tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-72025283721807986172024-02-01T20:31:57.726-08:00Imperfectly Perfect Creations .... With ShilpaImperfectly Perfect Creations...with Shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06429367890322987167noreply@blogger.comBlogger81125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7202528372180798617.post-45589243663122473662014-11-27T11:14:00.000-08:002014-11-27T13:04:49.550-08:00What do you cook on Thanksgiving? <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><span class="bqQuoteLink" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Verdana, Arial, sans-serif !important; font-size: 20px; line-height: 26px;">"<a href="http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/o/oprahwinfr163087.html?src=t_thanksgiving" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;" title="view quote">Be thankful for what you have; you'll end up having more. If you concentrate on what you don't have, you will never, ever have enough.</a>"</span></span></div>
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<a href="http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/o/oprah_winfrey.html" style="color: #0000aa; text-decoration: none;" title="view author"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Oprah Winfrey</span></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Such a simple thought and yet so difficult to practice. Just as activities expand with the availability of time, so do our desires with the availability and the widespread culture of shopping around Thanksgiving. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">Historically, the roots of thanksgiving goes back to the harvest season and the pilgrims, but for once, I am going to skip the history, because the idea of families gathering to share a wholesome meal brings warmth and a smile to me. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><b>Most holidays are centered around kids, Thanksgiving is not. It's one of those days that you have to be a grown up to appreciate. </b></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">The world Thanksgiving, conjures up images of a turkey, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes and pie's galore. For a vegetarian family or at least when the chef in the family is a vegetarian, it poses a different dilemma, how does one combat the challenge of making it all vegetarian and yet have the family enjoy it. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">This thanksgiving, like every other year have been invited to a friends for a gathering filled with food and laughter. Appreciate and thankful that she takes the time every year and includes us in the celebrations. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">It's going to be mostly a vegetarian affair at her place, with some bird :) So thought of sharing a few of my favorite vegetarian dishes that work for holiday potluck dinners. What am I taking this year? The Vegetable Biryani.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><b>Have a wonderful Thanksgiving everyone. Count the little blessings, the big ones will come automatically. </b></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><b><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">SWEET POTATO WRAPS. </span></u></b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;">Saw this idea originally on <a href="http://www.showmethecurry.com/" target="_blank">Show me the curry</a> and I thought it was brilliant. You can choose either red or white sweet potatoes. I tried both and settled on white. I added a few twerks and this is how it goes. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIO4C-ChJTr_Z0MkUFR7nbc7fy8X2z3-PHC-WgV4stqWK2jw5T4keOzgHD0ZcadmCI0uVptB0oqUNF30_ZL5eYSuhJWXZFIrgOu21G-XvqDQhxx4wBmkanOSKiRvy968MwfQQiK7I7/s1600/photo+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><b>Dice sweet potatoes into small squares. This is the longest and the hardest part for this dish. </b></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;">On high, heat some oil in a wok, add some <a href="http://www.tarladalal.com/glossary-panch-phoron-seeds-1027i" target="_blank">Panch Phoran</a> (its a five spice mix of fennel, nigella, cumin, fenugreek and mustard seeds.) </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><b>If you don't have this - no worries, you can use cumin seeds and if you have neither - don't worry, just kip this step.</b> Add a pinch of ginger and lots of crushed peanuts for the crunch and texture and saute for a minute. