Car release 2011 : Aston Martin DB9 2011 Sedan Car

Now i will share about a Car that release 2011, especially in this post is Aston Martin DB9 2011 Sedan. Aston Martin DB9 range received a complete package of styling, technical equipment and improvements. As the most successful Aston Martin of all time, (an honor shared with the V8 Vantage), the DB9 has established itself as the ultimate grand tourer, thanks to a combination of timeless understated elegance, luxury sports and original characters. Here some picture of Car that release 2011.


How do you think about the car? extremely amazing? or what?

12 days of Yoga

This past Saturday I was told I have 12 classes available in my membership before it expires on December 29^th. I’m excited to begin my own personal challenge that in the spirit of the holidays I will be calling:

‘The Twelve Days of Yoga’.

A gift to myself, as I will be practicing every other day for two weeks then three days in a row. I feel a little selfish taking so much of my time for ‘me’, but hey it’s Christmas. I’m going to splurge.

To add to the festivity I had to write a song to go with it:

The Twelve Days of Yoga 

On the first day of yoga, my teacher gave to me a standing bow with a locked knee…

On the twelfth day of yoga, my teacher gave to me:
Twelve standing postures

Eleven locusts lifting

Ten lords a pulling

Nine ladies stretching

Eight breaths a breathing

Seven umbrellas breaking

Six toes a standing

Five ben-gal tigers

Four one tailed cobras

Three gazing eyes

Two (.5) tortoise poses

And a standing bow with a locked knee.

Feel free to add your own ... I feel these could be better ...

The Sisterhood of the Bridesmaids' Dress

Recently my interest has been struck by an ongoing debate.

I couldn’t help but get excited. After all, who doesn’t love a little intelligent heat? In brief it is a dispute concerning the origins of yoga, the influences upon it, and the influences it has upon those who practice. Basically, there are some who argue that yoga is being distorted as it emerges exponentially in the western world and others who argue that there should be no ownership associated with the rights of Yoga.

The debate has risen in popularity within the past few weeks appearing as far as the New York Times to the HAF.

Both sides of the argument are perfectly understandable. Yoga was designed and intended to be practiced in accordance with its original motives and it should be protected. Conversely, as it is exposed to alternate cultures, faiths and religious backgrounds it is changing. Or is it?

Who decides what was and is now the right way to practice yoga?

I believe Bikram said it best: “What’s right is what works”.

This weekend my bridesmaids, my mom, and I all got together at a cute little dress shop with the intention of figuring out what costumes to wear to my upcoming wedding in May. Everyone had total freedom (at least I hope they all felt so) to pick out whatever they wanted. They could all wear the same dress or totally different dresses. I did mention a few times that I really like blue.

They tried on many dresses, like I had, hoping to find that ONE dress. The one you fall in love with when you put it on and never want to take it off.

There was this one dress.

When first discovered it was loved so much that it was immediately claimed. It stayed on the wearer through a few more costume changes by the other girls and then it was passed to another who upon zipping up the back, also fell in love. For this dress equally flattered and complimented the other with its style and excellence.  Clearly this dress knew how to charm the ladies, as it was already quite enamored and courted by two. Now only two other girls remained single, eagerly awaiting a similarly passionate romance. Until eventually girl number three tried on the dress followed by girl number four. It was girl number four who said the vows: “This is the dress that looks damn good on us all.” We were all reminded of that book/movie The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants.

What if there was a universal costume that was a stunning fit for everyone? One that made us all feel greatest in our potential. One that made us all healthy, strong, handsome, and beautiful. What if it was a costume we enjoyed wearing so much that we never wanted to take it off?

What if yoga was a universal guidance to help everyone improve their quality of life?  What if it didn’t matter how it was manipulated, changed, or integrated, it still managed to maintain its original purpose?

What if yoga fit everyone perfectly?



Its All About Chemistry

My experiment this weekend did not go as I expected; such is science. It was non-the-less an atom splitting discovery. Eureka! I think I’ve got it!

I started my trial with an hour of full productivity ( A Pickle in Time) and ended satisfied. Next I began a full hour of doing as little as I possibly could. I lay in savasana, eyes open, trying not to think of anything at all except to rate how ‘fast’ time was passing.

Great idea until 15 minutes in I fell asleep and woke up to the timer beeping, time perception was over, my analysis ruined. Statistically, there was not enough evidence to conclude that my first hour spent was any different than my second hour spent. Statistically, there was only enough evidence to conclude my whole idea was flat ridiculous.

