I have concocted a meal called the "Buddha bowl" with spinach salad, quinoa, roasted chickpeas, grilled chicken, avocado, tomatoes, cucumbers, sesame seeds.
Up to you to provide a nice Chablis well chilled please.
_________________________________________________________
Monica's story
Just a thought March 2020
When I say to my husband I have been thinking or
just a thought, his reply is with good humour that sounds both
dangerous or expensive or both so which is it?
When we have theses thoughts either serious or
frivolous, we have no idea how hard our brains work to process these
thoughts, in seconds the brain is processing our thoughts and
selecting, a logical choice heart from head kind of situation, a person
must weigh the positives and the negative options the brain is
processing the positive and negative options each thought your mind and
brain are working so hard to consider each thought carefully .
Thought process's can cause disorder and
disturbance, remembering, reasoning the thought process problem solve
and try and judge the fear intuition and perception.
Thought processing is like a series of sparks
constantly firing other parts of our brain our brains light up to make
these process flow hence brain storming because it is like a storm in
our brains
The game of chess is so good for our brains slow time considering not only our moves but our opponents moves.
Thoughts cannot be directly observed but can only be
described by the person concern, not always easy for a Physicist or a
councillor trying to help people through traumatic thought process's
they are desperately trying to process his or her patient thoughts.
_________________________________
From Sarah
Just a thought 3 Lead Role
(05.03.2020, rev. 01.04.2020)
Just a thought. Not a nice one. But then she needn't follow up on it. Of course she wouldn't. She was not that sort of person.
It was just a passing idea with no intention behind it.
It was just a passing idea with no intention behind it.
Still, that Sybil really deserved a showing up. Somebody should do it.
But nobody would. Except herself, if she could really bring herself to it.
How could the others bear the girl's constant preening and self-satisfaction? All right, she was, probably, the best dancer in the class.
Probably. The teacher seemed to think she was the best, but she wasn't that good. She wasn't perfect.
But nobody would. Except herself, if she could really bring herself to it.
How could the others bear the girl's constant preening and self-satisfaction? All right, she was, probably, the best dancer in the class.
Probably. The teacher seemed to think she was the best, but she wasn't that good. She wasn't perfect.
“My arabesques are higher than hers, I'm sure of it!” she thought to herself. “My pas de chats are crisper. And my battements … !
And I've worked so hard. I really ought to have got the role. But Sybil fawns, and smiles at the judges, and bows so gracefully at the end.
Why she even fell down! And Madame even complimented her: 'Nobody falls so gracefully as you do.' Falls so gracefully!”
And I've worked so hard. I really ought to have got the role. But Sybil fawns, and smiles at the judges, and bows so gracefully at the end.
Why she even fell down! And Madame even complimented her: 'Nobody falls so gracefully as you do.' Falls so gracefully!”
There was an hour before the next lesson, or, more precisely, the dress rehearsal. An hour to kill.
She wandered around the dressing room, restless. Where were the others?
With nothing better to do she went out to the cleaner's cupboard, which was left unlocked, as usual.
The wax was in its place. It stood there, almost staring at her. She clacked the cupboard door shut. Such a mad idea.
She went back to the dressing room and poked about. Really, so strange that she should be the only one there.
As if it were planned for her.
She wandered around the dressing room, restless. Where were the others?
With nothing better to do she went out to the cleaner's cupboard, which was left unlocked, as usual.
The wax was in its place. It stood there, almost staring at her. She clacked the cupboard door shut. Such a mad idea.
She went back to the dressing room and poked about. Really, so strange that she should be the only one there.
As if it were planned for her.
Sybil's shoes were in her pigeon-hole. Nobody had a locker in this school, which was run just as it had been when Madame was a pupil here.
How very very easy it would be. Should she let this occasion pass?
Sybil would surely not notice anything different, she would be too concerned about getting her costume just right.
How very very easy it would be. Should she let this occasion pass?
