Library Title

The Library is not arranged by category but instead, is placed rather randomly hoping that will add a bit of spice & variety to your reading.   Seriously now, the Library doesn't have to be a somber place - so I hope to catch you smiling (at least once....)

Pocket Watch

~ Wakeup Calls~

The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings, but shorter tempers; wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less. We buy more, but enjoy it less.

We have bigger houses and smaller families; more conveniences, but less time; we have more degrees, but less sense; more knowledge, but less judgment; more experts, but more problems; more medicine, but less wellness.

We've done larger things, but not better things. We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We've split the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We've learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information to produce more copies than ever, but have less communication.

These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion; tall men and short character; steep profits and shallow relationships. These are the times of world peace, but domestic warfare; more leisure, but less fun; more kinds of food, but less nutrition.

We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry too quickly, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too seldome, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom. We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too little, and hate too often.

We've learned how to make a living, but not a life; we've added years to life, not life to years. We've been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet the new neighbor. We've conquered outer space, but not inner space.

These are days of two incomes, but more divorce; of fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throw-away morality, one-night stands and pills that do everything from cheer to quiet, to kill.

It is a time when there is much in the "show window" and nothing in the "stockroom"; a time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete.

by: George Carlin


The Color of Happiness

We start so young being influenced by the world around us and those people with whom we come in contact. Often times the shaping of our very being can be such a painful process, but we each must go through it.

Little by little, we learn to bend as we are molded into what others want us to be. Little by little, we learn to display what others want to see, and put aside the parts of us that others don't seem to wish to acknowledge. Those parts aren't always bad... it's just that others can't seem to handle dealing with them. As if in some great dance, we learn the social proprieties of life.

So it is we begin creating caverns inside. So it is we learn how to please others... and how to get attention. We begin the weaving of a person.

As we venture through life, the process continues. We are continually forced into the molds of other's expectations. We are compartmentalized into their little boxes that keep them safe and content. We sometimes do it to ourselves as well, but more often than not, it is our desire and need to be accepted... to be wanted... to be loved... and so we bend, and we weave, and re-route our circuitry for the sake of belonging and pleasing others. We learn that even though we love to color in our books with reds, that everyone is coloring in blue... so we put our red crayons down in exchange for a blue one. We may not like being part of the games that are being played on the playground, but it's the only way that we can become part of the group, and so we join in.

The weaving sometimes gets so very complex. We find ourselves in the looms of life and we spin and turn and bend. The tapestry being woven with the fibers of our soul and spirit. There are times when we feel like we will burst if we don't get to express ourselves, but more often than not, we hold those pleasures deep inside.

Then one day... we learn how tightly woven we've become. We learn that all of those feeling from inside are really us, just trying to get out... just trying to express themselves. It is that realization that gives us the feeling of being lost... the feeling of captivity... the feeling of not being able to realize those dreams. Even into adulthood we put down our red crayons and color our world with blue.

There comes a time when we feel ourselves letting go. Some are able to do it in a manner acceptable to society. Others are not so fortunate. But soon, we learn that if we don't let go... if we don't fulfill our dreams that we will bend to the point of breaking and become nothing more than little splinters of ourselves.

Then it happens ~ we begin to say what we feel... we begin to sing songs we've always loved. We begin to dance the dance of the music in our heart. We find ourselves stretching, dreaming outloud, twirling and swirling in happiness because that day comes when we free ourselves of everyone's expectations. That day comes when we finally say, "But that's not me...that's you". It is then, that we sing the loudest. It is then that we find our red crayons and the whole world takes on a different color. We are freed!  That color is called HAPPINESS.

(Author Unknown to Me)

Red Crayon


Different Drums and Different Drummers

If I don't want what you want... please try not to tell me that my want is wrong.

Or... if I believe other than you, at least pause before you correct my view.

Or...if my emotion is more than yours, or less, given the same circumstances, try not to ask me to feel more or less. I feel what I feel.

Or... yet if I act in some way other than your design for action, let me be. I do not - for the moment, at least - ask you to understand me. That will come only when you are willing to give up trying to change me into a copy of you.

I may be your spouse, your employee, your child, your parent, or your friend. If you will allow me any of my own wants, emotions, beliefs or actions, then you open yourself so that someday these ways of mine might not seem so wrong... and might finally appear to you as right...for me

To put up with me is the first step to understanding me. Not that you embrace my way as right for you... but that you are no longer irritated or disappointed with me for my being "different than you".

And in understanding me, you might come to prize my differences from you, and far from seeking to change them... you might preserve and even nurture those differences.

(Author Unknown to me.)

"Just an Ol' Alley Cat..."

(For "Sneakers")

They came to the barn and found me,
and before I could run or hide...
They snatched me from my mama
and carried me away - outside!

I heard my mama crying,
but I couldn't even look back,
'Cause they held me by my head and neck
and shoved me into a sack!

My heart was beating hard and fast -
there was nothing I could see...
I learned the taste of fear that day
for what they did to me!

They took me to a pet store,
and just for some small wage...
They yanked me from the dirty sack
and pushed me into a cage!

That was quite some weeks ago -
I've 'settled down' since then...
but wonder if I'll see the sky
or smell green grass again.

I miss the smell of hay,
and the scent of morning dew...
I miss my mama very much
and know she is lonely too.

The people here aren't really bad,
but they have no time for me...
My cage is small, so I sleep a lot
and dream of being free.

Other 'pets' all come and go,
but no one cares for me...
The people look, then walk away -
I'm "just an alley cat", you see.

One day while I was napping,
I felt a gentle touch,
And opened up my eyes to see
what was tickling me so much.

Just another 'looker', I thought,
as I stared up at her...
But with fingers poking through my cage,
she gently stroked my fur.

Her lips were smiling as she 'purred' to me,
and her touch was warm, it's true...
But I could see that her eyes were sad
and that she 'missed' someone too.

Then she opened up my cage
and took me from my place...
She cupped me safely in her hands
and 'kissed' all over my face!

She talked to me and 'purred' some more,
and.... "Holy Jehoshaphat!!"...
Is that 'hay' I smell - and 'dewdrops' as well?!
I think this is my new Mama Cat!!

She didn't put me down again,
so no one could snatch me away...
And for just a small wage, I was free of my cage -
now I have a big house where I play!!

I have a sister named "Widget",
and a brother "Bubba" too...
And a big, fat grandma named "Tiffy",
who snores when she sleeps with you.

No more 'the poor homeless kitten',
I'm now "just one of the guys!"
The longing is gone from my heart -
and the sadness left Mama Cat's eyes.

We romp and play all through the day,
and we snuggle and curl at night...
Mama still 'kisses' all over my face
and life is pur-r-r-r-fectly right!

No one calls me 'bad names' any more,
my 'family' sees to that...
I hear 'love & adore', and nice names galore,
but I'm not "just an ol' alley cat!"


Having lived with and dearly loved Sneakers for all of 17 years, he finally let me know one day that he was "growing tired" and didn't feel very well anymore.   It was a sad time.   He was my "best buddy" cat.   While I can't hold him in my arms anymore - I'll always hold him in my heart  *Meow ol' buddy.


Room 2
Page 1
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Page 3
Room 3
Room 1
Room 2
Room 3
Gallery 1
Gallery 2
Garden 1
Garden 2
N' Things
To Be
To Be


*Note... it is never my intention to infringe on anyone else's copyright.  If I know the author's name, I always include it.  If anyone else knows who the original authors are to these works - please let me know so I can include their name with their work.