To get over my poor study design, John and I decided to go get some dinner. It was a Friday night and very early. Early enough to go down to Phil’s BBQ which usually has a line wrapped around the building. But at 4pm we could walk in nonchalant, share a beer and even sit and chat with no pressure from the wait staff to turn over our table. ‘Twas lovely!

Afterwards, it was still so early we decided to stop by Home Depot and dream about our house and build ideas about our future projects. On the way home I remember looking at my phone and shrieking in amazement “Baby, its only 6 o’clock. We still have all night.”

Once we got home we tinkered and goofed off and then just got super silly, cracking up a few side splitting laugh-o-thons. Finally, we calmed ourselves and started a fantastically smart new television series ‘Boardwalk Empire’. It was on the couch when I finally sat down where I had my epiphany.

I was falling in love with the evening. We had done so many things and were having so much fun, and time was at a stand still for no reason at all. Time was not flying by, it was right there in the moment.

This was a typical evening for us and there was no other place in the world I would have rather been. There was nothing else in the universe or any other dimension I would have rather been doing. It was there that I realized I cannot control time, nor even try to control how I perceive it.

It is like falling in love. That desperate emotion to guard it, keep it and maintain it will only suffocate it and smother out its fire. And no matter how difficult it was, I remember, at that time in the beginning when things were in romantic chaos, I knew that I had to let go. I had to let fate, and the universe do what it wanted to do because things like these cannot be controlled. It was at that moment I jumped in.

And so I jumped into the time in my life where I could just let go and enjoy being in love with the moment.

A pickle in time

I love pickles. The current Vlasic I’ve been sinking my teeth into is concerning time:

A historically four dimensional element that has be traveling at an ever increasing rate for as long as I can remember. Most of the theories explaining this well known phenomenon are based on perception and the ratio of a time span relative to the total length of time an observer has witnessed. Super fascinating, but my pickle is this:

I enjoy life so much that I want to do as many things as I possibly can to experience it fully before my time runs out.

And…

The more things I pile on my plate; the busier I am; the more fun I have; the faster time flies by; the quicker my time runs out…or so it seems. It’s all relative right, so what does it even matter?

It matters to me because everything is made of matter and I think it has everything to do with balance: in life, in body, in time.

This is a fine line that I haven’t quite figured out how to rest upon.

                          The brilliance of LOST has.

When I watch TV with my eyes, it is a perfect opportunity to fold clothes with my hands and scratch my dog’s belly with my feet. When I drive to work, it is a perfect time to listen to my French and decide what to make for dinner. Before I know it I forget what episode of ‘Cheers’ I'm on and drive right past my exit.

So I have designed an experiment for the weekend:

Objective: To document my personal perception of time to use as a control for further time manipulation studies.

Methods and Materials: Stop watch. Some sort of statistical analysis software.

Step 1: I will do as little as I can in 1 hours time. Record what I did, how well it was done, and how fast each bracket of time ‘felt’ to be passing according to my personally biased scale.

Step 2: I will do as many ‘unidentified flying projects’ as I can in 1 hours time. Record the same as above.

Step 3: Continue with a moderate amount of productivity.

Step 4: Possibly repeat in randomized order. Analyze results and post findings.

What I hope to discover is my own personal scale of time balance.

Talk about badass biological transformation.

Typical life cycle of a jellyfish:

I’ve noticed that something has been happening for a little while. I am changing. I haven’t changed yet, but I can feel the process. It has everything to do with how poorly I’ve treated my body for the past 29 years of my life and now as I approach 30 and have been introduced to Bikram Yoga, I am a flower petal blooming. I am a polyp ephyra budding.

My yoga instructor calls me Gina. This is not my name, my name is Martina. It’s been about four classes since the name Martina turned into Gina. It took me a while to figure out she was talking to me, but I respond to it because I respond to everyone’s corrections and now it has just stuck. My instructor is so helpful. She has given me so many mind blowing adjustments, it’s like she’s created a whole other person, we’ll call her Gina. So, the other night she conducted such an awesome class for me that I’m going to say it was my best ever. Afterwards I wanted to tell her how fantastic it was and remind her my name, but by the time I got dressed she was nowhere to be found, so I am still Gina.

I realize that I enjoy being Gina. She gets a lot of attention. She is young and fun and spontaneous and she eats and drinks whatever she wants. She lives in the moment, rarely giving thought to the future. She enjoys life to the fullest but at times looses balance.

