fly… but then in seconds he was laying on the hard floor beside the President of the USA. The camera zoomed into the catch this important dead Black Fly…

Tom Geoghegan, of the BBC News magazine told me the story and showed the actual footage that was captured with a President Killing a Fly. Too cool!

To complete the start of my day he suggested the following 10 steps to Kill a Fly. I hope you enjoy them.

Hey – have great big wonderful day!!!!

So what is the best way to swat a fly? Here are 10 suggestions.

1. Do it early in the day, says Max Barclay, an insect expert at the Natural History Museum. "Because they are cold-blooded, the reactions of insects depend on the temperature of the air. Early in the morning or in the evening they will be a bit dopey, but in the heat of the day they will be very quick." But expect failure. Barack Obama was probably quite lucky, unless he's been practising. "Nine times out of 10, a human will come off second best. Flies have a phenomenal barrage of senses, half of which we don't have."

2. Approach from behind, goes one theory, because flies take off backwards. Anecdotal evidence suggests some people find this a successful method. But the fact that flies have 360-degree vision and can jump in any direction makes it improbable.

3. Aim ahead, rather than at, the fly say researchers in the US, who found that within milliseconds of sensing a threat, flies get their body ready to take off forward, backwards or sideways. "Given that they are going to be jumping away from the swat, it's best to aim slightly ahead of it," says Michael Dickinson, of the California Institute of Technology. Although how far ahead depends on the speed of the fly. He's been studying take-offs for five years, using video that provides 5,400 frames a second of a fly's precise motion when threatened with a swatting.

4. The old-fashioned slap , now known as The Barack. Stay still, keep focused, take aim and attack. Ideal for a fast hand and if the fly is stationary. And if the world's media is in attendance. YouTube fame beckons.

5. Implements with holes are more effective, says Dr Peter Barnard, director of science at the Royal Entomological Society. "It's the air pressure they detect and fly away from. It's not so much that they see something coming, but they feel the pressure wave in front of the object." This is due to their coating of microscopic hairs, highly sensitive to air movement. Practising what he preaches, Dr Barnard uses a plastic pistol that fires a holed circular device. A fly swat gun, if you will.

6. Use chopsticks, like the Karate Kid. Under guidance from his instructor Mr Miyagi, teenager Daniel LaRusso demonstrates his speed and hand-eye coordination, and learns an important life lesson at the same time. Mr Miyagi's advice - "Man who catch fly with chopstick accomplish anything" - features on T-shirts in homage to the 1984 film.

7. Put hands either side of the fly, facing each other, so it doesn't know where the threat comes from, then clap the air a few inches above it. Wash hands immediately to remove the contents of the fly's stomach (don't ask).

8. Get a gadget. At the hi-tech end of the market there's an electric-powered mesh, a dome complete with pheromone and an insecticide aerosol. For those on a budget, there are decorative window stickers or pens to coat windows with transparent insecticide, and fly-swats cost as little as £2. Animal rights organisation PETA, which advocates compassion for flies, says there are humane bug-catching devices available too.


9. Improvise with a rolled-up newspaper (bear in mind point five, above), or a spray window-cleaner.


10. The humane approach - to capture but not kill. "I like to grab them in my hands," says Mr Barclay, who's had plenty of practice. "When you want them for a collection you don't want them damaged. Hit them with the palm of your hand and close your fingers over it." And if you're not an entomologist, release the fly outside. It will make you feel better.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

“Streee-ike Three… the Batters out!”

I am the Grandpa to two Teenagers now. Wow!

Yesterday my second Grandson, Jonathan Rourke, had his 13th Birthday. Two months ago my first Grandson Clifford Lindsay had his 14th Birthday.

Where did the time go? They are both as big as me now and growing very quickly to become much, much taller. I know that I would not try to wrestle them now as some part of me would hurt for days after… with each of them only getting slightly red in the face.

Did I mention that both are handsome young men now?

I remember the day that they arrived. My heart beat faster as the final announcement came about each birth. What a happy day each was.

We had been the proud parents of two daughters… no sons. I had no idea what to do with boys. And everyday since these guys have been teaching me what should have been done… should be done… or might happen soon.

Today Clifford is in Quebec City. Jonathan is off to the last few days of school for this week. They are both soon to be men. One will enter Grade Nine and the other will enter Grade Eight.