Sybil would surely not notice anything different, she would be too concerned about getting her costume just right.
During the rehearsal, the most extraordinary thing happened.
On Sybil's first pirouette, her foot slid inexplicably out from under her and she lost her balance completely.
She did not fall gracefully, but banged down on the floor with a crack, and then lay still. When she did not get up, everything stopped.
On Sybil's first pirouette, her foot slid inexplicably out from under her and she lost her balance completely.
She did not fall gracefully, but banged down on the floor with a crack, and then lay still. When she did not get up, everything stopped.
“She's hit her head!” said her partner.
“Is it serious?” asked Madame, distraught.
It seemed as though it were. They had to call an ambulance and Sybil was taken away.
Although this would cause serious problems for tomorrow's performance, their teacher seemed mostly concerned about Sybil, and
seemed ready to drop everything and leave for the hospital.
Although this would cause serious problems for tomorrow's performance, their teacher seemed mostly concerned about Sybil, and
seemed ready to drop everything and leave for the hospital.
“Excuse me, Madame, but who's going to play Giselle then?”
“Giselle? Oh, tomorrow. I don't know! You can do it can't you?” And she was off.
She had the role! Triumph! The rehearsal was over, but she practised for the rest of the afternoon.
She would be better than Sybil could ever have been!
She would be better than Sybil could ever have been!
The next morning however, when she met the others, their faces were all cast down. Some of them were crying.
“What's the matter?”
Someone pointed to a photocopied message posted on the wall. The first words she read stopped her in her tracks.
“The performance cancelled! How can they!”
Another weeping dancer shook her head and pointed back to the little sign. Whatever was the matter with them?
She was disappointed too; in fact, she was enraged. But she wasn't going to cry over it. She was angry and she intended to protest.
She was disappointed too; in fact, she was enraged. But she wasn't going to cry over it. She was angry and she intended to protest.
“They can't do this! I've worked, I mean we've worked so hard! It's not as if we haven't got a lead!”
But the girls continued to point to the message. So she went back and peered at it more closely.
And when she had finished the first few lines, she began to feel cold all over.
And when she had finished the first few lines, she began to feel cold all over.
“Due to the untimely death of our dear pupil Sybil Dubois, the school will follow a period of mourning.
All performances ...”
All performances ...”
It couldn't be! Only a slip, a fall!
“During the night,” someone said. “She never woke up.”
She had never meant this. It was just a thought, or had been, at least to start with. Just a bad idea.
+ 710 wds ___________________________________________
Paula's contribution: Just a thought:
If Cinderella’s shoe fit perfectly, why did it fall off?
On a poison’s expiration date, does that mean it is more poisonous, or no longer poisonous?
If you get scared half to death twice, do you die?
Why are blueberries purple?
In the word “scent,” which letter is silent, the “s” or the “c”?
Why is something sent by car called a shipment, but something sent by ship is called cargo?
If it’s called quicksand, why do you sink slowly?
Why is a ‘W’ called a double-U? Shouldn’t it really be called a double-V?
The word “swims” upside down is also “swims.”
One hundred years ago, most people owned horses, and only the rich owned cars. Now, most people own cars, and only the rich own horses.
Replacing the “w” with a “t” in what, where and when gives you the answer.
What: that
Where: there
When: then
If you rip a hole in a net, there are actually fewer holes in it than before.
Why did kamikaze pilots wear helmets?
Why do we say, “slept like a baby,” when babies wake up every few hours?
Why is the word for “fear of long words” one of the longest words in the dictionary?
(It’s hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia.)
If something goes without saying, why do people still say it?
We pass the anniversary of our death every year without knowing it.
Why doesn’t glue stick to the inside of the bottle?
If a spoon is made of gold, would it still be called silverware?
Why does the word “ambiguous” have only one meaning?
How do vampires always look so perfectly groomed when they can’t see themselves in a mirror?
The word “wrong” is spelled w-r-o-n-g in the dictionary.
