The book was donated to the class/school by Friends of the Library as educators were allowed to paw through and take unsold books for classrooms. Wehby’s journey with Sam, with her intuitive strength that she connected with as de Becker talked about it in The Gift of Fear. I greet my molecules each day recognizing the drive that directs them to work together as “G-d.” I was mesmerized by Dr. I draw on Dr Seldon’s thoughts in The Body Electric and Malcolm Gladwell’s writings that were underlined by your comment on page 193 about the human coming out of a couple of cells in another human. My thoughts and writings are currently puzzling a path through the ideas of our molecular structure and our electrical structure. I note two of the passages from 186 and 192: “parents are influenced by the way facts are presented” and “message through the compromised stem and out through the nerves.” I have done the same for years as well as underlining and margin noting my personal books. I have students’ put significant passages in their readings in a log we discuss these logs daily. Read your blog quoting Dylan and Stones the writing’s spirit reminded me of Dylan’s Grain of Sand song. Retired high school English teacher now teaching reading part time in adult ed and part time GED at Brevard County Jail. In coming weeks, I plan to feature the work, and dreams, of people doing just that. In June 2015, TickTick 2. I met her, and over time, learned her story and learned why she wanted to write it for her three sons. TickTick was first launched on iOS, Android and web browser in June 2013 and later debuted on Mac and Windows in 2016. ![]() ![]() She moved to Portland – not knowing a single person – to rebuild her shattered life. Her husband, a surgeon, divorced her when she learned she had breast cancer. We put off those creative projects because we figure we will start next week, next month, next year.Ī couple years ago, a friend of mine told me she wanted to write her story to give to her family. I’ve still got the scars that the sun didn’t let me heal. It’s too hot to sleep and time is running away Shadows are falling and I been here all day Hours are like diamonds, don’t let them waste Time can tear down a building, or destroy a woman’s face “Time Waits for No One,” by the Rolling Stones:Īnd time waits for no one, and it won’t wait for me The answer – as so often happens to me – comes in two songs: That night, I learned that a friend of mine, a once vibrant woman, now has Alzheimer’s and is in a care center. She talked about the kind of stories she wants to pursue, what she wants to work on and the doubts she grapples with. From Wisconsin, she’s started work at her first paper after graduating from college. On Saturday morning, I took a phone call from a 21-year-old reporter who wanted advice. As expected, I’ve been thinking about the past, the present and the future.
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