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Moderate submission is victory in itself. Thursday, July 12, 2007. How may be we meet. In my loveliest moment? That we may forge an earthly tryst. So Buddha turned me into a tree. Growing by a path you would pass through. Carefully decked with blooms under the sunlight. Each blossom the yearnings of a past life. When you come near, pray listen. The quivering leaves are my anticipating passion. And when you finally pass in oblivion. The shower that litters the ground -.

Saturday, May 5, 2007. The momma moose looked up freaked out and bound toward them. With not much room to spare they ran like a bat out of hell. Alisha lost her flips flops in the guck of the marsh as she got to into the stream she had stepped right onto a small fish which caused her to slip and fall.