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Our favorite waitress in a “special pose.”

Two or three times a week my husband and I have the great pleasure of having breakfast together at our local spot, Cindy’s Pancakes also known as Pancakes Plus.We love the people who come there daily: they are the locals, the workers, the older couples, and the men who make it a habit and especially like to sit at the counter, read their paper, and drink their coffee.

The help are all well-connected and most have worked there for years. They have learned to work as a unit. They help each other to make the tasks flow. They can fill in and substitute to do all of the jobs. They have forged life-long friendships working together.

They get to know all their customers very well. They observe their comings and goings, and miss them when they haven’t been there as usual. They chat about all these things with their patrons, the ones who want to chat.

I love the place and the people.

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Joan of Arc

I know this now. Every man gives his life for what he believes. Every woman gives her life for what she believes. Sometimes people believe in little or nothing yet they give their lives to that little or nothing. One life is all we have and we live it as we believe in living it. And then it is gone. But to sacrifice what you are and live without belief, that's more terrible than dying.--

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July 2007



On the day when
the weight deadens
on your shoulders
and you stumble,
may the clay dance
to balance you.

And when your eyes
freeze behind
the grey window
and the ghost of loss
gets in to you,
may a flock of colours,
indigo, red, green,
and azure blue
come to awaken in you
a meadow of delight.

When the canvas frays
in the currach of thought
and a stain of ocean
blackens beneath you,
may there come across the waters
a path of yellow moonlight
to bring you safely home.

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.
And so may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak
to mind your life.

John O'Donohue, Echoes of Memory