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OceanFlower
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« Reply #25 on: August 19, 2010, 04:08:28 AM »

Stan Getz & Joao Gilberto - The Girl From Ipanema Small | Large


A mid-summer piece of mellow from the past... man when Getz's sax comes in i still get the chills! Play it loud please!
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« Reply #26 on: August 19, 2010, 04:44:47 AM »

This is simply dreamy....

Bohannon - Think Of Me Small | Large


And one more by the same artist...

THOUGHTS AND WISHES Hamilton Bohannon Small | Large
« Last Edit: August 19, 2010, 04:54:34 AM by SaveJFC Admin » Logged

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OceanFlower
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« Reply #27 on: August 20, 2010, 03:58:33 AM »

Astrud Gilberto and Stan Getz: THE GIRL FROM IPANEMA - 1964 Small | Large


a good thing is always worth repeating... wow that was a nice number save... never heard that one before!

now please look at this live performance.... a real woman, n'cest pas? no body piercings or tattoos or nearly naked costume... all woman brimming with talent and artistry! yeah like that! and stan wow!

they just don't make them like that anymore!
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OceanFlower
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« Reply #28 on: August 20, 2010, 10:23:13 AM »

What, no more arguments, no passionate diatribes? A soothing music from now on? Come on, Flower, you know better!  Tongue
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OceanFlower
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« Reply #29 on: August 21, 2010, 08:59:38 AM »

is it the dog days of august yet?  i don't know just feeling the melllow of midsummer... i can't believe its almost over... sigh! altho where i live it stays pretty mild til end of october..... i had a dream last night that I was back "home" and i had planned to go for an afternoon swim at the beach after work... then i woke up and realized i was stuck in the flatlands.... living a nightmare!!
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OceanFlower
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« Reply #30 on: August 21, 2010, 09:16:54 AM »

How far is from you to the ocean? I can get there in an hour, not shabby, eh? Don't mean to gloat, believe me, but I'd die in Kansas! And not only for the flatlands....
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OceanFlower
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« Reply #31 on: August 21, 2010, 09:57:31 AM »

2 1/2 horrible hours of driving
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OceanFlower
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« Reply #32 on: August 26, 2010, 02:59:01 PM »

http://downtownexpress.com/de_383/seapaddling.html
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OceanFlower
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« Reply #33 on: August 27, 2010, 03:57:13 AM »

thanks skorda... very cool! glad to see you're back and your front too!   Kiss
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OceanFlower
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« Reply #34 on: September 04, 2010, 11:06:11 PM »

For fun!
Moskau with english lyrics! Small | Large
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skordamou
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« Reply #35 on: September 04, 2010, 11:24:49 PM »

Come and dance and love the fish, Mr. Disco summoned it!
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Sven2
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« Reply #36 on: September 09, 2010, 11:03:08 AM »

Need the best earplugs, to dance to that.

I can't watch anything on Vevo, a paid political ad with one of our local women-Repubs appears enticing me to help small business instead of big banks. Is she a small business too, I wonder? Guess not, a part of the juggernaut. In the morning pre-recorded messages from candidates rob of the precious sleep, papers switched from caricatures about BP to the imminent failure of Dems. Oh, let's skip the season..... 
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« Reply #37 on: September 10, 2010, 03:50:58 AM »

William Shatner - Mr Tambourine Man Small | Large


I don't know what to say.....  Huh?
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OceanFlower
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« Reply #38 on: September 10, 2010, 03:57:09 AM »

Szandora LaVey Doin' A Dance! Small | Large



Quiet Village like you've never seen or heard it before I guarantee you! The band is the Tiki Yaki Orchestra... the dancer is the lovely and talented Szandora LaVey notorious infamous Satanist... a satanic surfer girl? Not sure... anyway she usually does her act with a hula hoop... no hoop this time.... so what can I say? Real women have curves and know how to use them! Now if I could just find this Quiet Village with the hula girls!!
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« Reply #39 on: September 30, 2010, 03:58:32 AM »

"Live fast, die young, leave a good-looking corpse." - James Dean




The Chicken Game Small | Large



The first man who jumps is a chicken!


