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Showing posts from November, 2016

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10 Essential Tips to Find That Perfect Corporate Gift

Your regarded customers, steadfast clients and stunning representatives are your most significant resource. The correct blessing picked with care and consideration will fortify connections, regardless of whether to remunerate accomplishment or commend achievement. Why settle for a conventional blessing when you can dazzle with the phenomenal?

I have assembled the fundamental tips to locate that corporate blessing.

Simply read on

1) Must Always Select A Quality Gift

As a matter of first importance, you should choose a blessing that you would be glad to put your organization name on. Your client and customers are destined to accept your blessing as an impression of how you view and worth relationship with them.

On the off chance that your initial introduction taking a gander at the blessing, is floating towards it being modest or normally accessible stuff, odds are that they will see precisely the same way.

2) Always and Always Check Corporate Policies

In all honesty, numerous associat…

"Always" Challenges

Every Thought Is A Prayer

Week 47: Thanksgiving

Paul gave to the Thessalonians, and to us all, three “always” challenges:  Rejoice always. Pray ceaselessly.  And be thankful in every circumstance.  Joyfully, prayerfully and thankfully, today.

Turning Positive Lately I am looking west at sunrise Watching the autumn colors change from gray To vivid blue and gold, seeing the day Awakened from the opposite horizon. Where the rising sun once had a way Of drawing me toward its eastern skies To see the morning spark before my eyes I am compelled to look the other way now, To find the russet brown of the tall grass prairies, The richest yellows reds and remnant greens Of mid October trees, the oaken black And birch white of the wood as the season changes, As the azure sky reflects a breezeless pond With the warmth of an autumn sun upon my back.

Brooding Barn
The brooding barn was an old hen perched On a tilting nest at a hillside farm. Her eggs were lifelong memories, To the very end kept safe and war…

Arsenic and All Grace

A short story by Marilyn Jaeger

Now how does that just happen, anyway? We had not been to a stage play for ages.
In late 2014, my longtime friend Paula invited us to a play at a church in Madison. Her son Rick, a Park Ridge classmate of my son Dan, was playing the dastardly nephew Jonathan in “Arsenic and Old Lace”, Joseph Kesselring’s 1941 play about two sweet old ladies who managed to kill twelve men and bury them in their Brooklyn cellar.
       “How in the world could you do that,” their nephew Mortimer asks.
       “Abby: You know your Aunt Martha’s knack for mixing things. You’ve eaten enough of her                              piccalilli.          Martha: Well, dear, for a gallon of elderberry wine I take one teaspoonful of arsenic, then add a                      half teaspoonful of strychnine and then just a pinch of cyanide.          Mortimer: (Appraisingly) Should have quite a kick.          Abby: Yes! As a matter of fact one of our gentlemen found …

Tending to Testudines

No reminding—been awhile since I saw them turtles smile. Guess it’s time to clean the tank, reckon with the file and rank, whistle harmless harmony, lure a listen from their lee: Walker Percy’s carapace Mitch McConnell’s Franklin face Steinbeck’s epic chapter three (rapture’s wrath for you and me traipsing ’long the thorough-fares of ‘who are you? hell, who cares’)… Just get on with tasks at hand, governing the shiftless land, amphibious in the end, fluid wisdom from a friend or thoughtless threats from beyond: who knows what could bind or bond.

Breaking the Silence

A remarkable thing happened the other day, this in a year full of remarkable things, prompting me now to put it all in perspective.  That's what we will do at Thanksgiving and on Christmas Day and on New Year's Eve but why not at the end of Election Week as well?The most remarkable things about this year will be, as it is for any  given time, about beginnings, ends and continuity.   All that matters is what truly changes or truly remains. The loss of a brother and the endurance of memories. And old barn wedding.  A New York engagement. All that doctors can and cannot do.  All that prayer does.On the morning of Tuesday November 8th, before the polls opened, I sent my newly betrothed a text of what mattered most to me: health, family, time together and God in our lives.  Think about it, and apply that to everything momentous.  Six days before the Chicago Cubs had secured a World Series victory.  The end of a long drought, for sure; the beginning of a dynasty, perhaps.  But what …

I Have Heard The Key

Every Thought...

Week 46: Responding To The Muses

On a cold November morning in the middle of Indiana, hours from home with my kids half awake in the car, before dawn broke the dark, thousands of ancient muses passed overhead and took to the fields.


TWL, Lines 411-417: Thunder To The Demons

412Dayadhvam: I have heard the key
413Turn in the door once and turn once only
414We think of the key, each in his prison
415Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison
416Only at nightfall, aethereal rumours
417Revive for a moment a broken Coriolanus

412. THE PRISON KEY: Eliot: “Cf. Inferno, XXXIII, 46: ‘ed io sentii chiavar l'uscio di sotto all'orribile torre.’ Also F. H. Bradley, Appearance and Reality, p. 346. ‘My external sensations are no less private to myself than are my thoughts or my feelings. In either case my experience falls within my own circle, a circle closed on the outside; and, with all its elements alike, every sphere is opaque to the others which surround it... In brie…

Familar Strangers

Before I was born (as Cubs often say), ‘The Friendly Confines’ became currency: Jack Brickhouse ordained it one sunny day, musing for all who breathe in the ivy,
planted before World War II by Bill Veeck, peg-legged thereafter in grooming more fields, Cleveland’s with Paige and Comiskey’s high tech, personal promos beyond turnstyle yields.
I met him, mid-80’s, a bleacher bum, and asked how and why he’d left the south side: at Wrigley, you march to a different drum, and hardly expect a turn of the tide.

He mumbled an answer, eyes on the game, your home beyond home is baseball’s best gift, as rosters change and you learn each new name, you open your doors and welcome the shift,
‘Hey! José Cardenal—now you’re a Cub!’ and then you’re a Phillie—like Dallas Green, honestly steering this promising club, home to our hopes, if you know what I mean.
True, baseball guru, beyond our great year; I’ll count on each inning, hit, run and out, from bleachers to box scores to ice-cold beer, in heaven with friends who gather …

Every Day Is A Gift

Every Thought...

Week 45: Marathon

I’m taking time off this week for a morning run, if the Moleskin rivers can wait and the Waste Land elements will allow. God willing and the creek don’t rise, I’ll see you on the other side.


Marathon: Saying The Word

Goal: Marathon!  Not yet set: the goals within the goal, those to be measured by calendar and stopwatch and map.  These will be left for the days ahead.  They will br noted on these pages from time to time, as they occur to me, but I want this journal to mark the course of that larger more singular project.  Indeed, in these first pages let me put aside the history that got me here, my present position, the odds I might give myself.  I will worry about these asides tomorrow, even as I set and tweak those other calibrators, but for today...

Let me just chew on that word for a moment: Marathon...  Mmmm! The epitomal run.  A distance to brag about, the messenger’s challenge, the body’s approachable limits.  A number for the bumper, a medal…