Every now and then you hear a word that sounds just like something you’re familiar with, but then you realize it’s not what you originally thought of… One recent example arose when I was listening to the radio (for Super-Techies, that’s an antique box that sits on a shelf and transmits words and music from a speaker). I thought I had heard the word “Rastafarian”, the term for members of an Abrahamic belief which developed in Jamaica in the 1930s. But no, what I heard was actually “Pastafarian”, a parody of organized religion which started with a letter from an Oregon State University physics grad to the Kansas board of education protesting the teaching of intelligent design as an alternative to evolution.
The author suggested that the universe was actually created by an invisible and undetectable Flying Spaghetti Monster (FSM). Another of his arguments (supported by bar graphs) is that global warming is the direct effect of a reduction in the number of pirates sailing the Seven Seas. Pastafarianism/FSMism has now been recognized as a religion in Poland, The Netherlands and New Zealand (Sheree, you had better keep an eye on those folks), and a woman in Massachusetts even had her driver’s license photo taken with her religious headgear in place… My Lovely Bride is shown here cooking pasta while wearing the particular headgear adopted by Pastafarians. (No, she is not going off the deep end, just modeling!)
Okay, shifting gears… we haven’t had much rain recently here in Central Florida, but one day there were enough raindrops on our lanai screens to use my macro lens to get a real close-up of a drop of water, with the inverted image of our hedge residing inside. It’s almost like there’s a tiny world hidden in that raindrop… who knows, maybe there’s another level of reality there?
Continuing on more serious spiritual topics, Suzanne presented her Your Emerging Soul workshop twice in the past two weeks, and each was S.R.O. and received extremely well by participants. She will be presenting this workshop again as part of her Unity Village Retreat 24-26 June in Lee’s Summit, Missouri (outside Kansas City). See her web site www.suzannegiesemann.com for more information.
Attendees for the Y.E.S. workshop traveled from far and wide; Irene Vouvalides and three friends drove down from Hilton Head, and several others flew in from Dallas, Connecticut, St. Louis and Pennsylvania.
The weather here in Central Florida has been spectacular, with warm, dry, sunny days and cool nights. Our Pack has gotten out for several forest hikes; here we see My Lovely Bride with our sweet little Gretchen (AKA Ten Pounds of Fighting Fury) riding in her backpack. It is always funny when we pass other hikers and then point out our Dachshunds riding comfortably on our backs.
This particular hike was near Inverness, FL, on the Citrus Loop in Withlacoochee State Forest’s Citrus Wildlife Management Area (49,000 acres). I have backpacked here in previous years, and we found one tiny campsite that a thoughtful, friendly person had marked with a colorful wind wheel and a Welcome sign. Rudy (seen here in my backpack) wanted to spend the night (there were squirrels galore in these oak trees), but we hadn’t brought tents and sleeping bags on this dayhike.
Those of you who may be wearing one of Suzanne’s beautiful coin pendants (which she designed, by the way) may wonder if she uses overseas labor to make them. This photo taken of her sweatshop workers proves that there is no overseas or child labor involved, but I can vouch that they don’t get union-mandated breaks, either. (Many thanks to Ruthie, Jan and Bob!)
Finally, I have to mention that one of the attendees at Suzanne’s Y.E.S. workshop recognized the contributions that “That One’s” long-suffering husband makes. Her comment, “Suzanne, I want to tell you that Ty is a saint… maybe we should call him Saint Ty!” I can’t understand why, but many attendees laughed at this pronouncement. I saw the truth, if not the humor, in her obviously accurate comment. I explained all this to my spiritual adviser and guru after we got home, but all he had to say was “Ommm…”