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In reply to: Join me for a gourd of langoat milk……
You’ll notice that it works better when there is interesting content. Like on Armelle’s thread of meditation, dreams, syncs and thoughts , there are advertisements on how to get abundant, and on philosophy, and reality creation and such… It’s quite impressive.
Guess we will be bound to Guinness advertisements here
In reply to: Join me for a gourd of langoat milk……
Does the world alzheimer work? or the word puppies or the word house and holidays… mmm buy a new car? or save money?
or monkey island? the big mama is drunk and she gives you soup…In reply to: Synchronicity
not very nice to lemon trees, this song, also now I can’t get it out of my head. 
for the maligned lemon treeIn reply to: Synchronicity
Ahahaha! In the Drôle’s garden all that I can see is just a yellow lemon tree …
And I wonder now
“When life gives you lemons, make lemonade”, anyone? Perhaps a quote to add to Armelle’s list
And believe it or not, there’s a mandarin version of the lemon tree by Tracy !
In reply to: Synchronicity
Finn and baby synch
Advice for Becky
WELL I thought this was hilarious.
yes, but everyone knows you are weirdoIn reply to: Rafaela’s Random Ramblings
In reply to: Yuki’s Livrary
November 9 th
For Yurick, or perhaps shall we say, The Artist Formerly Known As Quintin this sequence of sequence of 911 has the signification of a reminder to be paying attention to self, and being present to himself.
The last few days have been, in appearance, quite devoid of exciting new installments of the story, yet, we nudge him not to judge this lack of activity on his part as categorically as he has been used to do. It was a time of self-retreat, a time we have shared with many other essences, as all is connected.
A very fine point which has been brought forth by Elias a few days ago (in Yurick’s perception of time) has been that you want to appreciate the process. His illustration was that of a beautiful flower bud that you hold, and that you don’t want to tear open, but rather let itself reveal its splendor, and also, its surprises.It has prompted Yurick to remember something, which had lots of meaning to him.
Some years ago, when he was in Kyoto’s forests, he picked up an acorn, as he liked to have seeds or tree corns in his pockets. Back from his trip, in his home, there was this big pot of earth were an old plant had died from the summer heat, and he planted the acorn in it.
And he waited. Till he had to move, some months later, having renounced to have the acorn grow at all, as the soil’s surface was remaining desperately flat. Perhaps it had rotten altogether. Before leaving the apartment, Yurick started to rummage with his bare hands into the soil, to look for the remains of the acorn he believed had rotten, only to find it perfectly healthy. And even more, it had grown lots of long roots.
So he took it back home, where it was planted and still continues to grow at a rapid rate.Looking at the now big sapling reminds Yurick how that process of growing roots was important for the plant, as they were essential for the oak to be able to survive the winters colds and the summers heats.
Such is the importance of these moments were inspiration seem to be scarce, or away. It is ever present, growing its roots very carefully inside the soil of your being, and expanding your connexions, redefining some, bringing new nourishments to yourself… The effects are not always immediately visible, but things never cease to move.
Be prepared to be amazed by the colors of the flowers and leaves your seed produces, for as Yurick’s oak was an unusual kind of oak (a chestnut oak ), the very seeds that are in your pockets or waiting in the soils of your dream gardens may reveal their own surprises…
In reply to: Armelle – meditations, dreams, synchs, thoughts
9/11/2007
Finn’s raft has mysteriously disappeared. This can’t be good for floating.Oh no, it is just slow to load .. so Finn thought her raft had disappeared, but in actual fact it hadn’t at all. All is well.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Vincentius wanted to know where Arona had been heading.
She rummaged in her bag and pulled out her map to show him. Then her honestly got the better of her. No idea really, she confessed. How about you?
No idea either, said Vincentius.
Arona tried to look serious, then cracked up laughing and after a moment Vincentius joined in. Arona could not help but note what a lovely musical laugh he had. Definitely no snorting, and for a moment she thought fondly of dear wandering Sanso. I Wonder where he is now?
While they were busy laughing, they did not notice the woman arrive, but all of a sudden there she was, an old, bent, withered crone. An apparition of pure ugliness. Their laughter stopped abruptly.
Laughing my little lovelies were you, please don’t stop on my account said the crone. What a perfectly delightful sound. Music to my poor old ears. And she cackled gleefully.
oh Lordy, muttered Mandrake, his patience wearing thin with all the, what he considered, unwarranted and unnecessary joyfulness.
and what a cute little pussy cat, said the old woman, her long gnarly fingers gently resting on Mandrake for a moment. Mandrake snarled.
and a baby, said the old woman, reaching out to Yikesy who was cradled in Arona’s arms.
In reply to: Rafaela’s Random Ramblings
In reply to: The Room of Requirements
hmmm something has gone wrong with my footnotes
Malvina’s Dragon Rookery # 286
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Inspired by the courageous example of Finn, Quintin was thinking of changing his name too.
There were too many Quintins out there, and he needed to find something more suitable. Michaela had mistaken him again for another Quintin, and of course, Quintin had heard Elias laugh in the background.
Yann’s battery of his new phone was charged at 33%, so that was probably a confirmation too.Why not something like Yurick…
Looking for a confirmation, Quintin found this.YORICK: Altered form of JORCK. This name was used by Shakespeare for a court jester in his play ‘Hamlet’.
JORCK: Danish form of GEORGESo that was it… Having recently read some poems from George Gordon Byron, Quintin thought that it was in perfect sync.
Yurick was henceforth adopted.Interestingly, Yurick noticed that it was the 303 rd comment posted. So it was obviously another confirmation. Perhaps that with his new name, now Yurick wouldn’t need 3 confirmations in a row…
In reply to: Join me for a gourd of langoat milk……
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Ooops… All that farting was as exhausting as being in labour, thought the mummy.
(What!? no farting mummy icon
)In reply to: Talks on the latest Instalments
Wowowow Tracy!! What’s that about Sam being 123?
Malvina’s Dragon Rookery # 298 In reply to: Synchronicity
Well just roaming the web I found that link to asaris people :
and they say :
A typical asari individual has a blue and/or green complexion.
look at the Asaris — The blue men’s world — by Írtak
And they also say that : Despite their small military size, their flagship, the Destiny Ascension, is the most powerful warship ever constructed.
Are they also ascended
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Becky was in labour. Well, I don’t know why they call it ‘labour’ she said, this is easy. Moments later a bonny blue eyed baby boy slipped effortlessly into the physical world.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Dory stuck three nicotine patches in a neat row along her thigh, and rubbed them to make sure they were properly stuck. She would be glad when the era of medical suggestibility was over. I really must remember to practice out of body travel, she thought, as she always thought when she had to travel by conventional means.
The sight of white ferret streaking through the airport lounge interrupted her grumbling.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
And so my story ends … said Vincentius to Yikesy.
Arona laughed to herself. Vincentius had insisted on telling a story to Yikesy, and certainly his deep melodic voice did seem to soothe the little baby, but really it was Arona who enjoyed listening the most.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Finn opened her eyes for a moment, not to look where she was going, but just to marvel at what a golden day it was. For a moment she thought she saw a large bird in the sky , but, being rubbish at identifying bird species, she had no idea what it was. How cool is that, she thought.
She felt less bemused and perplexed than she had for ages. After all there was nothing to do but relax, and follow the current of the river.
