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I could only get the shorten version of the song on this site, however I would encourage anyone to go listen to the full version.

The little things you do that make me smile,
Make my life worth while.
Your laugh changes even my most foul mood,
Allowing me to see the surrounding joy.
Your touch upon my skin
brings a calmness I do not know.
Don't be surprised
If you find me in awe of you

So will you be mine,
If for just a little while.
Will you take my hand
And hold my heart close to yours.
Will you make me smile,
If for only memories sake.
Will you let me in
And make this life real.
If for just a little while,
If for just memories sake.

---

My heart is like a used roadmap with paths of where it has
been
There are bumps and cracks upon it, places, people I knew way back when,

It has mountains so high, I do not know how I traveled over them
And rivers of tears so deep I would have drowned if I did not swim

There are pastures of hope and happiness there
But a part of it is barren and bare

Some of it has fences around it, saving me from hurt again
Yet part of it is a cherished garden where I visit now and then

The ones I have loved and visited and hold onto still
Remain in and treasured, safe guarded by my strong will

This roadmap of my heart has taught me lessons along the way
And tomorrow there will be a new path,
as it will be a brand new day

 

Many of you know over the last year I have taken on a new
job.  Since I began this career change, I
have seen many things, met many new people and had new experiences that have
awakened my mind, body and soul.

Yesterday I returned from Phoenix Az., I was there to kick
off a new project that will be funded grant money.  This vision was not my vision.  However, after seeing the virtuous
possibilities, embracing the worthiness of this mission, I guess yes, I have
taken it to heart. 

There is a gentleman in Phoenix Az. who for the past 15
years has dedicated his life to supplying housing and assistance to mentally
and physically handicapped homeless individuals.  Many of these folks have become such by the
abuse of drugs, meth, crack, cocaine, etc. 
He works in unison with the police and government agencies.

His dream is to house these homeless individuals across the
United States in safe, sustainable, energy and water efficient properties.  My organization, the Green Mechanical
Council, will be supporting him and his vision with education, green
contractors, technicians, and product knowledge.

I am very excited about this challenge, and this week “Our Unheard
Voices” project was launched in Phoenix AZ. We began with our first Green
Awareness Training and now we are tackling the project of green-habbing and
renovating our first homes.  We will be
continuing this project over 47 states, we will becoming your way.  If anyone is interested in more details,
please feel free to email me at jkeirns@greenmech.org. 

---

Softly she whispers

Her desire so real

Like a caress it passes
Touches...Your
form to feel

On the
gentlest breeze
Her
voice carries with the wind
Across
the vastness of oceans
Her
spirit shall never bend

For
true love has come forth
To
linger and live on
With
the whispered breath of her love
You
can hear her sing-song

Listen...

It
sounds out
Soft
as a caress
On
cheeks of warmth

Upon
her lovers breath..

Grasp,
if you can

Hold
on with all you possess
Never
let linger
Your
one true regret

For
with love she does send
With
love it does fly
With
love she surrenders
Her
truth till she dies

Listen..
  

Softly she whispers

Her desire so real

Like a caress it passes

For her
lover to feel..

---

 

 

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John William Waterhouse is another one of my favorite artist.

In our lifetimes
is there only one special person for each of us

Or do we perhaps search to find the part of us that is missing
like a jigsaw puzzle, the part that will complete us and make us
whole.

 

The piece that
will make everything seem right and make
sense.

Each friend and person woven into our lives gives us
a little something that we need.

They add to our tapestry, some with coloured threads, others
with threads of gold and silver.

But each one contributes something special, enhancing our lives as we
know it.

 

Often I think we
search for things that are on the surface
only when instead what we need are the qualities that are hidden,

the intimacy of
emotions,
sensuality,

compassion,

true communication
and caring.

To feel, to sense, to touch, to
listen, to hear,

these are the
elusive qualities we need and often search for in others,

so 'no' I don't
think that there is just one person out there for each of us,

I think that as we
travel through life,

there will be many
who touch our hearts,
our souls, and forever will be remembered,

even if they do not remain with us.

So love when you know it is right for you,

and you will be the one that grows and blossoms.

May today bring magick, love and happiness to your life!

Therefore, what did I do the rest of the weekend you may be
asking, no I did not spend it eating chocolate, while sitting in a tub. 

The NFL Player Selection Meeting, better known as the
NFL Draft,
held annually in April, took place this weekend.  This is when the National Football League teams select
newly eligible players (primarily from college
football) for their rosters.  I
watched yesterday, in between work, tub, and handfuls of chocolate.  Today again I listen and learn as I scrutinized
the choices, reactions of coaches, managers, players and fans.  Then my son and daughter-in-law pulled me out
to watch with them.