Both of these years of school I remember vividly in my own life. There were hundreds of awakenings for me in these two years they are facing. Some I did well in and others were not so good.

I imagine that will happen for these guys too.

Grad is coming for Clifford next week. It has been rumoured that he has made a Dean’s List. I knew he was bright – but that is way past bright, it is brilliant – if it happens.

I am using Clifford more in this story today in that I have a recent photo of his latest achievement of Umpiring Baseball games.

A few years ago we watched a little squirt walk out to a home plate and shoulder a bat for the first time – swinging and sometimes hitting. Then I witnessed a young boy grow with his speed and ability and become a cool baseball player that can really hit, can pitch well, is an outstanding out fielder and all round great kid.

Two days ago I saw that same little tyke, small boy, growing baseball player, sharp and alert teen ball player – take a new step. He is now a paid Umpire with a much deeper voice.

The ball swished by the batter and I heard, “Stree-ike”, loud and clear from a husky voice that is changing quickly. I looked at Alida and shook my head saying, “That is our Clifford! Can you believe it?”

Some one walked by Grandpa and Grandma Lincoln and asked us if our grandson was on one of the teams. “No, we are here for the Umpire” was my reply – which brought an odd response. Not every Ump has his grandparents sitting there for him.

I have found that you can’t really help the Ump by cheering him on.

I had told Clifford that I would yell out, “Kill the Umpire!” He grinned and told me kindly that he could throw me out of the game now. And he meant what he said. He has the power with this new job!!!

Just as the game was about to start I did walk up behind the chain link fence and yell it out for him to get the idea that I was there. Too funny. People did look at me strangely in that there had been now Umpire Calls yet.

As I reflect on what is happening with my Grandkids – all six of them – there is a Bound that has taken place that is amazing.

Emma, Jonathan, Thomas, Michael and Christopher all come to give both Grandpa and Grandma a hug. They are still young – so it is not un-cool to do so. But a time will come when we stop hugging. Clifford is there now.

I mean – how un-cool would it be for a hulk of an Umpire to stop the game and come over to hug an old geezer that just yelled out “Kill the Umpire!”

I was in Youth Court not long ago. One young and dishevelled youngster was standing before the Judge. His head was hung down as the things were said about him and to him. Beside him was a young man that was identified as his “youth worker”. There was no mom or dad, no grandpa or grandma, simply no one. He was 13 years old. And I nearly cried out loud in court for the young boy with no one to give a ding dong to even show up for him.

“Streee-ike Three… the Batters out!” the husky voice called out.

And I wanted to stand up and yell at the top of my lungs… “THAT IS MY GRANDSON!” – but I couldn’t get out of the lawn chair without some effort and then again I had tears in my eyes… so I muttered with a grin on my face… “That is MY grandson and I am so proud of him!”

When I called Jonathan yesterday to wish him Happy Birthday… I could hear him grin on the phone. Too cool… way too cool… for old guys like me.

~ Murray Lincoln ~
http://www.murraylincoln.com/
Clifford Ross Lindsay
Jonathan William Rourke

Monday, June 15, 2009

Billy the Bee and a Space Shuttle

High above the earth the Space Shuttle carries out its work. The very act of getting this great vehicle into orbit around the earth to do the work that it does gets great media fan fare. When the final moments of leaving the earth takes place cameras click wildly to capture the instant success of this great machine leaving the confines of its terrestrial ball.

It is amazing as to say the least – this idea of flight of something so large moving out against the odds of its size and weight and wind span.

Yesterday… Yesterday while sitting on the front porch and listening to the world go by the familiar hum of a very large bumble bee came into our zone. It hummed happily around the large flower pots that hand from the edge of the porch.

I gave him the logical name of “Billy the Bee” and he has become one of our other pets now. He comes frequently to attend to his duties of messing with the flowers.
Recently when the cold air came rushing in during the evening I found him laying beside the van. He was moving but not very well so I picked him up and lifted him to the side of the driveway to rest out of the way of danger. The next morning he was up and at it again when the warm sun made movement easier.

As I watched him manoeuvre from flower to flower and then to the next pot it was amazing. Such ease and ability shown in this fuzzy ball of an insect! How does he do it?
When he finally landed it was again getting cool and my guess is his flying mechanism was tiring and slowing down again. But why wouldn’t it – he had been at it since early in the morning?

