bole

Most people need to hear those “three little words” I love you. Once in a while, they hear them just in time.

I met Connie the day she was admitted to the hospice ward, where I worked as a volunteer. Her husband, Bill, stood nervously nearby as she was transferred from the gurney to the hospital bed. Although Connie was in the final stages of her fight against cancer, she was alert and cheerful. We got her settled in. I finished marking her name on all the hospital supplies she would be using, then asked if she needed anything.

“Oh, yes,” she said, “would you please show me how to use the TV? I enjoy the soaps so much and I don’t want to get behind on what’s happening.” Connie was a romantic. She loved soap operas, romance novels and movies with a good love story. As we became acquainted, she confided how frustrating it was to be married 32 years to a man who often called her “a silly woman.”

“Oh, I know Bill loves me,” she said, “but he has never been one to say he loves me, or send cards to me.” She sighed and looked out the window at the trees in the courtyard. “I’d give anything if he’d say ‘I love you,’ but it’s just not in his nature.”

Bill visited Connie every day. In the beginning, he sat next to the bed while she watched the soaps. Later, when she began sleeping more, he paced up and down the hallway outside her room. Soon, when she no longer watched television and had fewer waking moments, I began spending more of my volunteer time with Bill.

He talked about having worked as a carpenter and how he liked to go fishing. He and Connie had no children, but they’d been enjoying retirement by traveling, until Connie got sick. Bill could not express his feelings about the fact that his wife was dying.

One day, over coffee in the cafeteria, I got him on the subject of women and how we need romance in our lives; how we love to get sentimental1 cards and love letters.

“Do you tell Connie you love her?” I asked (knowing his answer), and he looked at me as if I was crazy.

“I don’t have to,” he said. “She knows I do!”

“I’m sure she knows,” I said, reaching over and touching his hands  rough, carpenter’s hands that were gripping the cup as if it were the only thing he had to hang onto  “but she needs to hear it, Bill. She needs to hear what she has meant to you all these years. Please think about it.”

We walked back to Connie’s room. Bill disappeared inside, and I left to visit another patient. Later, I saw Bill sitting by the bed. He was holding Connie’s hand as she slept. The date was February 12.

Two days later I walked down the hospice ward at noon. There stood Bill, leaning up against the wall in the hallway, staring at the floor. I already knew from the head nurse that Connie had died at 11 A.M..

When Bill saw me, he allowed himself to come into my arms for a long time. His face was wet with tears and he was trembling. Finally, he leaned back against the wall and took a deep breath.

“I have to say something,” he said. “I have to say how good I feel about telling her.” He stopped to blow his nose. “I thought a lot about what you said, and this morning I told her how much I loved her and loved being married to her. You shoulda2 seen her smile!”

I went into the room to say my own goodbye to Connie. There, on the bedside table, was a large Valentine card from Bill. You know, the sentimental kind that says, “To my wonderful wife I love you.”

“But what if I break my arm again?” my five year-old daughter asked, her lower lip trembling. I knelt holding onto her bike and looked her right in the eyes. I knew how much she wanted to learn to ride. How often she felt left out when her friends pedaled by our house. Yet ever since she’d fallen off her bike and broken her arm, she’d been afraid.

“Oh honey,” I said. “I don’t think you’ll break another arm.”

“But I could, couldn’t I?”

“Yes,” I admitted, and found myself struggling for the right thing to say. At times like this, I wished I had a partner to turn to. Someone who might help find the right words to make my little girl’s problems disappear. But after a disastrous marriage and a painful divorce, I’d welcomed the hardships of being a single parent and had been adamant in telling anyone who tried to fix me up that I was terminally single.

“I don’t think I want to ride,” she said and got off her bike.

We walked away and sat down beside a tree.

“Don’t you want to ride with your friends?” I asked.

“And I thought you were hoping to start riding your bike to school next year,” I added.

“I was,” she said, her voice almost a quiver.

“You know, hon,” I said. “Most everything you do comes with risks. You could get a broken arm in a car wreck and then be afraid to ever ride in a car again. You could break your arm jumping rope. You could break your arm at gymnastics. Do you want to stop going to gymnastics?”

“No,” she said. And with a determined spirit, she stood up and agreed to try again. I held on to the back of her bike until she found the courage to say, “Let’s go!”

I spent the rest of the afternoon at the park watching a very brave little girl overcome a fear, and congratulating myself for being a self-sufficient single parent.

As we walked home, pushing the bike as we made our way along the sidewalk, she asked me about a conversation she’d overheard me having with my mother the night before.

“Why were you and grandma arguing last night?”

My mother was one of the many people who constantly tried to fix me up. How many times had I told her “no” to meeting the Mr. Perfect she picked out for me. She just knew Steve was the man for me.

