Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

The newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness around the world.

July 9, 2007

Today’s Stories

~**~**~

THERE IS NO PLACE LIKE HOME, THERE IS…

By David Wainland

A few weeks ago, on a Friday, my wife, Jamie left for New York and a brief business trip. She planned to stay until the following Thursday. This freed me up for a quick visit to friends near Daytona Beach. They live in a subdivision about twenty minutes south of the city and a three-hour drive from our home in Boca Raton.

I was anxious to get away for a weekend, but decided to couple the vacation with a brief stop in Orlando, about two hours out off my way, to drop off some merchandise to a customer of Jamie’s.

First, I had to take my wife to the Fort Lauderdale airport, forty minutes south and then retrace my drive, back past Boca and then north. Overall, with a stop for lunch, the bit of business in Orlando and some heavy traffic heading northeast on US Route 4, I spent about six hours on the road.

I arrived at their home somewhere around six that evening, just in time for them to usher me out to dinner. They took me to their community clubhouse, put a drink in my hand and passed me around to their friends and acquaintances like some unique toy.

After the meal, we returned to their home and I thought some rest. I collapsed onto a couch and my friend Marty cleared his throat.

“Ahem, David...” their was a significant pause, “I hate to ask you this, but we are having some friends for dinner Sunday and we you know that you are a good cook and because we have bragged about you we wondered if you would prepare the meal.”

I am a guest and a friend so how could I refuse.

The next day we drove to Publix, the neighborhood market and spent about two hours shopping. They requested a Chinese meal and this required specific ingredients, foods and seasoning that they did not have.

After shopping, we returned to the house, unpacked and cleaned some of the vegetables.  I was about to take a well-deserved nap when Lynda, his wife asked me for some help with their only computer, an older and almost obsolete unit.

“Marty keeps messing up his email and I wondered if you can help.” Since they do not have a wireless router making my laptop useless, I agreed, at least if I got it running I would be able to take advantage.

Fortunately, most of the computer problems were from, “Fat fingers,” hitting the wrong keys and, “Riding the mouse.” After about an hour, the computer was up and running and Marty had a new Yahoo email program.

I finished and we went for a late lunch on the beach in Daytona. We drove about an hour to a unique beach restaurant and bar. They like to eat at the bar and not at tables, I had two beers and a wonderful blackened fish sandwich and then we headed home.

Back at the house, I prepared the foods for tomorrow’s meal. My menu included marinating a pork roast and chicken wings. Steaming chicken shumai, (a dumpling made with assorted Asian vegetables, rice and ground chicken, rice for frying the next day, and chopping additional veggies for a stir-fry.

Sunday we slept late and after a bagel breakfast, Marty and I took another drive into Daytona for a visit to Best Buy. Lynda’s phone was broken and a new charger. The phone was also obsolete and no chargers available.

Back we went and at their request, I fiddled unsuccessfully with the old charger for about an hour and then I began the final preparations for dinner.

Chinese cooking while simple enough to do requires a lot of prep work, including the final touches to the fried rice, bits of pork, scallions, scrambled egg etc. I baked the wings and pork then finished them on the grill.  We served the grilled meats with two home made types of Duk sauce, spicy and plum. The final presentation was the pork atop a stir-fry and the wings over saut?ed bean sprouts. The rice arrived in a large bowl and the steamed dumplings on a bed of bok choy.

The meal was great if I do say so myself, but later, after the friends were gone Lynda approached me again. Marty had undone everything I corrected on the computer.

It was very late when I finally got to sleep.

Morning did not come quick enough. I was almost out the door when she handed me a broken draw pull, and asked if I could fix it. I could not.

All of the above for two beers and a fish sandwich. 

After a three-hour drive, I entered my own home.

These are good friends and I would do it all again if asked, but…

How sweet an empty house can be.

Email david@davidwainland.com

Blog  http://360.yahoo.com/davidwainland

If you like this story, tell your friends. If you don’t tell me.

~**~**~

 What is Malta?

Tanja Cilia 

Malta is not just sun, sea and sand.  It is history and culture, a unique Navel of the World where one finds both the oldest free-standing monuments on the planet, but also the newest, sharpest, arts and culture. In between these two extremes lies the rich heritage we have inherited and made ours throughout the centuries. 

Malta has been inhabited since around 5200 BC, when the Neolithic  culture was at its zenith.  The people  the cultural period of the Stone Age beginning around 10,000 BC, left behind them Megalithic structures and polished stone implements.

Our pre-historic megalithic (“large stones”) structures actually  predate the Giza pyramids by a  millennium. 

Subsequently, Malta became a colony of the Phoenicians, the ancient maritime country of southwest Asia (nowadays roughly Syria and Lebanon).  This people gave us its alphabet, which was based on symbols for sounds rather than hieroglyphics (Egyptian-style) or  cuneiform (Sumerian or Persian).

The Romans overcame Carthage at the end of the Third Punic war, and colonised Malta.  We became a self-governing Municipium, the second highest class of Ancient Roman cities, inferior in status only to the colonia, and a Foederata Civitas.

Malta has the ultimate accolade of being mentioned in the Bible because during this period, Paul of Tarsus was shipwrecked here,  in AD 60.

Between the 4^th and 9^th century,  Malta was part of the Byzantium Empire.  Malta was subjugated by the Arabs in AD 879 after being sacked by the Vandals.

