May 2016 Catalog of Inspiration

Page 1

ART by

K A Y L E E P E T E R S O N

M A R C H 2 0 1 6

3nd Issue

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MY SOUR SWEET TOOTH Let me tell you about how sugar got me. It got me good and I hope it’ll be an Inspiration. Perhaps a diversion. To help you make choices for healthy conversion. I grew up loving sugar in all its form. Candy, cereal, and food that’s ‘norm.’ I had a sweet tooth, oh my! Did I! And cavities to boot, but I didn’t cry. One year I learned my lesson well. And if I could help you, please let me tell. What you put in your body today matters. Because later it might cause your body to shatter. I was living in the countryside of France. Where yummy food put me in a trance. Baguettes and cheese and chocolate pleasures. And so many yummy, yummy treasures! From morning to night I would delight. In rich, sugary foods. I realized later how my moods. Were wrought inside by the sugary fight. I moved there in June and by October. I was weekly to see “Monsieur Docteur”. One time I had cramps so severe in my belly. I couldn’t stand up! I was flat like jelly! That was the prelude to a bladder infection. Try peeing when it burns to high heaven! Then appeared a yeast infection to fight. I itched in my privates for a fortnight! Bronchitis, coughing, and sneezing were standard. I had snot and mucous that dripped and meandered! I gained twenty pounds, which for some might not matter. But for me, a slight lady, it certainly didn’t flatter! The worst thing of all (and the blessing as well). Was fatigue as debilitating as a broken bell.

By Monica Perrier My body took over. It told me “Go home!” I was angry, twisted, and drone. What went wrong? Why was I so sick? Why was my body playing this trick? Back in the States my sister took one look. She handed me my first life-saving book. It told me about sugar’s major downside. How it leaves the body sick and vulnerable on the inside. It feeds the ruthless bacteria “candida” which can hide. And is the root cause of many diseases body-wide. I didn’t know it then but I know it now. That everything we eat affects us somehow. Sugar kills the sweetness inside. And leaves you wondering if there’s a bright side. My whole life has changed through that little un-ease. I hope to help others before theirs is disease. Food creates health but you have to CHOOSE it. And let go of foods that makes you LOSE it. I hope my story has given you pleasure. Perhaps motivation to take some measure. To feed the sweetness inside. Not with sugar, sweeteners and refined goo. But with real foods that heal you.

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“A Wish Of Mine Secured In A Rhyme” The lives that I’ve touched Are ever so few As compared when the whole Is brought into view For no one may know Save one, of the whole Yet each plays a part Each plays a role And this role which I play With it’s purpose unclear Has blessed me with friends I cherish so dear May I always live up To the friendship they give For they are the keys To this life which I live And I simply do wish I’m remembered one way As a friend who did care By all passing his way © Dave Nieves

9-22-84

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There

are 4,7 speci 40 es of frogs

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FROG WHIPPED

Wheat harvest! Hot weather! Dust and long hours. Desire for

good eating. Ideal conditions for a devoted coon hunter.

There

are 4,740 speci es of frogs

My sister Margie and I had been canning green beans all day. Canning is a hot, tiring process, even though it is rewarding. It was midnight when Clarence banged open the door exclaiming, “Let’s take old Doc and Gad”. Immediately Margie protested not wanting to be chasing dogs all night. But were game for anything. So we just crammed plastic bread sacks into our pockets. We hit the first pond in the moonlight. Despite Gad’s protective scouting which consisted of splashing and barking right in front of us, we managed to get two nice frogs. He proudly ran front guard for us. Naturally Doc was all business, working for a hot scent instead of bothering us. At the second pond we quickly nabbed three more nice frogs. Simultaneously old Doc began to talk. Gad joined in. Have you ever hear a cow dog try to bay like a hound? He didn’t just bark, he yipped and then gave a long, drawn out howl that screeched at the end. It sure was a good night for frog hunting, folks. Clarence hollered that he had another frog and Margie ran over to get it. As she opened her sack out jumped a frog! We all panicked for a brief second before we realized it wasn’t a snake. Slowly she eased her sack open again and quickly crammed in the critter. Kathunk!!! Another one hit the ground. That’s when we saw the hole in the bottom of her plastic sack. She was losing frogs faster than we could catch ‘em. Meanwhile, Clarence, like any good coon hunter, had been listening to the dogs. They had circled


and were headed back toward us, loud and clear. Suddenly he shouted, “There he is!!!” He kept pointing his froggig up in a big willow tree growing out of the side of the pond dam. He kept saying, “Can you see him? Can you see him?” Finally it dawned on me that it was a coon, not a frog. This big, old tree was huge. It had all kinds of sprouts around the base of the trunk like a jungle and hung way out over the water. Gad, the faithful cow dog that he is, hit that tree and kept on going up it like a cat. Well folks, Gad was determined to get that coon. He went up that tree as far as the limbs would support him and then he couldn’t get down. He started backing down, lost his grip and crashed to the bottom of the brush pile, a 12 ft. fall. Margie, of course, dove into those limbs, just knowing that Gad had impaled himself. Fortunately, he was unhurt.