In a few months though, she is getting married. It is perfect timing as far as her age is concerned, but it is not a product of following the next step in her relationship nor the next step in her life cycle. It is a product of wanting to take that step with the particular person who is standing beside her. And for the first time in her life Gina has found herself thinking about the future and loving it: she can imagine her priorities, goals, and passions. Her future fellow aisle walker (fiancée) has already found a new passion too and although they are totally different interests they still talk about them together as if they are the same. In so many ways they are: the passions are both wickedly difficult and challenging, physically and mentally. Both passions are changing their bodies drastically and encouraging them to eat and drink the right things and not poison their bodies with the toxins both passions are so good at ridding. It makes so much sense that on two totally different paths, this couple can still travel together.

So it may be a while before I happen to have another class with the instructor who calls me Gina. Maybe the universe will decide when; maybe it will be when I have fully transformed into the image of my greatest potential.  Regardless, I am looking forward to that day when the polyp becomes a jellyfish and Gina becomes Martina.

And wow-dang, I might even have a new last name!

How does she ALWAYS know?!

I’m currently planning a wedding. I never thought I would and to be honest the idea has always felt very overwhelming, much like the idea of a corset: me gripping white knuckled to the post of an unmade bed, clothes scattered everywhere. My chamber maid pulling tightly on the corset ribbons, one foot on my lower back for leverage against the constant re-gripping and tightening, yank, yank, re-gripping and tightening. My lungs unite with my ribs; oxygen a treat of the past.

I am presently surprised it is nothing like this. I attribute the comfort to the grace that I am marrying the love of my life. He fills my lungs, he cuts the ribbons.

It has become a wonderful opportunity to spend time with my mother. We try on many dresses and we love them all. The first one is my favorite, then the next one is, and then ok seriously the next one is for real. By the time we get to the end we are overwhelmed and can’t narrow them down. All the pretty dresses. Some are so silly, thank heavens, those are easy to put back.

And we sit in the car, my mother and I, and we talk and talk and talk. And she listens. To all the things.

Last night she took me to Chili’s and while we ate our chicken fajitas she told me a story about my Grandma Jerry. It was a story about a struggle my grandmother experienced that is very similar to a struggle I am blessed to experience. And it was exactly what I needed to hear. I have heard so many things: you should do this and you should do that and you should eat this and you should drink that and I do all the suggestions and drink all the potions and it just doesn’t change a thing. But the story she told me about my grandma changed everything. It made me feel honored. To be anything like her for five minutes; I would take it for a lifetime.

It reminded me of a recent yoga instructor who told us during class something to the effect of, ‘you should learn to enjoy the posture and not anticipate when you will be finished with it, but be disappointed when I tell you to come out of it’. Knowing now the story, I want to be in the struggle. I want to be like my grandma. I no longer want to anticipate when my struggle will be finished and I will be disappointed (but also relieved because my muscles are on fire) when I have to come out of it.

The rest of the night we talked about everything else.

This wasn’t the first time.

She always knows exactly what to say.

                         Hannah said…

                                 Was this REALLY necessary?

Come by tomorrow for another chance to enter and win!

        

Are you Ameri-can or Ameri-can’t?

Today is Election Day. I have never been more excited to vote. There have been things I’ve been more excited to vote about but this day I felt honored to flip through the catalogue of crap and gemstones, lucky to have the freedom to make my choices: which piles are crap, and which piles are gemstones. There are always both.

I left work with all of my proposition decided upon, having spent my lunch on the beach picking my kings and queens of government. I love my job. Aside from eating my soup in the sand and my interesting responsibilities I am encouraged, even financially, to learn. It is the reason I work there. When I graduated I had no idea what jobs even existed much less that I would never have the opportunity to get bored because I am constantly learning new things, experience is the fastest way to education. (Yes, I am in very good mood. It was mid-80s on the coast today; I am a very happy girl).

Anyhow, as I left my job that I thoroughly appreciate I came across a fine sequence of music on the radio: Disturbed – ‘Stupify’ followed by Metallica – ‘Master of Puppets’ and what a line up for an election day. I’m not saying the general American population is “stupified” nor do politicians “chop [their] breakfast on a mirror”, I’m not even going to go into “pulling the strings”. What I’m getting at with the fine line up is that Americans make beautiful music. I take it back, Americans make the best music. We all have our favorites.