The Arabs introduced cotton, a staple commodity at the time, and also citrus fruits.  They set up irrigation systems and influenced our vernacular, which has both Romance and Semitic roots. 

From   1091, there followed a succession of rulers – the Normans, the Angevins, the Hohenstaufens, and the Aragonese. These established Maltese nobility was established; some titles are still extant today. The oldest traceable one is “Barons of Djar il-Bniet and Buqana”.

Came 1530, Spain gave our Islands as a gift to the  Order of Knights Hospitallers of St John of Jerusalem, who had been driven out of Rhodes by the Ottoman Empire in 1522.  The 1565 Great Siege is a turbulent period in Maltese History, but it was the ball that started the World Heritage City of Valletta rolling.

Napoleon Bonaparte captured Malta, en route to his Egyptian Expedition in 1798.  He  had wilily asked for a safe harbour and supplies – and once inside the fortifications of Valletta, turned the tables against his hosts.

Because of circumstances obtaining, Grand Master Ferdinand von Hompesch zu Bolheim capitulated.  Napoleon looted our treasures at his convenience.  The French were unpopular during their stay; the Maltese conspired with Great Britain, and the  Kingdom of the Two Sicilies, and the resultant blockade meant that the French were isolated.

The year was 1800, and General Claude-Henri Belgrand de Vaubois had no choice but to surrender.  Malta became a British protectorate; than an Independent Nation, and later a Republic.  In 2004 we entered the European Union.

So much, then, for our chequered history – but as regards the geography, visitors would be well advised to explore it themselves…. over several visits.

Tanja Cilia

tanjachilja@hotmail.com

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Poetry Corner

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 My Fickle Friend
Cynthia Groopman

I have a friend as fickle as can be,
teasing and often playing tricks on me.
Sometimes, her face appears to be humid, hot and hazy,
as she causes me to lack ambition and feel lazy.
The grains of sand on the beach glisten as the sun continually bakes,
and my toes burn as I desire a barefoot walk to take.
Then the sun's incessant warmth suddenly becomes a chilly frost,
and there I stand in summer clothes, shivering, confused and lost.
The once smiling blue sky takes on a doleful frown,
and quick as a flash, the rain comes pouring down.
Boisterous and roaring was each lionesque thunderclap,
which frightened me, awakening me from my restful afternoon nap.
I threw off the covers and swiftly jumped out of bed,
to greet me was a leak in the ceiling and raindrops fell upon my head.
The angry howling wind pulsated the waves pounding upon the shore,
which tormented and thrashed upon my front door.
When I awoke, embracing ground was a sheet of ice and slippery, too,
And as I ventured out, I nearly fell and lost my shoe.
For my fickle is the unpredictable weather, as you can plainly see,
Always creating a scene full of fury, drama and fantasy.


Cynthia Groopman
Cynthia.Groopman@verizon.net
Copyright ©2004 Cynthia Groopman
~**~**~  

My Garden Of Humanity
Cynthia Groopman

As a smiling tapestry of sisters and brothers join hands in loving joy
a truly magnificent floral garden they are
Radiating a special splendor of Divine light
that is as bright as a colorful twinkling star.
For as each hand touches another,
spinning a web of glowing rainbow majesty,
As brotherhood and love exude,
as all sing rejoicing in peace and harmony.
Priceless joy and fragrances or floral elegance
regally reside in hearts that beat in unison,
God gifted all with splendid essence in smiling faces
and souls pure within.
For each soul is adorned with a breathtaking fragrance,
as we bask in the floral garden of eternal sunshine and elegance.


Cynthia Groopman
Cynthia.Groopman@verizon.net
Copyright ©2004 Cynthia Groopman

 ~**~**~

My Imagination
Cynthia Groopman

God has bestowed a precious gift upon me,
That enhances my life profoundly.
More priceless than the rarest jewel, is my imagination,
Which enables me to bask in a land of fantasy and elation.
Thoughts of joy swirl round and round,
As I land on imagination's hallowed ground.
A rainy day can suddenly become sunny,
And my imagination makes a sad moment happy and funny.
I visualize fields so lush and green,
And thoughts of love, peace and brotherhood that are serene.
I marvel at God's creation that by me is unseen,
But everything is beautiful and radiant to me,
via my imagination that is vivid and keen.


Cynthia Groopman
Cynthia.Groopman@verizon.net
Copyright ©2004 Cynthia Groopman

~**~**~

Ah Memories So Dear And Sweet

Cynthia Groopman

Ah, memories so dear and sweet,

Serving as a delicious nostalgic treat.

On special celebrations,

Ah, sweet memories fill my heart with majestic elation.

As I ponder of the joys of long ago,

Ah sweet memories bathe my soul in exquisite golden glow.

For sweet memories

sustain me,

Helping me cope with adversity.

Sweet memories enfold me in yesteryear's loving embrace,

as smiles dance sprightly on my happy face.

As sweet memories fill my sky of life with joy,

Anguish and anxiety feelings of despair they destroy.

So, sweet memories, in my rainbow of triumph you flourish and thrive,

Enfolded in your serene arms, I am blessed as you create a past that will forever be alive.

Cynthia Groopman

Cynthia.Groopman@verizon.net

~**~**~

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