http://www.tcm.com/mediaroom/index/?cid=21885


I can't believe they cut the actual fight.... but still a great scene!   Cool Cool Cool
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OceanFlower
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« Reply #40 on: October 28, 2010, 03:57:36 AM »

 Angry

i cannot believe the local affliate bumped Modern Family last night to do coverage on the tornado that was ripping thru the state... wtf is the big deal? all they had to say was: OK all you honkies get down in the root cellar and start praying to your baptist god and go back to the regular programmed telecast n'cest pas??   Angry
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OceanFlower
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« Reply #41 on: October 28, 2010, 10:58:08 AM »

So, did you go and did you pray? Cheesy
No neighbors' roofs were blown off, I hope?

We are enjoying (I myself tremendously!) a sudden, unfortunately very short,  wave of hot weather, 72 degrees, it's at the end of October!
I have a tank top on, dreaming of moving some place without snow and ice, with no winter. Cincinnati, here I come,  Cheesy Cheesy Cheesy Cheesy Cheesy



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Cissy
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« Reply #42 on: November 14, 2010, 05:51:28 AM »

I wish you could just move out here Svennie, you would be happy! We have libraries, I live 20 minutes from the ocean now, still working on that place up north with the redwoods, every day. That's less than 5 minutes to the ocean, and the storms that come in, come in wonderfully in their rush from the sea to smash into the mountain range. Awesome.
That place up home, an old friend, has re appeared in my life, old friend as in we've known each other over 50 years! EEK! Glad she'll never see this post! I told you all about her, how she was the only one in the group of her friends who told everyone to stop talking and just WATCH John when her friends didn't see 'it'. She was so happy to learn of us. She must have come back to me through Cincinnati, because, she's the how I make that place in the redwoods my home. Send to her your whitest light, she's missing a friend who's left for Cincinatti. 
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« Reply #43 on: November 14, 2010, 01:01:55 PM »

Aww, come on Cissy find the poem? Cheesy Hello svennie, I have had pneaumonia, not fun.  Embarrassed So haven't been doing much.
We did take our son to Branson Mo, for his BD, had a great time.... Next we head to Pensacola Beach Fl, to spend Thanksgiving with my Mom's nephew!
i can't wait. Don't care if 50 degrees or 90, just can't wait to show my son the ocean.
Hope all of you peeps are doing great! Cheesy
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Sven2
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« Reply #44 on: November 17, 2010, 12:38:58 AM »

Cissy, 20 min from the ocean is marvelously close, and 5 min is a plain miracle; keep working on that place, it should be yours! Good luck.  Write more, here's a quote from your post, it's very well written: "The storms that come in, come in wonderfully in their rush from the sea to smash into the mountain range." We used to write and post on the BB, remember?

Laurel,
I hope you recovered completely. Take good care of yourself, your men, and your Mom depend on you. Any place that has "beach" in its name must be great, especially down South.  If that's the first time your son would see the ocean, he is in for a wonderful surprise, should never forget that Thanksgiving. Post something about Florida, you got sharp eye, and HAVE FUN, of course!
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« Reply #45 on: November 17, 2010, 02:29:23 PM »

yes, this will be his first look at the ocean, his eyes will get BIG and HUGE.  I will say to him, Son, here's a bucket and shovel Work Here o'kai... and I will take a stick and draw lines and circles in the sand and John my husband will appear, and I will say to him  I'm not giving up my herb FAT BOY...muhahahahahahahhah

Oh me!
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« Reply #46 on: November 19, 2010, 01:44:55 PM »

Would you say all that, Laurel, word for word? Please, do!  Smiley
Water should be still warm enough for your son to swim. Weather forecast promises 77 and above from Monday through Wednesday there. He's going to love it.
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« Reply #47 on: November 19, 2010, 06:22:57 PM »

 :)Well Sven, nah not word for word,,,haha I hope it is nice, but rain or shine I plan to enjoy my Thanksgiving vacation. Grin
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« Reply #48 on: November 30, 2010, 05:59:52 PM »

  P  L  A  Y  !

http://video.pbs.org/video/1466928934/
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« Reply #49 on: December 23, 2010, 09:30:46 PM »

MERRY CHRISTMAS


A Christmas Story 1881

Pa never had much compassion for the lazy or those who squandered their means and then never had enough for the necessities. But for those who were genuinely in need, his heart was as big as all outdoors. It was from him that I learned the greatest joy in life comes from giving, not from receiving.

