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Subject: October 2, 2007 - Storytime Tapestry Contributors: Jennifer Oliver; Cynthia Groopman - October02, 2007



Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

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

October 2, 2007

 

Publishers Favourite Sites:

Rosanne Catalano

http://www.rosannecatalano.net/

 

Michael Smith

http://subs.zinester.com/86758/

 

Barbara Weymouth

penwormprayerwarriors-subscribe@yahoogroups.com

 

Helen Dowd

www.occupytillicome.com

 

Dean Perchick

http://symzonia.blogspot.com

 

I'd like to tell you about a new website that I discovered and now love where all of your favorite authors can be heard on video from your own computer!

 

The website is Bookvideos.tv and is coming to you from Simon & Schuster publishing. Check it out at: http://www.bookvideos.tv! You won't be sorry you did.

 

Today’s Announcement

 

 

Donations are always needed to help with the operating expenses of running the newsletter and to keep Storytime Tapestry the quality newsletter you are so accustomed to.   

 

Please note that Storytime Tapestry is a free newsletter to members and there will never be a cost for the newsletter. Donations are purely voluntary and no member should ever feel guilty for not making a donation at this time.

 

 

Today’s Stories

~**~**~

 An Open Book

Jennifer Oliver

 

 

 "Don't worry about me," I told the instructor. "I can read lips."

"Really?" she asked, astonished.

"Yep," I said. To illustrate my point, I used my finger as an imaginary reading guide directed at her lips and continued with a straight face, "Once upon a time..."

I've been an avid lip-reader all my life. So much so in that I can read more than just lips. Your whole face is an open book. Your body language and gestures paint the picture for me.

Without you uttering one single word.

I've made it my life to study mannerisms and facial expressions to help accentuate the spoken word when the spoken word by itself was...well, Greek to me. I've come to rely on it so much that if someone were to approach me while I was in the middle of cleaning my glasses, I'd say, "Wait! I need my glasses to hear!"

One audiology course I took in college brought home to me how much I relied on lip-reading to understand people. My instructor asked that we all take out a sheet of paper and number it one through twenty.

Then she lip-synched twenty words to us. Her point was to educate us on the skills required in the art of lip-reading. She glanced my way with a twinkle in her eye, knowing I would ace it.

And of course I did. My classmates looked at me like I had sprouted an IQ far above my shoe size.

As a result, my occupation as a lip-reader has made me privy to conversations in public places. Eavesdropping by proxy, if you will. I've watched a couple send their kids to the salad bar so they could discuss their impending divorce. I've seen two girls being catty about another girl sitting two rows down at a high school football game. An old man snuggled up to his feline companion in the park one time and baby-talked sweet nothings to its benign expression.

One poignant experience, however, uplifts me to this day.

It wasn't noon yet so not many customers filled the food court at the mall. I was enjoying my stir-fry, and two tables across from me was a man biting into his sandwich while perusing the sports section of a newspaper. A cursory glance told me that he was single at the moment, probably a grandfather.

An older woman--probably a grandmother herself--sidled up to him.

"Excuse me. Is anyone sitting here?"

He shook his head and returned to his newspaper.

I already knew the score. She was single herself--no wedding band--and with all the seats available in the food court, the woman chose that particular spot to sit next to a prospect. She wore designer jeans, her hair and nails styled professionally, and her crisp, white shirt made me think of an Army officer's wife. An officer's wife whose husband was either mired in a midlife crisis with a young thing or had passed away.

She began idle chatter with the man, who politely folded the newspaper and answered her questions. From his glazed eyes, I ventured he was clearly not interested in the conversation, but his broad smile reassured her that she was indeed worthy of his attention. This seemed to make her more animated, glowing like she was sweet sixteen again. Then I saw kindling in his eyes as they began to traverse interests in common. She was very much a fan of his basketball team, and they both enjoyed Friday night bingo. Both of their spouses had passed away from long-term illnesses.

Well, look at that. Exchanging wallet-sized photos of their grandchildren.

I felt a small thrill as they both stood up, and like the gentleman that he was, he cleared her table of napkins, wrappers, and an empty soda cup along with his. They left the borders of the food court, bumping elbows, into a future left to my imagination.

I had just borne witness to an old-fashioned chat room at the mall.

My husband enjoys the fact that I can read lips. The other morning, just as I shifted the car into reverse, I happened to glance up to the second-story window. Stephen was in the window, waving goodbye to me with the "I love you" hand sign.

"I love you!" he mouthed to me so as not to wake up the rest of the household. "I'll have dinner waiting for you, hot mama!"

Sigh.

Much like a classic novel, that's one open book I will never tire of reading.

Jennifer Oliver

 

Poetry Corner

~**~**~

  Summer's Last Song
Cynthia Groopman


As the summer sun begins to fade,
And the fragrant colorful bouquets of flowers flamboyantly march,
In their final parade summer's last song is tunefully heard,
And a bit of sorrow accompany each tuneful word.
For summer's last song is one of saying adieu,
And it is full of nostalgia through and through.
As the newly fallen leaves,
Are rustled playfully by the whistling autumn breeze,
Summer sings a song that says good-bye,
As the merrily chirping birds flap their wings and hurriedly begin to fly.
To a warmer climate they must go,
Where the sun has a renewed golden glow.
Summer's last song is like the ring of the school bell,
Ushering in the new school year and its interesting stories it would eventually tell.
Summer's last song is like's life's final curtain,
For we know that the performance will end, but as to when, we are not certain.
Summer's last song has a tear in her musical eye,
And as we are embraced for the very last time, our hearts weep and we sigh.
For summer, oh how  we shall miss your lively song,
That filled our cup of life with thoughts that were mirthful and emotions,
That were positive, happy and strong.
For summer's last song, will always remain in my mind's ear,
And on a winter day, as we merrily  trudge in the snow, our positive hearts,
Will be adorned with summer cheer.