So as I walked my dog Cash (who is named after America’s finest icon: the man in black not the man in green) barefoot down the street to my residence garage poll in my small town feeling community I felt very proud to be American. As hard as it is to write an unbiased request to go out and practice your freedom to vote (you still have time) it’s even harder to think of a reason why not to. We all have things we love about America. It’s not only about our opinions on the wars, markets, laws… It’s about the things we enjoy, the jobs that are worth more than the money it takes to pay the bills and the songs that are worth more than any years of oppression that were bulldozed through to obtain the freedom to write them.

OK…so go vote!

Escaping the Quicksand

Last week, out of the complete blue I was STRUGGLING in my yoga practice. The entire time I kept thinking ‘How do I escape this quicksand before the tide comes in’?

Nothing bad happened to me and there is no explanation for it other than just being in a funk. It all started when I went to class on Monday night. I had one irritated thought about how it felt SO HOT and each posture was being held FOREVER. This led me to the next negative thought about how I’m not making progress in my postures and can’t even fully flex my foot in standing head to knee, which led me to the next self-destructive thought about how everyone in the universe has babies now but me and I’m about to turn 30. Then came the tears that luckily disguise as sweat and I missed the next posture (I don’t like missing postures and had only once before: enter a flood of self inflecting wounds of negative thinking).

It amazed me how this one irritation could ignite a ripple effect and suck out my soul. How this one irritation could dig and fester and find my sacred insecurities and expose them to me when I was shattered the most.

This is a great time to introduce my interpretation of the most well know battle in the universe: the battle between good (positive) and evil (negative). In my own words: the battle between the happy makers and the soul suckers, respectively. You know them well. The happy makers are the kind of people who love each other and care for each other and treat each other kindly. The soul suckers are the kind of people who hate everyone and only think of themselves and do everything in their power to spread their gloom and doom all over the place.

Now that you are reintroduced to their personalities, this is how the soul suckers attack: they find the fear, self doubt, and humiliation that negatively infect the happy makers and they use it to weaken their spirit in hopes of recruiting and converting more happy makers into soul suckers. And it works; they have a very powerful religion. But, the happy makers have an even more effective strategy: they poison their arrows with love and display what it feels like to be happy and enjoy life (like Korben Dallas and Leeloo).

This is a powerful weapon, Love. The tricky part is you have to believe in it to experience it. A lot of soul suckers don’t believe in love, it’s not part of their faith. Ok, Neo and Agent Smith lovers (and chemists) you can argue that for every soul sucker (negative charge) there is a happy maker (positive charge) so they strive to balance each other out and everything is driven towards a neutral equilibrium. I support that, but without judgment all I want to do in my life is maintain all that I can to ensure that I walk on the path of the happy maker.

Back to my yoga story:

At this point of my negativity (get it chemists), I realized that I had pushed myself into a state of pure survival and things started to change. I was panicking mentally more than anything else and I decided to let go of the negativity and let my body do what it needed to do to survive, even if it meant leaving the room (I haven’t yet done that either). This is how it went for the rest of the class. I did not leave the room but I skipped a few more postures. Overall I ended the class very happy that I had overcome a meltdown. I feel like I better understand how my body, maybe the human body, or more generally any biological body handles stress. Once infected and overtaken by the negative effects of stress, perhaps the body enters a survival mode: it just does what it needs to do to survive… to stay in the room…to escape from the quicksand. I feel now more than ever that I can fully trust my body, to do what it needs to do. No matter how long it takes, it will find a way. The babies will come.

The next class on Wednesday afternoon was not much better for me though. I had no negative thoughts or irritations but I continued to struggle physically. I missed at least 3 sets of postures, but I didn’t care. Body: “Just do what you need to do and what you can do, do it 100%”. My legs were still stuck in the mud; my arms constricted around me as I was being swallowed into the earth. My body was not doing anything at all. How do I escape from this quicksand?

It wasn’t until Friday’s class that I finally wiggled my way free. I was hoping for some epiphany or great lesson to forever remember so I could get myself out faster next time, but it wasn’t like that. I had no control of it. I just had to wait until it passed.  Finally, I felt strong and free of mud and I got a little scared. No survival book will ever say: when suck in quicksand just wait it out, it’s something you can’t control. But maybe in my survival book I can make a note: avoid quicksand all together by avoiding the pathways of the soul suckers = negative thinking.

Make Sure You Have ALL The correct Facts...

All to often we rely on what others are saying, instead of going right to the source for our information...miss quotes have been flying all over the media since last weekends LDS General Conference...I challenge all my readers to actually read President Boyd K Packers talk and not to rely on hear-say!

ksl.com - Deseret News editorial addresses recent protests of Boyd Packer's talk

Video link
Printed Copy
Clarifications Statement

Lobster Season: Hands Behind Your Back

How I so desperately want to be writing about marinating my ten pound lobsters in butter this weekend, but I can’t because they were all too small to keep. But we got to look at them and imagine their satiable flavor and above all, we learned a LOT.