The only time the word “incorrectly” isn’t spelled incorrectly, is when it’s spelled incorrectly.
Why is “bra” singular, but “panties” is plural?
Why are there so few synonyms for “thesaurus?”
Why can I remember song lyrics from the ’80s, but I can’t remember why I walked upstairs?
Why is it penny for your thoughts, but you have to put your two cents in?
Why isn’t a near-miss called a near-hit?
Remember, if Plan A fails, you have 25 letters left.
___________________________________________________
From Geraldine
It sounds better when read « alta
voce »
JUST A THOUGHT
Just a thought
So, what if the Antarctic was to melt….
Just a thought
What if the oceans were to flood more and more…
Just a thought
And how come the winds would blow stronger and stronger…
Just a thought
And when will the floods reach the big towns on the
sea-shore ?
Just a thought
When will the men and women on this earth come back to
nature ?
Just a thought
What if they got help from a tiny wyne virus
Just a thought
And what if this little virus decided to go on a
round-trip around the world…
Just a though
Would it frighten all these people living on this
beautiful planet ?
Just a thought
Would they think twice about wasting, polluting and
destroying their lovely and lonely Planet ?
Just a thought
And if this incredible little virus opened people’s eyes
to the future, the Planet’s future, their own future, considering we are all
part of it all !
Just a thought
Or a dream !!!
_______________________________________________
Jackie's post:
Wait a minute ladies,
You want me to talk about “a thought” talk about ” just a thought” well
Now hang on there, this is a far fetched impossiblity
Can’t you see I’m busy
We’re in the middle of a crisis here
A total lockdown on our movements – confined in our homes,
apartments and rooms without balconies
with only our heads, hearts and souls
to preoccupy our virus prone selves.
Do you really think I have time for a thought?
Just a thought? most certainly
not, I’ve never been busier.
My day is full, all
stops pulled out, from the time I get up
at 7 am till I slip exhausted into the arms of Morpheus at 11pm
My name is not “The
Thinker” the statue by Auguste Rodin –
who has all the time in the world to sit on his stone pillar with arm on knee thinking, pondering, reflecting , meditating
and contemplating the tourists wandering
around the charming garden of a Paris museum.
I’m busy doing what
people do in a lockdown stuck in a rural country village . Making bread, pizzas and cakes, checking the
wine stock, preparing aperitifs, drinking
bubbly, cooking dinner, visiting the virtual world on my computer, travelling
in essence to far off countries I’ll never physically visit, listening to Operas,
concerts and visiting museums. And
watching Netflix!
Chatting with neighbours through the window of my workshop
downstairs, (keeping of course the
reglementary spit free 2 meter distance) Reading the newspapers, sending videos,
talking on the phone…… all this takes time
–
Then there is the garden.
A patch of land has
never been so weed free –
I now apply tweezers to grab that sun seeking little blade
that dares poke his head above the soil I have so carefully primed.
I gave up having “just a thought” years ago as when I did
have one, if not written down, it
disappeared as quickly as it had appeared lost forever along with the millions of others spiraling
into oblivion churning like my washing machine
round and round my aging brain.
Thoughts don’t stay – a second or more or an eighth or
whatever is the smallest piece of time there is. And there it is – that thought – gone then
… for ever. Or perhaps not forever as
they creep back into my head slowly or like a flash when you are not expecting
them and then you suddenly remember that image, or list, appointment or that something that had to be fetched,
cooked or washed.
Just a thought then, is a timeless piece of uselessness -
______________________________________________________
Annemarie's post
What Do You Think?
Next weekend would be their eleventh wedding anniversary and Peter had hinted at a surprise
weekend. It was already arranged that the three children were spending the first week of the
holidays with her parents, happily exploring the hills and woods around the old farm nestled in the
Devon countryside but he failed to realise that she enjoyed time spent with the children during
their holidays. Her husband brushed aside her reservations, telling her she really needed to get
the kids ready and packed.