Cynthia Groopman
Cynthia.Groopman@verizon.net

~**~**~

Autumn's Lovely Song
Cynthia Groopman


Autumn's lovely song conveys majestic change and sad farewells,
As each little musical note is shaped like a swirling colored leaf.
And in autumn's sweet song, we can hear the rustling of the wind,
Pitter pattering all about.
Autumn's song whistles incessantly in a windy whine tune,
As the last rose of summer fades and no longer blooms.
Autumn's song has a bitter taste,
As all creation shed their aromas in haste.
Each little musical note of autumn's song sounds tired lackluster,
And no longer full of fun,
Because each note is not caressed by the golden warmth and glow,
Of the summer sun.
Autumn's song resounds with whispering stars that flarefully dance,
In the crisp clear night sky,
As beautiful pictures of breathtaking sights dance joyfully in our eyes.


Cynthia Groopman
Cynthia.Groopman@verizon.net
~**~**~

To Bask in the Youthful Sunshine Once More,

Cynthia Groopman

 

Ah, to bask in the youthful sunshine glow once more,

Is a wish I cherish and adore.

To have long braids and a chubby smiling face,

To run, jump and frolic I playful place.

 

To shout with intense joy,

 

At the surprise of receiving a brand new toy.

 

To sit in my mom's or dad's lap,

 

To lay carefree taking an afternoon nap.

To rejoice as I hear the daily school bell ring,

,

 

As we line up, laugh and sing.

 

To shop for school supplies,

 

Oh, pictures of these wonderful nostalgic days appear vividly

before my dancing eyes.

 

It is impossible to go back to those wonderful days,

 

But with imagination, reflection and walking down memory lane, we can bring them back in reality ways.

 

Cynthia Groopman

Cynthia.Groopman@verizon.net

 

~**~**~

 Yesterday
Cynthia Groopman


Oh, sweet yesterday,
how I yearn for you in a nostalgic way.
When I think of the lovely cherished moments of yesterday,
my heart sings and dances in a joyful way.
Oh, yesterday, I visit you when I stroll down memory lane,
but yet I dwell in a world of fantasy and nothing is quite the same.
I must not dwell in the past,
but yet, I must look forward onto tomorrow,
making the dreams of yesterday eternally last.


Cynthia Groopman
Cynthia.Groopman@verizon.net

Readers Feedback

 

I had read her Jacqueline’s story earlier today; was going to email her to "welcome" her to Storytime Tapestry, but I got an email from my mom and replied to her email first (it was pretty LONG too lol). Then I get this awful news about Jacqueline! I was shocked to say the least.

 

Of course I'm still going to send her a welcome email. Only now I will also tell her I heard about what happened and will ask her how she's doing  (I figure if she's reading my email that means she's out of the hospital). Let's pray! Unbelievable what happened to her. Just goes to show: you just never know! That's why we must cherish each day, one minute at a time.

 

Rosanne

Publisher / Editor / Author

The Cat's Meow for Writers & Readers Ezine

Now On Sale: Mirrored Images (2007); www.rosannecatalano.net

 

 

 

Prayers and more prayers.

Ginny and I pray for Jacqueline, her family and her friends.

We enjoy Jacqueline’s stories and pray for her to return to

health and share more of her wonderful words.

 

I AM SO SORRY ABOUT THE WRITER WHOSE SPLENDID WORK i JUST READ FOR SEPTEMBER 30 that she was shot. My prayers are with her for healing. I shall notify my email pals to pray for her. Best, Cynthia

 

Mike

 

Jennifer

 

That was an absolutely wonderful story. Thank you so much. Give my thanks to Stephen as well.

 

Mike Smith

 

Jacqueline, we welcome you to Storytime Tapestry & hope to read more from you soon. Constance Gilbert

 

Jacqueline,

This was a very touching story.  It is very sad when a good friend dies.  Welcome to Storytime Tapestry!

Sincerely,

David Fox

 

 

Storytime Tapestry Angels

 

Angels on earth, they exist they are out there.  Angels come in all ages, shapes and sizes, civil status, and religion.  Their nature is love and their purpose is giving to the less fortunate of this world.  Storytime Tapestry angels are no exception.  These angels are loyal members who have contributed to the upkeep of Storytime Tapestry newsletter so that Storytime Tapestry can continue come to your email box 350 days of the year.

 

Here is our Storytime Tapestry Angels: Also, I would like to thank those of you who chose to be a silent angel and gave an anonymous donation to keep Storytime Tapestry up and running.

 

 

Clara Westerfer, Mark Crider, Rosanne Catalano, Paula Booher, Kay Seefeldt, Mariane Holbrook, Mary Ellen Grisham, Louise Nomani, Sharon Bryant, Angela Walker, Hart and Helen Dowd, Keith Ready, Ginger Morgenstern, Ellie Braun-Haley, Surinder Jandu, Bob Shaw, Carol Meeks, Charlotte Hilliard, Maria Keller

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 









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