I’m going to turn 30 this February and about a year ago I wrote a list of 30 things to do before I turn 30. One of the things on that list is to go hoop netting for lobster.

Well, lobster season opened to recreational fishing this past weekend and Saturday night we were ready to go:  tanks filled, hoops rigged, suit holes mended, licenses purchased, gear packed, and most excitingly, recipes selected for our well anticipated feast... the butter already melted.

We decided to dive first because we had heard this method is by far the best for catching lobster and all lists aside this was our priority goal.  We found a beautiful spot about 3 miles north of Mission Bay jetty, perfectly decorated with all the surrounding lights from the city: the hotels, the roller coaster, the lighthouse. We dropped down and to make the longest dive of most horrible conditions ever recorded a shorter story, we failed. More appropriately, I failed. John caught two lobsters; thank goodness because that was the majority of all the lobsters I got to see that night. 

However, failing to see anything was not my major error. I was well aware I had under weighted myself and towards the end of our dive I had an unplanned ascent. It was so stupid on my part and I haven’t gotten over the shame. This is how people die and all because I didn’t want to get back on the boat and get more weight. Lesson learned and I know it will never happen again. It’s kind of like those near miss accidents on the road that make you a better driver because you got so close to really bad things happening. You feel lucky to be alive; it is a warning forever imprinted into your brain.

Aside from that, it was a unanimous decision to ditch the diving idea. The visibility was in inches, the surge was in horsepower, and the terrain was in-habitable. But, we finally got to hoop net, and that was a blast! Super easy, super mellow, and once the nets were placed we could just chill and have a beer and watch the water. It is so exciting when you pull up that net and you can hear the little bug flapping around, advertising for all your fishing friends to hear: ‘You caught me! You caught me!’ Of course after measuring he was about 1/18^th of an inch under legal limits. But I still stared at him ravenously, mentally complimenting him: ‘You would taste so good my little friend and I have suffered so long and worked so hard to catch you’. Oh, how I looked at him, so tempted to take him home to my dinner table.

Tempted like I was tempted to touch those forbidden glass figurines in the gift shops when I was little.  My mother loves to shop and anytime we ever went into one of those curio shops, or gift shops that had anything breakable, she would say “Hands behind your backs”, meaning my brother and I had to hold our hands behind our backs preventing us from touching anything; preventing us from breaking anything. This was like that moment. What would have happened if I had picked up the beautiful porcelain ballerina from the curio shop? She would have, no doubt, slipped from my hands and shattered all over the floor. What would have happened if I took that too small of a lobster that I caught in my net? His species sustainability would have slipped and shattered all over the ocean floor.

OK, I’m being dramatic but there’s an idea behind it.  Theories are going around that this summer’s cold weather has stunted the growth of the lobster; stunted the growth of many things. And yes we work so hard and put in so much effort, but do we really need those prizes we strive so hard to get? Isn’t it really the experiences that are so much more meaningful? The learning and the adventure and the memories we create in doing them.  I know that lobster would taste so good, but the image of that night tastes so much better. Besides if you get caught taking that too small lobster, Fish & Game will put your hands behind your back for a reason, then throw you in prison (AKA give you a fat fine).

Come Listen to a Prophets Voice!

Image by paparutzi via Flickr

• "There's more to life than picking up speed, focus on the things that really matter - Faith, Family, Associates and Self...
• We would do well to slow down a little...
• Reduce the rush, get to know yourself better, learn to see yourself as Heavenly Father sees you, a literal son/daughter of God,...
• Live a life that leads to meaning, gladness and peace."

These are just a few of the uplifting words I have been
listening to today!

Many of you wonderful readers know that I'm a Mormon, a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints...and if you've been visiting my blog for very long you also know that I'm not some strange creature...well at least no stranger than the next mom...Okay, I admit any woman with 11 kids has got to be a bit strange...LOL!

Today and tomorrow we are having what is known as The Worldwide General Conference of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I always come away Full... strengthened and able to be better!

It 's a time to receive council and encouragement from a living Prophet, Thomas S Monson, the 12 Apostles, and other General Authorities of the Church.

If you are looking for a more meaningful life, or some direction and encouragement, or just plain curious about what the Mormon's are all about, I invite you to come and listen.