I had told the story about the Bee not being able to fly because of its weight and structure recently. I began to wonder if that story was true or not. So I did a little searching and Bingo… there was and answer or sorts.

From Ken Zetie… quote…
But how did the myth about bees not being able to fly start? When does the story date back to? J McMasters states that the story was prevalent in the German technical universities in the 1930s, starting with the students of the aerodynamicist Ludwig Prandtl at Gottingen. The story goes that a noted Swiss aerodynamicist, whom McMasters does not name, was talking to a biologist at dinner. The biologist asked about the flight of bees and the Swiss gentleman did a "back-of-the-napkin" calculation of the kind I described earlier, assuming a rigid, smooth wing and so on. Of course, he found that there was insufficient lift and went off to find out the correct answer.

In the meantime, the biologist put the word around that bees could not fly, presumably to show that nature was greater than engineering, and the media picked up the story. The truth, then as now, wasn't newsworthy, so a correction was never publicized. The people I meet, therefore, continue to tell me that science is a load of crock because it once proved that bumblebees cannot fly. And they will not hear otherwise, especially not from a scientist.
End quote…

Ken Zetie did offer a great explanation… quote…
So how do bees fly then? And why do they need to flap their wings while jumbo jets don't? These turn out to be very interesting questions that reveal a lot of physics. Jumbo jets have fixed wings because their wing area and speed are large enough to satisfy the lift equations for flight. But the small wings on a bumble-bee are much less efficient. Coupled with low speeds and the high drag on a wing when flapping, it might appear, at first glance, that insects cannot fly and that most birds can't get off the ground either.

However, some brilliant work by Torkel Weis-Fogh, professor of zoology at Cambridge University in the 1970s, showed us how small insects fly. His ideas also lead to some rather neat insights into nature's cunning. An insect's wing works by encouraging air to flow over it in such a way that when the air leaves the rear edge of the wing it moves downwards. The resultant eddy produces an upwards thrust on the wing. Unfortunately, it takes time to make a good eddy, and the wing has to move a distance a few times its length to get things started. This makes it tricky if you are going to flap, as the maximum travel of a wing is roughly its length and very little lift is generated for most of the stroke.
Nature has come up with a number of interesting solutions to this problem, of which the "clap-fling" is a good example.
When a small bird or insect wants to take off, it needs a lot of lift. It therefore brings its wings together above its back so that they clap, expelling air from between them. When the wings then separate, air is quickly drawn in to fill the void. The wings are flung apart and lift is immediately generated because the air is already moving in the correct way. You can even hear the clap, for example, in the characteristic whirring of a pheasant taking off. Almost 2000 years ago Virgil recorded in The Aeneid that a rock dove claps its wings as it takes off. (In fact he stole the passage from Homer, but added the bit about the clapping.)
End quote…

Now I feel better…
The rocket that takes the Space Shuttle’s massive weight is big enough that it explodes to break all the gravitational pull on it to keep it on earth. When it leaves there is a might roar or air turbulence.

The Bumble Bee simply beats the air around his wings until lift is created… breaking the gravitational pull on its body. the resultant hum is likely some of the clapping and wind turbulence that is created. Every time he flies he creates a small tornado.

(My contention is that the Bee can still beat the Space Shuttle in a proportionate race. But that is another thought rolling around.)

What is important about my story today? Bees? Space Shuttle? Nope – neither matter that much to me.

What is important is the front porch after a warm day of “doing”… I simply sat and did my “being”… by doing nothing.

I love that front porch and the peace that comes there. The sun is setting on the other side of the house where it is quite warm. The porch side is cool, quiet and my place of solitude. The Bee’s hum was the only thing that breaks that reverie.

This morning I slipped out early to meet the Sun again. He arrived on time and my world began again.

For 10 years of doing in Peterborough I was too busy to sit and listen. People stuff clouded good days and bad days – and brought both together. Now I can sit and listen… to what was there all the time.

What was I thinking? I should have retired 9 years and 364 days ago!

This is all good… very, very good. I’m loving it!

~ Murray Lincoln ~
http://www.murraylincoln.com/

Source:
Space Shuttle
http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/2009/05/hubbles_final_servicing_missio.html
Ken Zetie
http://www.wolfson.ox.ac.uk/~ben/zetie1.htm