“It’s nothing,” I told her.

She shrugged. “Grandma said she just wanted you to find someone to love.”

“What grandma wants is for some guy to break my heart again,” I snapped, angry that my mother had said anything about this to my daughter.

“But Mom.”

“You’re too young to understand,” I told her.

She was quiet for the next few minutes. Then she looked up and in a small voice gave me something to think about.

“So I guess love isn’t like a broken arm.”

Unable to answer, we walked the rest of the way in silence. When I got home, I called my mother and scolded her for talking about this to my daughter. Then I did what I’d seen my brave little girl do that very afternoon. I let go and agreed to meet Steve.

Steve was the man for me. We married less than a year later. It turned out mother and my daughter were right.

may be you have been using cellphone to found time for a long time,but do you know how to measure time without modern technique ,what is the oldest “clock” like?

now,let me tell you something for help!That is the water clock!

The oldest water clock of which there is physical evidence dates to c. 1417-1379 BC, during the reign of Amenhotep III where it was used in the Temple of Amen-Re at Karnak. The oldest documentation of the water clock is the tomb inscription of the 16th century BC Egyptian court official Amenemhet, which identifies him as its inventor. These simple water clocks, which were of the outflow type, were stone vessels with sloping sides that allowed water to drip at a nearly constant rate from a small hole near the bottom. There were twelve separate columns with consistently spaced markings on the inside to measure the passage of “hours” as the water level reached them. The columns were for each of the twelve months to allow for the variations of the seasonal hours. These clocks were used by priests to determine the time at night so that the temple rites and sacrifices could be performed at the correct hour.These clocks may have been used in daylight as well.

in the old times, people didn’t have modern clock,they use water to measure time,such as water clock orclepsydra.

water clock or clepsydra is any timepiece in which time is measured by the regulated flow of liquid into (inflow type) or out from (outflow type) a vessel where the amount is then measured.

Water clocks, along with sundials, are likely to be the oldest time-measuring instruments, with the only exceptions being the vertical gnomon and the day-counting tally stick.[1] Where and when they were first invented is not known, and given their great antiquity it may never be. The bowl-shaped outflow is the simplest form of a water clock and is known to have existed in Babylon and in Egypt around the 16th century BC. Other regions of the world, including India and China, also have early evidence of water clocks, but the earliest dates are less certain. Some authors, however, claim that water clocks appeared in China as early as 4000 BC.

The Greeks, Romans further advanced water clock design to include the inflow clepsydra with an early feedback system, gearing, and escapement mechanism, which were connected to fanciful automata and resulted in improved accuracy. Further advances were made in Byzantium and particularly the Islamic world, where increasingly accurate water clocks incorporated complex segmental and epicyclic gearing, water wheels, and programmability, advances which eventually made their way to Europe. Independently, the Chinese developed their own advanced water clocks, incorporating gears, escapement mechanisms, and water wheels, passing their ideas on to Korea and Japan.

Some water clock designs were developed independently and some knowledge was transferred through the spread of trade. These early water clocks were calibrated with a sundial. While never reaching a level of accuracy comparable to today’s standards of timekeeping, the water clock was the most accurate and commonly used timekeeping device for millennia, until it was replaced by more accurate pendulum clocks in 18th century Europe.

As time goes by,way to record time change again and again whit the development of technology,but one should not change is the attitude toward time,that is to value it and try to make full use!

He met her at a party. She was so outstanding, many guys chasing after her, while he was so normal, nobody paid attention to him.

At the end of the party, he invited her to have coffee with him, she was surprised but due to being polite, she promised. They sat in a nice coffee shop, he was too nervous to say anything, she felt uncomfortable, and she thought to herself, “Please, let me go home…”

Suddenly he asked the waiter, “Would you please give me some salt? I’d like to put it in my coffee.” Everybody stared at him, so strange! His face turned red but still, he put the salt in his coffee and drank it. She asked him curiously, “Why you have this hobby?” He replied, “When I was a little boy, I lived near the sea, I liked playing in the sea, I could feel the taste of the sea, just like the taste of the salty coffee. Now every time I have the salty coffee, I always think of my childhood, think of my hometown, I miss my hometown so much, I miss my parents who are still living there.” While saying that tears filled his eyes. She was deeply touched. That’s his true feeling, from the bottom of his heart. A man who can tell out his homesickness, he must be a man who loves home, cares about home, has responsibility of home… Then she also started to speak, spoke about her faraway hometown, her childhood, her family.

That was a really nice talk, also a beautiful beginning of their story. They continued to date. She found that actually he was a man who meets all her demands; he had tolerance, was kind hearted, warm, careful. He was such a good person but she almost missed him! Thanks to his salty coffee! Then the story was just like every beautiful love story, the princess married to the prince, and then they were living the happy life… And, every time she made coffee for him, she put some salt in the coffee, as she knew that’s the way he liked it.