Conference times are (MDT - Mountain Daylight Time)
Saturday & Sunday, October 2-3, 2010

• 10:00am - 12:00 noon
• 2:00pm-4:00pm

You can watch them live HERE during the above Mountain Daylight Times listed, or go HERE or HERE or HERE to learn more.

It is not my intent to offend any of my readers...you are my friends and I want to share the most important thing in the world...
Thanks, Becky Jane

Sounds so good

Moving right along with the Bikram TT event: the mood was ridiculous excitement.

When I finally left work I unexpectedly hit hard core traffic and felt the initial fluster, followed by my self-given mantra: ‘Clearly this is an exercise, clearly I am not self-actualized.’

It’s all part of the experience, nothing will phase me, bring it on Bikram!

With nothing else to do, I rolled down the windows and began searching for a song on the radio. A great song. Something to match my mood, pump me up, or just give me some good time happy. Out of the 12 preset selections on my radio every single one of them sounded good. Led Zeppelin, Miranda Lambert, I even got a Bob Dylan. No songs that I would put on my top 10 list, but man they all sounded so good.

When I arrived (exactly at 4:30 pm by the way, no stress) I met my wonderful friend who happens to be the inspiration behind my yoga passion. It was her idea, from the beginning, and I am forever indebted. The best part was that I could clearly tell that she was just as excited as I was.

As soon as we started our Pranayama breathing I realized that this was my first class outside of my studio and the details were very different. Rather the sounds were very different. The tent had an imperious heater hum that pretty much drowned out all other sounds. I missed the ‘music’ of my studio that I know I look forward to. The sound of glass crashing as it falls through the recycling shoot just across the street. The raining pitter patter of sweat as it romantically drips off everyone’s elbows as we stand in tree pose. The bass I can barely hear coming through the floor from the hip-hop studio below when I press my ear to the ground; my toes touch and feet fall open. Sound becomes such a clandestinely invasive part of meditation because you are brought to the primitive place where nothing else exists outside of the senses.

I began to notice the ‘music’ of Bikram’s tent. “What the f*#% are you doing??? You are not doing anything!!!” That actually really pumps me up, kinda like Disturbed. Those are the heavy metal parts; you’ve got to be in the mood for heavy metal and when I'm in the mood, I love it! And then during tree stand in place of my raindrops he sang, chanted, loud. I have no idea what but it calmed my soul, my favorite chorus ever. There were little songs too, where the diction alone made music: “Boss”, “Sweetheart”, “Miss Blue Bikini”. Just the way he said it; the way it sounded made me want to come back for more just so I could listen to his soundtrack.

Raise my glass to yoga!

One of the spokes of my wagon wheel that I will spend a lot of time thickening is yoga, specifically Bikram. I’ve been practicing for just about 9 months now. By no means do I consider myself an expert, but I do believe in it. There are so many things to say; so many benefits. But that’s the topic of many future blogs that future Martina is going to write. Present moment Martina is going to write about this very second:

San Diego is currently hosting Bikram Yoga Teacher Training. Many fine & fantastically flexible attendants join from all over the world to be trained in the specific teachings of Bikram so that they can in turn fulfill their yoga karma and spread the magic. This has given us San Diego residents an opportunity of a lifetime: to take a class instructed by Bikram as part of the teacher training agenda. Sure we can easily drive up to LA and take a class in his studio but this is HUGE. Hundreds of people all eager to learn, all packed together in a tent during this fine city’s first intense 2010 heat wave. Imagine the talent! Imagine the energy!

So here I sit, 2 hours before I start to make my way over there and I feel like I just stepped up onto the podium of the woman’s event final: 100 yard free-style, no fly-style.  But this is no sprint. This is…a compilation of everything. My entire day has been psychoanalyzed: 1 glass of water every other hour, make pee almost exactly 20 minutes thereafter, handful of almonds for breakfast, no coffee today, caprease sandwich for lunch and now I’m about to panic because I ate all the fries.

It’s making me wonder: is all this excitement a result of my ‘fight-or-flight’ surge of adrenaline & norepinephrine because I’m about to really get my ass kicked or is it just a natural response to the surge of serotonin & endorphin I’m experiencing because I’m doing something I love. Maybe it’s a mass pack of every hormone my body knows how to make; all I really want to say is what a colorful cocktail!

Getting Naked and the Birth of the Wagon Wheel

Up until now I have resisted blogging. What the hell would I blog about anyway? Nobody would read it and yikes, talk about online pornography. I don’t want anyone to see me that naked. Just naked, I’ll live. Verbally naked, hell no.