It was Christmas Eve 1881. I was fifteen years old and feeling like the world had caved in on me because there just hadn't been enough money to buy me the rifle that I'd wanted for Christmas. We did the chores early that night for some reason. I just figured Pa wanted a little extra time so we could read in the Bible.

After supper was over I took my boots off and stretched out in front of the fireplace and waited for Pa to get down the old Bible. I was still feeling sorry for myself and, to be honest, I wasn't in much of a mood to read scriptures. But Pa didn't get the Bible, instead he bundled up again and went outside. I couldn't figure it out because we had already done all the chores. I didn't worry about it long though, I was too busy wallowing in self-pity. Soon Pa came back in. It was a cold clear night out and there was ice in his beard. "Come on, Matt," he said. "Bundle up good, it's cold out tonight." I was really upset then. Not only wasn't I getting the rifle for Christmas, now Pa was dragging me out in the cold, and for no earthly reason that I could see. We'd already done all the chores, and I couldn't think of anything else that needed doing, especially not on a night like this. But I knew Pa was not very patient at one dragging one's feet when he'd told them to do something, so I got up and put my boots back on and got my cap, coat, and mittens. Ma gave me a mysterious smile as I opened the door to leave the house. Something was up, but I didn't know what.

Outside, I became even more dismayed. There in front of the house was the work team, already hitched to the big sled. Whatever it was we were going to do wasn't going to be a short, quick, little job. I could tell. We never hitched up this sled unless we were going to haul a big load. Pa was already up on the seat, reins in hand. I reluctantly climbed up beside him. The cold was already biting at me. I wasn't happy. When I was on, Pa pulled the sled around the house and stopped in front of the woodshed. He got off and I followed. "I think we'll put on the high sideboards," he said. "Here, help me." The high sideboards! It had been a bigger job than I wanted to do with just the low sideboards on, but whatever it was we were going to do would be a lot bigger with the high side boards on.

After we had exchanged the sideboards, Pa went into the woodshed and came out with an armload of wood - the wood I'd spent all summer hauling down from the mountain, and then all fall sawing into blocks and splitting. What was he doing? Finally I said something. "Pa," I asked, "what are you doing?" "You been by the Widow Jensen's lately?" he asked. The Widow Jensen lived about two miles down the road. Her husband had died a year or so before and left her with three children, the oldest being eight. Sure, I'd been by, but so what?

Yeah," I said, "Why?"

"I rode by just today," Pa said. "Little Jakey was out digging around in the woodpile trying to find a few chips. They're out of wood, Matt." That was all he said and then he turned and went back into the woodshed for another armload of wood. I followed him. We loaded the sled so high that I began to wonder if the horses would be able to pull it. Finally, Pa called a halt to our loading, then we went to the smoke house and Pa took down a big ham and a side of bacon. He handed them to me and told me to put them in the sled and wait. When he returned he was carrying a sack of flour over his right shoulder and a smaller sack of something in his left hand. "What's in the little sack?" I asked. Shoes, they're out of shoes. Little Jakey just had gunny sacks wrapped around his feet when he was out in the woodpile this morning. I got the children a little candy too. It just wouldn't be Christmas without a little candy."

We rode the two miles to Widow Jensen's pretty much in silence. I tried to think through what Pa was doing. We didn't have much by worldly standards. Of course, we did have a big woodpile, though most of what was left now was still in the form of logs that I would have to saw into blocks and split before we could use it. We also had meat and flour, so we could spare that, but I knew we didn't have any money, so why was Pa buying them shoes and candy? Really, why was he doing any of this? Widow Jensen had closer neighbors than us; it shouldn't have been our concern.