After 40 years, he passed away, left her a letter which said, “My dearest, please forgive me, forgive my whole life’s lie. This was the only lie I said to you － the salty coffee. Remember the first time we dated? I was so nervous at that time, actually I wanted some sugar, but I said salt. It was hard for me to change so I just went ahead. I never thought that could be the start of our communication! I tried to tell you the truth many times in my life, but I was too afraid to do that, as I have promised not to lie to you for anything… Now I’m dying, I’m afraid of nothing so I tell you the truth, I don’t like the salty coffee, what a strange bad taste… But I have had the salty coffee for my whole life! Since I knew you, I never feel sorry for anything I do for you. Having you with me is my biggest happiness for my whole life. If I can live for the second time, still want to know you and have you for my whole life, even though I have to drink the salty coffee again.”

Her tears made the letter totally wet. Someday, someone asked her, “What’s the taste of salty coffee?” She replied, “It’s sweet.”

copy from others.

I have frequented the same chat line for more than three years now and have made some wonderful online friendships. However I have become bored with the typical chat and Internet all together. So, I decided to take a break.

After about a week of being off line, I returned late one night to check mail. There, in my box was an emai1 from a lady friend I had met in a chat room. She was going on and on about a man that had recently entered the room and how he was supposedly the “male incarnate” of myself. Anyone who knows me also knows that I am a bit of a “character.” My sense of humor is one of a warped and demented nature. The thought of finding anyone who doesn’t become annoyed instantly is a chore. Much less a man that shared the same. I completely discredited the email and went about my business.

Later that night, I found myself wandering the net. It was then I ran across a photo gallery that proved to be quite entertaining. As I clicked from one picture to the next, I ran across one gentleman’s photo. I was stunned by his presence. Approximately 10 minuets had gone by when I finally tore myself away from the photo and decided to venture into chat. There, I found the woman who had sent me the email earlier that week. She proceeded to tell me all about this man. “You just have to meet him,” she said, ranting on and on about how much alike we were. I laughed at her thinking it was amusing. “No, I am serious! You have got to talk to him.” I finally agreed that I would make effort to do so later on and left the chat quickly. Again, finding myself staring at this anonymous photo I had found earlier.

Approximately 4 hours later, I ventured back into the chat. Only to find a few friends talking about daily events. Then all of a sudden out of nowhere, a new name entered, rambling on and on about being the presentment of madness. I quickly spoke up and told the stranger that title had already been taken by myself as I laughed. He was silent for a few moments. It was then I received a “whisper” from him. “So you are the woman I have heard so very much about.” I replied by saying, “I see my reputation precedes me.” It was then I noticed his side bar photo (this particular room has a side bar option for those wishing to post photos of themselves). I almost fell from my chair when I realized I was talking to the man in the photo. The photo I had found earlier that day while surfing. After several hours in “whisper” mode, we opted to enter my personal chat room. We found one another to be interesting. Not to mention, we thoroughly enjoyed our conversation.

Since then, our relationship has grown tremendously. Even going so far as to admit our love to one another. We both agree this seems crazy. The sort of thing you read about in a book. It hardly seems real. Neither of us was looking when fate let us to one another. Neither of us was in need of love. Hell, neither of us believed in love, especially online love prior to our finding one another. We both want so badly to be together. To 1earn, to love, and to experience what this has to offer. It is simply amazing. So much for not seeking love, eh?

It was as if we had been two long lost lovers being reunited after a long trip. I think he put it best when he said… “Life is full of shit…lots of it. And there are many a time when you may feel stuck/bored and it seems that there’s nothing left to hold your interest or anything that doesn’t piss you off. Well, there is such a thing as true love. It’s there, it’s indescribable and few are blessed with it. We are one of lucky couples.”

Truly, the luckiest man and woman ever.

copy from others.

I sat on my  deck, enjoying the evening. Birds chirped and fluttered around the birdfeeder in the backyard. Finches clung to a bag of thistle hanging on a tree branch, only ten feet from me. They’d grown used to my presence and no longer flew away, when I stepped out for fresh air. I sat and watched them pull the thistle through the tiny openings in the fabric. Their feathers, red, purple and yellow, pleased my eye.

From a distant tree, I heard the song of a cardinal: purdy, purdy, purdy. The song changed. It was a starling. Next, it was a version of the robin’s evening song. A little later it was a song I couldn’t identify.

It was a mocking bird. For more than thirty minutes, he sang through his repertoire of songs. He was loud; his singing perfect. He didn’t have a song of his own. He mocked the songs of other birds, pieced them together, and created a concert for my enjoyment.