After a brisk shower she prepared muesli - Peter said it was important the children had
homemade muesli - not all those rubbish cereals encrusted with sugar - freshly squeezed orange
juice (after all 'we don't hyper children, do we ,darling?'. She watched them lovingly as they
spooned their way through breakfast, little Joshua's corn-coloured curls bobbing up and down as
his chubby three-year old hands struggled to balance the rather large spoon. Of course she
would miss them but she had a lot to do before taking them to her parents.
First it was a visit to the hairdresser - 'Joshua can't go around looking like a girl, it's about time he
had a proper haircut,' Peter had said yesterday. 'And why don't you get the girls some smart
shoes? They seem to wear those awful trainers all the time wherever they go. You could treat
yourself to a new coat as well - something blue and classy like Jeffrey Highberg's wife and treat
yourself to something special for the dinner. You could wear it to the restaurant on Wednesday
when I meet up with the Highbergs and the top man from head office. I really need to impress
them if I am to get this directorship.
Valerie thought about the expensive dresses in her wardrobe bought to impress at various
dinners, the extravagant necklaces Peter gave her at Christmas - precious shimmering pearls set
in platinum, the exquisitely Italian designed gold choker with matching earrings, always chosen by
Peter. With a sigh she cleaned the kitchen, bundled the three children in the car, decided against
curl-cutting at the hairdresser's and shoe-shopping for the girls and set off to her parents, where
she spent a leisurely hour chatting with her mother and admiring the tree house her father was
building for the grandchildren. A call from Peter to see how the shopping was going with a gentle
reminder to find something sophisticated to show off his lovely wife.
She really didn’t feel like trailing round the shops, trying on dresses and coats and later in the
week she would have to have her facial, have her nails done and go to the hairdresser - Peter
liked her to take pride in her appearance. Oh, how she would like to put some old clothes and
spend time in the garden, how she would like to spend time with old friends - friends she rarely
saw, friends “who weren't quite the right sort” as far as Peter was concerned.
Now that Peter was expecting to get the directorship he was planning on sending the children to
private schools as boarders - “to get a fine education and meet the right people”. Valerie could
not bear to think of her children away from home. This time she was determined to stand up to
Peter; he always succeeded in getting his own way and she felt increasingly submerged in her
husband's excessive ambition. Well she would spend the day in London do her shopping and she
might even meet an old friend or saunter round a gallery.
The morning of the dinner Peter phoned her to say he had an important meeting so he would
meet her at the London restaurant. Well she had all day to get ready ; a facial, manicure and then
the hairdresser - a different style tonight she thought.
When she arrived home she put on her favourite Nina Simone record, poured a deep bath of
foaming bubbles and with a glass of white wine relaxed in the suds. An hour later the doorbell
rang and Valerie put on her new blue coat , picked up her bag and left for the restaurant in the
taxi.
Outside the restaurant she could see Peter sitting at the table with, presumably, the top man from
head office. She waited until the Highbergs arrived and followed behind them as the waiter led
them to their table. table. Peter rose from his seat, greeted the Highbergs and turning to his wife
and with a shocked look on his face he stuttered, “V-Valerie, let me take your coat.” She carefully
removed the new coat and Peter gaped in astonishment - a semi-transparent, coral, lace dress,
low-cut and slashed almost to the waist, revealing a generous décolletage and bear arms
encircled with jangling bracelets. A gold leather belt cinched her waist. The dress was tight and
stopped a good 5 inches above her knees. His eyes continued to travel down her legs to the gold
six-inch heel shoes, leather straps encircling her ankles, finishing in an extravagant bow. His eyes
were drawn back up the length of her, took in the scarlet lipstick, the heavily made-up eyes with
extraordinary false eyelashes, her now unfamiliar face surrounded in a cloud of blond curls. Mouth
wide open he continued to gape at her. Victoria smiled at the Highbergs and the top man from
head office, turned to Peter and still smiling she said quietly, “Darling, what do you think?”
