Congrats/Kudos: to Lana (LanaR) and her darling husband on their 29th wedding anniversary on June 29th. Happy Anniversary to you both and may you have many many more!

Everyone loves a reason to celebrate, no matter how great the milestone or small the event so don't forget to post your good news under group comments or by sending me an email.

Celebrating birthdays in June: Lynne (alaskainmydreams) 6/13, Julia (butterflylady747) 6/17, Christine (cdkscully) 6/9, Anthony (crazyitalian) 6/13, Douglas (drk556) 6/15, Sue (farieslovers23) 6/6, Angela (heaven53) 6/3, John (kuryakin2) 6/7, Char (LadyChars) 6/13, Elena (LaHelen) 6/22, Mary Ann (Poetry) 6/6, Brad (BradKronen) 6/11.

We don't want to miss your birthday: reply to this email (you MUST be 18 or older) with (ONLY) the month/day (NOT the year) you were born and your birthday will be posted in an upcoming newsletter.

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This week in the funnies:



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Two American tourists are driving through Wales. They decide to stop for a bite to eat in the village of Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllantysiliogogogoch.*

Baffled by the name, one of them turns to a local and asks, "Would you please say where we are--very slowly?"

The Welshman leans over and say, very slowly,"Burrr-gurrr-Kinngg."

Submitted by Denise Stewart

*We kid you not! The 3,000 people in this community on the island of Anglesey must spend hours writing their return address.

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En route to Atlanta, my stepfather spotted some mules by the side of the road. "Relatives?" he asked my mother.

Not taking the bait, she responded, "Yeah, through marriage."

Submitted by Erica Vannoy

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Riddle: The Portrait of an Unknown Man

One man shows another the portrait of a gentleman and tells him: "I have neither brothers nor sisters,
but this man's father is the son of my father."

Who is the man in the painting?

Give up? Find the answer at the bottom of this newsletter.

Do you have something to submit to this section? Reply to this email and your submissions will be posted in upcoming newsletters. The items used in this section were found through Google and Reader's Digest.

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Member suggested websites:



Andre Sobel River of Life Foundation: "By caring for the single caregiver we care for the child." When compassion can’t wait and single parent families are in despair, the Andre Sobel River of Life Foundation helps with urgent expenses to allow these caregivers to stay at their child’s bedside during catastrophic illness.



On The Air TV: A video sharing and social networking website created by our very own Gloria (gamerglo). Join me and others (zacksrepair; ShayMoyer; DaringDaver; oldmarine; chucklespig; etc.) from LiveVideo and perhaps meet some new people.

Would you like to see your website or your favorite organization's site here? Reply to this email with a link to the website and I'll add it to an upcoming newsletter!

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Barbara De Angelis said...

“Living with integrity means: Not settling for less than what you know you deserve in your relationships. Asking for what you want and need from others. Speaking your truth, even though it might create conflict or tension. Behaving in ways that are in harmony with your personal values. Making choices based on what you believe, and not what others believe.” ~submitted by Judith (B4Salk)

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~A Very Short Story~
by Dana Sear (hairdvs)

I can’t remember her face or the sound of her voice. But I remember her hair. It was long and silky and when she bent down to pick me up or hold me it would fall forward and brush my face. It was so soft, it smelled good. It was warm. It tickled.

I don’t really remember when or why she left but the house got darker and it closed in on me. The drapes were drawn and a heavy layer of dust fell over the house and us. We moved slower and the music stopped. I remember waking up and skipping into the kitchen expecting to see her there stirring cinnamon and sugar into the grits because that’s the only thing I would eat. She would be wearing her monkey shoes that I don’t actually remember but I’ve been told that they were Curious George slippers. Instead, I was confronted by a toaster that wasn’t plugged in and a few dishes in the sink.

I started looking for her when I was a teenager, about ten years after she left. I asked a lot of questions and got very few answers. No one knew anything and what they did know, they weren’t telling. “It’s time to move on.”, “Why are you bringing all this up now?”, “Leave it alone.” Everyone wanted me to do what she had done.

Every moment of every day since she left, I have been looking for her. I look for her face in the crowd, in line at the grocery store, on the back of milk cartons. Every so often, I will see someone going up an escalator and the hair catches my eye. I follow - every time - just to be disappointed - every time. In my head I know it isn't her. She would be older now and if she was nearby, she would come look for me. In my heart hope lives on.

We moved. A lot. I cried myself to sleep every night because I knew that when she came back, she wouldn’t be able to find us. I begged, pleaded and bargained to stay in that dusty, old, dark house and each one there after, to no avail. I chased people with long, silky hair up escalators and through grocery stores and crowds in many cities.

Many years have passed since she left. The silence surrounding her sudden disappearance has grown heavy and tedious. Secrets carry their own burdens and wear away at the soul like the ocean against the rocks. So I went home. I am standing in front of the old house. The curtains are no longer drawn. There’s a fresh coat of paint, a new porch with a swing, and a new mailbox with flowers growing in one of those barrels that have been cut in half. It’s smaller than I remember. A bike is laying on it’s side in the grass and you can see depressions where someone with small feet has run through it, ignoring the sidewalk that wraps around to the back of the house. As I walk around to the back, in search of what I remember as a field for a back yard, I see it.

Along the back fence wild flowers are growing so thick that you can’t see what’s on the other side and , in the corner, under the tree with the rope swing, is a small well. Fresh, clear, sparkling water runs and feeds the ivy and flowers that surround it. A small bench beckons me to sit, somehow knowing the new family won’t mind. Someone who was loved very much has been remembered here and the new family has reverently revived her garden.

After a few minutes, a woman with long, silky hair steps out of the house. She watches me for some time before quietly approaching. Not sure what to do, she sits down next to me. Her hair smells good as I catch the fragrance wafting through the breeze, she asks if I knew the original owner of this garden. “Not very well”, I say. “But I loved her very much.”

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Until we meet again, dear friends, have a wonderful June!

Newsletter contributors: Bless the Beasts and the Children, David (blueeagle48), Barbara De Angelis quote, Judith (B4Salk), I may not, But I am, Noel (NYC), A Very Short Story by Dana (hairdvs), proofreading by Dawn (Lyecoatha). If you don't see your contribution in this newsletter, it will be in a future issue (thank you for your patience). If you'd like to contribute to the newsletter or you'd prefer not to receive the newsletter, please respond to this email to let me know.

Riddle answer: The gentleman in the portrait is the son of the man who is speaking.