I was reminded of “American Idol,” a show my stepdaughter, Heather, has me addicted to. Hopeful singers competed against each other, singing the songs of others, judged by a panel of three, now four. The top contestants went to Hollywood, where they competed against others. Each week they were faced with new challenges. One-by-one they were eliminated until a winner was chosen.

A carpenter built a house. He used skills, learned as a young man, to construct a basic house. Over time, the carpenter learned more. He added his personal touch to his work. He took the basics he learned from those before him and made it a creation of his own.

The mocking bird, the winner of “American Idol,” and the carpenter have a common link. They took the ideas of others, copied and learned from them. They added to what they learned and created their own works of art.

We don’t have to be original. We start with the building blocks placed in our path by those before us. We have a choice: we can continue to copy, or we can add our own blocks for the next to follow and learn from.

I have to run. I think I hear my mocking bird outside. I want to hear what he has created for my enjoyment today.

Don’t go anywhere without your cloth bag so you can just say no to plastic whenever you shop.

Radical as it may seem, in today’s “the easier the better” society, the easiest way to reduce your carbon footprint is by avoiding driving altogether. Power down and Instead try biking, walking, carpooling, public transport or an occasional telecommute.

If you have no other choice than to drive to work, look for the most fuel- efficient car model for your next purchase and keep your tyres inflated to the correct pressure.

If you’re one of the lucky few blessed with clear stretches of road on your way to work, use cruise control, as it saves fuel and also helps you maintain a constant speed.

If you’re among the majority of drivers who spend their mornings stuck in traffic, consider turning your engine off if you will be idling for long periods of time. And plant a tree.

For those who suffer from road rage, remember that aggressive driving lowers your mileage, so if you want to save on fuel and save the planet while you’re at it, accelerate gradually– something to keep that in mind the next time that bad driver cuts you off! Just count to 10 and say the planet needs me!

Now in some places of our country, a number of people have been cutting down the trees in the forests because they need wood and more farmland. The areas of forests are getting smaller and smaller. Some scientists say that there will be no vast forests in 20 or 30 years. It is really a terrible thing. Where the forests disappear, dust storms will occur occasionally. The weather will get hot and dry. The whole earth will become a big desert. A lot of plants and animals will disappear.Crops will not grow anywhere. Life will be difficult for everyone. The human beings will be punished for their forest-destroying activities.
     Therefore, we should realize the importance of taking care of our forests. We should do our best to protect our living environment and keep our mountains green,the water clean, and the sky blue.

The World Wildlife Fund (WWF) defines biodiversity as “the wealth of life on Earth, the millions of plants, animals, and micro-organisms, the gens they contain and the intricate ecosystems they build into the living enviroment.” Rainforest are one of the most biologically diverse regions of the world. Over a millions species of plants and animals are known to live in the forests and millions more are not classified. The unique enviroment of the rainforest allows for such biodiversity to exist.

The process of deforestation in various geographical regions is destroying this unique enviroment. Consequently, many animals and plants that live in the rainforests face the specter of extinction. The extinction of the plants and animals leads to diminished gene pool. The lack of biodiversity and a reduced planetary gene pool could have many unforeseen ramifications, some of which could be fatal to the future of humanity. In addition, there are ethical, aesthetic and philosophical question regarding mankind’s responsibility for other life. This issue concerns more industrialized countries in the North more than it concerns lesser developed countries in the South. This is especially true in developing countries such as Brazil. I will elaborate on that later.

Another isssue that probably concerns the North more that the South is the advancement of humanity. As the planetary gene pool continues to diminish, there are less oppertunities for advancements in many fields. In particular, medicine may benefit from the cultivation of certain plants that grow only in rainforests. The medicines that come from them could cure cancer, AIDS, or other terminal deseases. Of course, that claim can easily be dismissed as speculative, given that there is little or no evidence to support it. However, it is too early to dismiss the possibility. Furthermore, if the rainforests are completely destroyed, the oppertunity to explore that possibility would be lost forever. The effect that would have on future generations is incalculable. Preserving the rainforest would leave many oppertunities in medicine and many other fields open for future generations to explore and further advance humanity.

There is at least on issue that would concern both North and South equally. That is preservation and is compatibility with forest use and management. Different people have different uses of rainforests. Indigenous people who live in the forests, as well as the non-indigenous people who live in the forests, the forest is their home, source of food, shelter, nourishment, recreation, culture, and livelihood. The forest provides the materials for thier homes, wood for their fires, the fish, the edible plants, and many more neccessities as well as amenities. Some of the non-indigenous people sell some of the forest resources for money. They do not exploit the forest because they sell commodities in limited numbers to preserve the forest resources for the future. This ensures that they can continue to make thier livelihoods by selling products from the forest.