This analogy got me wondering: Was I so afraid/ self-conscious/ shy the first time I ever let someone see me naked?

I think I was 4. My friend had a killer mud puddle in his backyard after it rained and to get in it real good we had to be naked, so we got naked and no, I was not afraid. 25 years later, with no real reason (other than to embrace the freedom of uncensored publishing) I find myself with that same innocently wicked desire to get naked and jump into the mud puddle of cyberspace.

What the hell would I get naked about anyway?

It seems like most bloggers have a theme. A beautiful thing, something to keep them on track. But let’s be realistic. I’ve never been able to narrow anything down to just one passion, one interest, or even one focus of academics. For crying out loud I went to France to study science, now concentrate! Faites-moi confiance!

Life is a wagon wheel. A wheel is a circle and a circle is infinite. Therefore, there are theoretically an infinite number of “spokes” with varying girth to support the outer frame of the wheel from collapsing in on itself while carrying the weight of the wagon. Sure, you only need a few spokes to have a wheel strong enough to hold the weight, but the more spokes you have and the thicker they are, the stronger the wheel and the more weight you can carry with your wagon. Why would you want to carry more weight with your wagon?...Why would you want to live your life?...Follow me?

How do you get thicker spokes?

Knowledge, learning, experiencing anything imaginable as much as you can in a lifetime. Scuba diving is a spoke. The more dives you do and the more classes you take the thicker your scuba spoke gets. Same goes for any passion, hobby, subject,… anyone in all the infinite realities could ever think of. There is the meaning of life! Go make wagon wheels!

And what could better keep me on track than a wheel? So there is my theme. Anything and everything infinitely imaginable (including black holes). 

Episode #8 - Rosebuds Heritage Rose Garden

In Rosebuds Heritage Rose garden there is a 

rose bush for each of our children.  

Each rose bush represents each child in a unique way.

I missed most of the roses while they were blooming...but you can get the general idea!

She has simplicity roses, English roses, 

tea roses, and climbing roses!

It's quit a sentimental garden...when I see it, I think of my 11 children and how unique and beautiful each one is....hence the subtitle for my blog...Raising kids is a lot like weeding the rose bed...well worth it, but...OUCH!

 

Episode #7 - Dot's Cottage Garden

When we were creating our Sweet Memories Garden, 

Dot was going through a Victorian phase. 

 She was enchanted with cottage gardens...thus the 

theme for her garden spot.

The vine covered fence separates Dot's garden 

from the rest of Sweet Memories, making it a secluded spot!

Included in her garden are our friends 

from The Hundred Acre Wood...

Pooh Bear

Eeyore...

And the ever timid and sweet Piglet!

This is an enchanting garden spot perfect for 

tea parties and story books!

I hope you enjoyed your visit to Dot's Cottage Garden. 

We'll see you next Friday for another view from 

our Sweet Memories...A Children's Garden

If you're new to my blog you might want to check out the tabs up top to see more of my children's garden spots and to meet my kids!

Sweet Memories Garden - Episode #6 - Woody's Arch - A Place for Meditation

Of all the special children's gardens in Sweet Memories, (see tab at the top of my blog for more info.), Woody's Arch is one of the few that I can access with my wheelchair.  When I enter, I feel like I'm entering a secret, special place all of my own!

It has become a place to escape, and meditate on the simpler creations that surround me.  

One day I was sitting here just being quiet and listening.  All of the sudden a movement in the wood chips next to the sidewalk where I was sitting caught my eye.  Something was under there wiggling and squiggling.  I couldn't see what it was so I waited and watched.  Before long a pill bug emerged and went on his merry way.  I soon began seeing all kinds of movement going on under the wood chips...movement that had been there all along but I had never noticed!

Last autumn brought the most beautiful colors to Woody's Arch...Virginia Creeper covers the arch that my father and sons built for me.  This vine is considered by some to be too invasive, but it brings such beauty to our Sweet Memories Garden and becomes the focal point!

As I sat here in the autumn, the sound of trickling water from Chip's Pond and the falling of leaves brought a calming peace and assurance that God is mindful of even me.  He has given me this lovely earth to enjoy and I am surrounded by his creations!  "...all things denote there is a God; yea even the earth, and all things that are upon the face of it... (Alma 30:44, Book of Mormon, Another Testament of Jesus Christ).