We came in from the blind side of the Jensen house and unloaded the wood as quietly as possible, then we took the meat and flour and shoes to the door. We knocked. The door opened a crack and a timid voice said, "Who is it?" "Lucas Miles, Ma'am, and my son, Matt, could we come in for a bit?"

Widow Jensen opened the door and let us in. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The children were wrapped in another and were sitting in front of the fireplace by a very small fire that hardly gave off any heat at all. Widow Jensen fumbled with a match and finally lit the lamp.

"We brought you a few things, Ma'am," Pa said and set down the sack of flour. I put the meat on the table. Then Pa handed her the sack that had the shoes in it. She opened it hesitantly and took the shoes out one pair at a time. There was a pair for her and one for each of the children - sturdy shoes, the best, shoes that would last. I watched her carefully. She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling and then tears filled her eyes and started running down her cheeks. She looked up at Pa like she wanted to say something, but it wouldn't come out.

"We brought a load of wood too, Ma'am," Pa said. He turned to me and said, "Matt, go bring in enough to last awhile. Let's get that fire up to size and heat this place up." I wasn't the same person when I went back out to bring in the wood. I had a big lump in my throat and as much as I hate to admit it, there were tears in my eyes too. In my mind I kept seeing those three kids huddled around the fireplace and their mother standing there with tears running down her cheeks with so much gratitude in her heart that she couldn't speak. My heart swelled within me and a joy that I'd never known before, filled my soul. I had given at Christmas many times before, but never when it had made so much difference. I could see we were literally saving the lives of these people.

I soon had the fire blazing and everyone's spirits soared. The kids started giggling when Pa handed them each a piece of candy and Widow Jensen looked on with a smile that probably hadn't crossed her face for a long time. She finally turned to us. "God bless you," she said. "I know the Lord has sent you. The children and I have been praying that he would send one of his angels to spare us."

In spite of myself, the lump returned to my throat and the tears welled up in my eyes again. I'd never thought of Pa in those exact terms before, but after Widow Jensen mentioned it I could see that it was probably true. I was sure that a better man than Pa had never walked the earth. I started remembering all the times he had gone out of his way for Ma and me, and many others. The list seemed endless as I thought on it.

Pa insisted that everyone try on the shoes before we left. I was amazed when they all fit and I wondered how he had known what sizes to get. Then I guessed that if he was on an errand for the Lord that the Lord would make sure he got the right sizes.

Tears were running down Widow Jensen's face again when we stood up to leave. Pa took each of the kids in his big arms and gave them a hug. They clung to him and didn't want us to go. I could see that they missed their Pa, and I was glad that I still had mine.

At the door Pa turned to Widow Jensen and said, "The Mrs. wanted me to invite you and the children over for Christmas dinner tomorrow. The turkey will be more than the three of us can eat, and a man can get cantankerous if he has to eat turkey for too many meals. We'll be by to get you about eleven. It'll be nice to have some little ones around again. Matt, here, hasn't been little for quite a spell." I was the youngest. My two brothers and two sisters had all married and had moved away.

Widow Jensen nodded and said, "Thank you. I don't have to say, may the Lord bless you, I know for certain that He will."

Out on the sled, I felt a warmth that came from deep within and I didn't even notice the cold. When we had gone a ways, Pa turned to me and said, "Matt, I want you to know something. Your ma and me have been tucking a little money away here and there all year so we could buy that rifle for you, but we didn't have quite enough. Then yesterday a man who owed me a little money from years back came by to make things square. Your ma and me were real excited, thinking that now we could get you that rifle, and I started into town this morning to do just that, but on the way I saw little Jakey out scratching in the woodpile with his feet wrapped in those gunny sacks and I knew what I had to do. Son, I spent the money for shoes and a little candy for those children. I hope you understand."

I understood, and my eyes became wet with tears again. I understood very well, and I was so glad Pa had done it. Now the rifle seemed very low on my list of priorities. Pa had given me a lot more. He had given me the look on Widow Jensen's face and the radiant smiles of her three children.

For the rest of my life, whenever I saw any of the Jensens, or split a block of wood, I remembered, and remembering brought back that same joy I felt riding home beside Pa that night. Pa had given me much more than a rifle that night, he had given me the best Christmas of my life.



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