To me it is an interesting process, I always love to watch
as something is built, designed, constructed. 
Whether it is a building, a doctrine, or even a football team and of
course I am always, asking why…why would they pick this guy over that guy, why
hold this in April, why have it in New York City?  The answers for many of these questions you
can find online through Wikipedia
or ESPN. 

For many of us we can easily understand the true importance
of the draft.  Memories as kids, standing
in that open field on a Saturday or Sunday, cool fall afternoon. Leaves changing
colors as we ourselves had change, grew, or developed over the all too short summer
season. The school year just starting, supplies purchased, lockers
assigned.  Many on that field were the
ones that either did not make, or did not want to make the school football
team.  Perhaps, like me, you happened to
be sanctioned in under an older family member, automatically given a certain
statue, recognition, fame.  My brother
Richard, 5 years older, but I had played with him for years, new his every move
and could catch any ball he ever threw. 

As you wait there in that open playing field, sporting your
lucky shoes, favorite jersey or hat, your mind envisions an arena, where the
childhood memories of fame and glory are forever embedded.  You start hoping that enough of your friends
show up.  The suspense swells as you
begin to wonder, can they sneak away from family functions or chores?  Did we get the word out to everyone? Who is
grounded for doing stupid stuff?  Are the
important ones going to show, the ones that provide the grit, the guts, the determination
to ensure a winning season for your neighborhood football team.

Once everyone had congregated, the assemblage begins their
ritual.  Either the voted Captains, by
flip of a coin or ini mini miny mo, determines who gets to pick first.  For the NFL Draft that order is based
generally on each team's regular season record, with the exception of the two
Super Bowl contestants, who are placed at the end of the draft order.

In this, instant hope and fear are rolled into one.  This process is akin to the day God created
Adam out of the simple clay of earth.  It
marks the beginning of new life, and, with it, new hope for the coming season.  You gaze focused on the horizon, on what may
be, as we envision into what kind of ballplayer these draft picks might evolve.  Yet every draft pick is a winner, so hope
dominates.

Looking back on this process now, as a parent you always
hope that child grows and develops into a fine person and makes a positive
impact on society. Much in the same manner, one hopes the drafted players grows,
develops, and make a positive impact on the team. Sometimes expectations are
too high and we are disappointed, but we all know it takes time and effort on
everyone's part to succeed on the field, as well as in life, and this too is
learned on that childhood turf.

Who you picked, who you assimilate into your neighborhood
football team made all the difference between a losing or winning season,
provided everyone stayed healthy. 

So on NFL Draft Weekend, we all hope with every pick
(especially first rounder’s) that they will get "the guy" who will be
the difference maker. There is also a lot of interest in discussing the logic
behind the picks, especially when there are so many areas of need for some
teams. Why this guy? Why that position?

So why do so many of us find this weekend so important?  Simple…we love the sport, and we want our team to be the best,  which reminds me of
joke:

An inveterate golfer goes into the clubhouse after a
terrible, frustrating round. He is so angry that he breaks all of his clubs in
half and slashes his wrists. Just then, someone enters the clubhouse and yells
out, "We need a fourth!" The dying golfer puts his wrists together,
runs to the front of the clubhouse and asks, "What time?"

Oh and why hold the NFL Draft in April?

By draft day, it has been three to four long months since we
have seen our favorite team; this is time enough to heal the wounds from last
season and to start dreaming about the next one.

Why in New York City, I guess because they can!  They have been holding this event at Radio
City Music Hall since 2006.  So enjoy the
draft and may your team get some great picks!

Go Pack!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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am I the only one that sees this ride as being a bad design?

Donald looks like he is having way to much fun!!!!!!!

I was suppose to drive to Chicago to visit one of Angie's friends this weekend, but his wife, or kids, or both got sick and sense I was going to be staying with the fam...yeah I kind of declined.

So I actually ended up having a wonderful day!

And bought some of this....

So I worked, wrote a story....

And talked over business plans with someone...

And relaxed in the tub...

It turned out to be a wonderful rainy Wisconsin Day!

Now a poem for you...

I think I will eat chocolate, it is sweet
and satisfying

It gives me a great feeling, as it is

so very gratifying,

Chocolate will always be there,

When sometimes love doesn't care

So give me chocolate darling, if you dare

And then all will be very fair

So........

And this for Donkey Guy

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---

This evening while relaxing on my deck, I noticed that my
robins are back this year.  For those of
you who are not familiar with my robins, they arrive every year, reuse the nest
and allow me to watch as they raise their babies until they fly away in the
fall.  I put the old slide show at the top to refresh your memories and I look forward to getting new pictures this summer.

Thinking about them reminded me of a fable my Dad use to
tell me about the way the birds got their wings.  I hope I can tell it as he did.

First, the birds were created without wings.  Then our Creator made the wings, put them
down before the wingless birds, and said to them, “Come, take up these burdens
and bear them.”