In the foreground of the above photo, you can see Chip's Pond.  This is a place of constant motion, not only from the fountain, but birds, our cat's, and the dreaded hornets come here to drink.  Chip's Pond is visible from Woody's Arch an I have enjoyed the view...even the hornets, 

which we are infested with, don't seem so threatening!

Below is a view from behind the fence, looking through the arch into Sweet Memories Garden.  

I hope you have enjoyed your visit!  Stop by any time and rest yourself!

The following link will take you to the rest of Our Sweet Memories Garden spots...each one of our children have their own spot that they have designed and maintained!
http://myelevenreasons.blogspot.com/p/sweet-memories-childrens-garden.html

Cute as a Bug in a Rug!

This is my granddaughter Boo...we waited a long time for her!  My daughter, Rosebud, and her husband are unable to have children and finally after a LONG wait they adopted this little angel!

I just came across this amazing story on Big Fat Mama's Blog. 

I hope you take a minute and follow the link to an amazing story!

http://www.cookingupfaith.com/2010/08/stories-of-faith-nick-vujicic-life.html?

Sweet Memories Garden - Episode #5 - Busters Corner

Buster designed his flower bed when he was about 4 years old.  The Old Fashioned Purple Lilac provides the shade.  Notice there are no glowers to care for.  If you look closely to the far right, you can see a metal stake with a metal flower...this was the only flower he wanted!

  

He has several statues... children on a slide, a little boy fishing, and a little boy sitting next to a bird bath.

His little bench and tic-tac-tac toe game are the focal point.

Busters corner is located between Tatty's Bunny Hollow and Bogies Brigadoon. 

 Making all 3 gardens a delightful place for children to play and use their imaginations!

You can see the other children's gardens in the 

Sweet Memories, A Children's Garden tab at the top of my blog!

Next weeks garden post will be on Thursday instead of Friday...come by 

and see my favorite place to meditate and relax...Woodies Arch!

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JAIRO'S CLASS

EASY MONEY

junk noun: ( RUBBISH ) /dʒʌŋk/ n [U] things that are considered to be of no use or value, or of low quality We ought to clear out this cupboard - it's full of junk.
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offshore: adjective /ˌɒfˈʃɔːr//ˌɑːfˈʃɔːr/ adj (of companies and banks) based in a different country with different tax rules that cost them less money

pop in: informal to go into a place, especially a friend's house, just for a short time If you're passing by you should pop in for a chat some time. [usually + adv/prep]

receipt: noun 1 PAPER [C] a piece of paper that proves that you have received goods or money Could I have a receipt? Remember to keep receipts for any work done.

teller: noun [C] US someone who works in a bank and gives out or takes in money

withdrawal: noun ( TAKING OUT ) /wɪðˈdrɔː.əl//-ˈdrɑː-/ n [C or U] when you take money out of a bank account The bank became suspicious after several large withdrawals were made from his account in a single week.

Sweet Memories Garden - Episode #4 - Tatty's Bunny Hollow

Welcome to Tatty's Bunny Hollow Garden,...

It was named Bunny Hollow after one of the stories I'd written about my three youngest and their adventures in Sweet Memories.  You will meet several of my storybook characters in her little garden!

This is the stump where Ol' Grandpappy lives with all the other rabbits in Bunny Hollow

Mr. Gus is a grumpy but funny mole that tries to avoid my little girls,

 but seems to always peek out when they're looking.

On one of their journey's to Bunny Hollow, my girls meet Mrs. Myrtle Turtle.  She is on her way to the Bunny Hollow birthday party but is so slow she will be late, 

so the girls put her in their basket and give her a ride to the party.

In this photo you can see Mrs. Myrtle Turtle resting from her bumpy journey in the basket.  Also there are 2 chipmunks that just happened by, and if you look up  in the stump you can see Figaro and one of his sisters.  They are naughty little sparrows that belong to Toot and Flute.

Some of my favorite stories to read to my children are by Beatrix Potter. 

 If you look closely, you can see the hedgehog, Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle, 

a delightful character from one of her stories!

This is a birdhouse that my brother made for me several years ago.  It sits a-top the stump in Bunny Hollow.

Thanks for stopping by Bunny Hollow and meeting all our little friends.  Tatty loves her garden.  

She planted sweet violets in it because she knew they were one of my favorite flowers!

Next week we will visit Busters Garden...this is a totally little boy garden.  Hope to see you there!

If you are interested in reading other posts about our Sweet Memories Garden, scroll up until you get to 'Sweet Memories, A Children's Garden'. on the LEFT side bar!