A gr o of fr up o is ca gs l an ‘a led rmy ’

Doc, the professional that he is, was still treeing. A beautiful sight, and Clarence, being the professional hunter he is, started right up that big, old tree to shake out that coon. He loudly instructed Margie and I to hold the dogs on the bank until the coon hit the water, then turn the dogs loose. That’s where he made his first mistake. Clarence shouted, “Get ready!” Well, that coon hit the water and all hell broke loose. They waylaid that coon and the fight was on. It grabbed Doc first and under the water they went. When

Frogs don’t drink water they absorb it through their skin

they came up, Gad grabbed old Mr. Coon, with our shouting and encouragements, giving Doc a chance to catch his breath. Now, Doc is an experienced Coon dog, but Gad, he’s just a good ole dog, like those “good ole boys”. He grabbed Gad by the ears, nailed him with his fangs right in the nose and under they went. They came up headed out to the middle of the pond. Doc was swimming for them, but under they went again, before he could get there. The coon and Gad’s nose broke the top of the water, closer to us again, but further away from Doc. Poor Gad’s eyes were about to pop out of his head.


He knew he was in trouble. Margie was screaming for Gad and already in the water up to her knees.

r close e v e n Frogs es, even y their e ey sleep, n th yes ca when e r i e h and t o help d t d e s o be u heir fo t w o l swal

Clarance, still up in the tree, was sending Doc after the coon, shaking tree limbs like a monkey after cocoanuts. I was looking for Gad, who was still under the water, and Margie ewas headed for deep water, fixing to ar re buddy. save Theher 0 She had on one of those headlights, 4 7 , 4 but the inside straps were broken inside the skullcap. s of Consequently, specie it kept slipping around on her head.

frogs

She stumbled into a hole in the water and the headgear slipped plumb off her head, wrapping the battery cord around her neck. She was struggling with it. Trying to keep from choking I was attempting to back Margie out of the water before she blew her batteries and electrocuted herself. Moving backwards she fell down on the bank. I dove into the water hoping it wasn’t too late to find that good ole cow dog. I’d last seen him about 10 feet out. I was underwater swimming blind, but I did feel something, soft and furry. It was a wad of fur and a stub-tail. That was enough…..I grabbed a hunk of that fur and headed for high ground. We thought Gad was dead. Drowned. He wasn’t breathing or moving as we began pumping air in and water out. After a couple of minutes he still wasn’t breathing, so, Margie (they say love makes you blind) began mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on him. Clarance hollered to pick him up by his hind legs and let him hang with his head down. Figuring we had nothing to lose, we did. Gad began coughing and bubbling. He was sure surprised to find himself on the bank of that pond lying in Margie’s lap. Finally, he stood up. Doc was right there, concerned about his hunting buddy. Margie was crying, done in both physically and mentally. She started laughing and pointing at me. I just knew she had lost it, then I realized that through all the


calamity, I had never turned loose of my sack of frogs. They were still just as tightly clenched in my fist as when I first took them from Margie. Clarence started down out of the tree, laughing and whooping from all the excitement. That’s when he made his 2nd mistake. Margie reached out and grabbed that sack of frogs and ran toward Clarance, swinging that sack like it was a pair of nun chucks. Her language sure wasn’t what a pretty, blonde headed lady should be spouting either. Have you ever been hit in the ribs with a sack of wet frogs? Have you ever heard a sack of wet frogs hit anything solid?

wasn’t much better for a couple of days. Margie and Clarance don’t talk much about that night, and if I get hungry for frog legs, the Supermarket’s are a lot less trouble than asking either one of them if they want to go frog gigging.

By “Warfield”

GLOSSARY

Harvest - process or period of gathering in crops Devoted - very loving or loyal Scent - a distinctive smell Simultaneously - at the same time Hollered - giving a loud shout or cry

Clarance climbed back up that tree out of her reach quicker than any coon could climb. His coon hunter arguments weren’t doing him any good now. Every time he started to ease down out of that tree she would be there swinging at him again telling him to never sic her dog on anything, and especially not on anything in water. He “honeyed” and “babied” her for an hour before he finally got out of that tree. That was only because he could see her and Gad marching across the field toward the pickup in the moonlight and knew he could outrun her if he had too.

Panicked - sudden uncontrollable fear or anxiety, often causing wildly unthinking behavior

Me and poor Doc just kind of kept our mouths shut and eased into the truck. Margie refused to talk during the ride home and Clarance was keeping one eye on the road and the other on that sack of

Clenched - (having your fingers or hand) close into a tight ball Whooping - loud cry of joy Language - method of communication Spouting - to talk or speak

frogs in Margie’s hand. Needless to say, a good, hot bath and 8 hours sleep improved everyone’s dispositions, except Gad’s. His nose looked like he’d been snake bit and his mood

Critter - a living creature; an animal Frog-gig - a device Dam - a barrier made to hold back water Coon - short for raccoon Waylaid - stop or interrupt (someone) Encouragements - the action of giving confidence, or hope Resuscitation - to revive (someone) Concerned - worried, troubled, or anxious Calamity - event causing disaster

Arguments - spoken fight between people Refused - to not agree to and say “no” to Dispositions - attitude or mood of a person or animal


Endless Summer Kaylee Peterson Age 13

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