The birds had lovely plumage and sweet voices; the could
sing, and their feathers gleamed in the sunshine, but they could not soar in
the air.  They hesitated at first at
first when bidden to take up the burdens that lay at their feet, but soon they
obeyed, and taking up the wings in their beaks, laid them on their shoulders to
carry them.

For a little while, the load seemed heavy and hard to bear,
but presently, as they went on carrying the burdens; folding them over their
hearts, the wings grew fast to their little bodies, and soon they discovered
how to use them, and were lifted by them up into the air. The encumbered weights
became wings.

The fable is a parable. 
We are the wingless birds, our duties and tasks are the pinions our
Creator has made to lift us up and carry us heavenward.  We look at our burdens and heavy loads and
shrink from them; but as we lift them and bind them about our hearts, they
become wings; and on them we rise and soar.

---

 

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Pictures are from when we burnt the barn a few years back, it was too far gone to save any of it.  We did save all the wood and stones from one of the other barns and used those in some of the buildings, cabins, etc.

No poetry, romantic lines or whimsical words…just me
rambling.  I realize that I rarely share
about myself…but that is changing.

 

Over the past 2 months, I have had to face many different
changes, truths, sorrows and blissful happiness in my life.  Because
of these experiences, I begin to reflect upon a time in my life with mixed
emotions and a word I had not thought of in years, “flashpoint”.

Flashpoint, in firefighter’s lingo, the flash point is the
temperature at which everything combustible in a room spontaneously bursts into
flame, spreading the fire instantly.  If
we apply this principle to our lives, flashpoints are those moments when a
single event sparks a change that transforms our life forever. 

I thought about this last night while counseling a friend,
the spark that changed my life drastically, my divorce, no doubt it was when
everything burst into flames, all my hopes, dreams, love and life as I knew it
changed.  It was actually a spark many
years before that that ignited the flame. 
Flashpoint was when the decision was made; no turning back, all that I
knew it went up in flames.    You see a flashpoint occurs when you are
compelled to make a change, or make a difference, no matter what the cost.  However, that flashpoint that was born of grief
has now brought love and hope back into my life.  Actually was a blessing in many ways.

I had often looked at the word “flashpoint” in a negative connotation.  Fire burns and destroys everything in its
path.  Any firefighter will tell you that
fire is unpredictable.  Under the right circumstances,
even a small fire can pose a great danger. 
If a blasé reaches the flashpoint, every bit of combustible material in
the room, wood, paper, carpet, drapes, furniture, and appliances will burst
into flames.  With all that destruction,
it would have to be negative.  Now
however I am looking at this in a different light.  Another flashpoint in my life – Cancer.

“Flashpoint” for me in this moment is that quiet desire,
fueled by my determination and motivation, a spiritual flashpoint fills my mind
and heart with dazzling ideas, passions, and a beautiful love that alone sets me on fire.  These things are so strong they cannot
be ignored.  I want to capture the energy
from my flashpoint to pursue my destiny and dreams; with these, I believe that
I can help to change the world for good. A flash point of the mind, heart and
soul can set the world on fire. The fire of passion can change a life, and one
passionate life can surely change the world.

I admit I have made some mistakes in my life, but I have
learned that it is never too late to change and find the life you desire and deserve.  When you surrender your hopelessness, and
grasp onto new opportunities, you will discover a new way to live, awaken your
dormant talents, and inspire others by your shining example. 

So tonight, I encourage you to look at your life, what is
life if not merely an investment of time? 
If you my friend are not spending your days and hours in a way that satisfies
and thrills your mind, heart and soul, it is time for some internal combustion.
 Let your dreams, desires and passions
build to a flashpoint and set your soul on fire.  Decide right now to live differently to
ignite your soul with passion.  I do not
know what each one of you is facing in life, but I do know that you can come to
a flashpoint and make a decision to make a better life.  Dreamers can be found in every bed, but the
adventures are those who wake up and refuse to leave their dreams behind.  The time for your flashpoint is now!

---

---

Lost,

Wandering;

I’ve sought his redeeming grace,

As an image

To guide my heart.

I first caught sight of him,

watching me through a doe’s deep brown eyes

Since then, I have heard his whispering in the wind

And through a dove’s mourning songs;

Images of love speaking to my heart.

I’ve felt his warmth shining down on me through the golden rays of the sun.

And known his presence underneath the shade of a tree.

I have seen his reflections mirrored in loved ones around me

And heard his lyrics through their songs;

Images of love singing to my heart.

Now, he beckons to me

Inside of my dreams,

As a muse guiding me,

An image of love trapped inside my heart.

Awakening at dawn,

I know it is his voice which animates this poem

Flowing through my soul.

It is his sighs and passionate cries that move me to sing this song;

This love locked inside my heart

Seeking oneness

He sings,

‘Take this key,

Unlock the door,

And allow me to be a melody

Flowing from heart to heart’

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