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><b>Allergic to nuts - Add finely chopped celery and green peppers instead. </b></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">No allergies - Add it all :) </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIO4C-ChJTr_Z0MkUFR7nbc7fy8X2z3-PHC-WgV4stqWK2jw5T4keOzgHD0ZcadmCI0uVptB0oqUNF30_ZL5eYSuhJWXZFIrgOu21G-XvqDQhxx4wBmkanOSKiRvy968MwfQQiK7I7/s1600/photo+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIO4C-ChJTr_Z0MkUFR7nbc7fy8X2z3-PHC-WgV4stqWK2jw5T4keOzgHD0ZcadmCI0uVptB0oqUNF30_ZL5eYSuhJWXZFIrgOu21G-XvqDQhxx4wBmkanOSKiRvy968MwfQQiK7I7/s1600/photo+2.JPG" height="200" width="150" /></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy7Z-Nd3e_wERRnWD8bpMD11U2zv98FDGHNcqbFAa-LEhdYt_ZzMeHOPnkorCSwQaz8oLIlwSowk_SyxAiQTEDX8DKnyCuvIG-I7Ekf2dU2hXIvCAUpNXLA2P-0m8YZZ7GcOZT5LWf/s1600/photo+5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy7Z-Nd3e_wERRnWD8bpMD11U2zv98FDGHNcqbFAa-LEhdYt_ZzMeHOPnkorCSwQaz8oLIlwSowk_SyxAiQTEDX8DKnyCuvIG-I7Ekf2dU2hXIvCAUpNXLA2P-0m8YZZ7GcOZT5LWf/s1600/photo+5.JPG" height="200" width="150" /></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyc6AEBdNwCIM2CabftT-j6WX2h4pQc3IC70iM6PkRwc6nKJe9_gzpkum4PGIDcoqPTyE5aHAXofZ1WpHU3MUI9Z0KnCMMSXg15oQNsVRk8r0iJzUfgnbfc-TRGFyiyjI__0LJ4yq_/s1600/photo+4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyc6AEBdNwCIM2CabftT-j6WX2h4pQc3IC70iM6PkRwc6nKJe9_gzpkum4PGIDcoqPTyE5aHAXofZ1WpHU3MUI9Z0KnCMMSXg15oQNsVRk8r0iJzUfgnbfc-TRGFyiyjI__0LJ4yq_/s1600/photo+4.JPG" height="200" width="150" /></a></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">Add the sweet potatoes and stir fry on high till they start feeling tender. You can test the tenderness by</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"> pressing a little with your spatula. Once a little tender.. <b>Add the magic ingredient, Sriracha Sauce. </b></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">Yes, squirt in Sriracha depending on how spicy you want it to be, add salt to taste, stir fry for another 5-10 minutes or more if you like your sweet potatoes a litte mushy, cook for a few more minutes and your done. Top with some finely chopped green onions. If you don't like onions.. cilantro works well. If you don't like cilantro.. top with some dried cranberries. If you like them all - its your lucky day.. add them all. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><b>TO ASSEMBLE: </b></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQTlPdEdB6aakhNGULvd5ag-dmBvnQ0xnY6FJmWIvwgOgZEnnL1VEp8jMLFSHmfreLkPBW77EzWZsWXNgD7IxqoOUe-o0esJUnc5UFIkbhms3EICroMu7cWa_t1XkDSt9SvRruyuwB/s1600/IMG_1802.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQTlPdEdB6aakhNGULvd5ag-dmBvnQ0xnY6FJmWIvwgOgZEnnL1VEp8jMLFSHmfreLkPBW77EzWZsWXNgD7IxqoOUe-o0esJUnc5UFIkbhms3EICroMu7cWa_t1XkDSt9SvRruyuwB/s1600/IMG_1802.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;">Take some lettuce, un wrap the leaves slowly _ I haven't quite figured out how <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b></b></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;">restaurants have those perfect lettuce cups, but I am sure some day, I'll find out. Buy an extra lettuce just in case you don't get the perfect cups from the first one. </span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;">Add the sweet potatoes, top with your favorite sweet sauce OR do what I do, I take a basic Indian tamarind sauce, mix in some Sriracha and it tastes like heaven :) </span></li>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"><b>Ok, now you know, one of the secert ingredients in my pantry is this Sriracha sauce. No need to re-create the wheel, the makers of this sauce do an amazing job. Save yourself some time and use it creatively for the most amazing flavors. FYI.. it works very well with Thousand Island dressing too :)</b></span></div>
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<b><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">VEGETARIAN BIRYANI </span></u></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Biryani takes it's roots in the Persian culture. It probably took centuries and many trade routes to reach India. The word Biryani originates from the Farsi word Birian which basically means "fried before cooking."</b> Guess mom knew this, cos she always washes the rice, then stir fries with ghee an cumin seeds before adding the water and letting the rice boil. Scientifically, the stir frying breaks the gelatin layer of the rice and allows for a separate grains rather than them being stuck together</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNnVGYKOXFeChsmu794gzcvlqeIX6X5cl_9OX6sQ3Y3D1SR_hJiHsLSPommchyphenhyphen__4L6ARh0MRI9SMasve2i0o3hMrMlKPpb73kAprGHsrdriYgiZnPupSyxyDnppMW99PMOSU3dt62/s1600/photo+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNnVGYKOXFeChsmu794gzcvlqeIX6X5cl_9OX6sQ3Y3D1SR_hJiHsLSPommchyphenhyphen__4L6ARh0MRI9SMasve2i0o3hMrMlKPpb73kAprGHsrdriYgiZnPupSyxyDnppMW99PMOSU3dt62/s1600/photo+2.JPG" height="200" width="150" /></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So that's what you go to do first, take any long grain rice, wash it, stir fry it with rice and <b>anise seed.</b> Another favorite of mine and oh so aromatic. True to its name, it is a star ingredient. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOmPaNiP0lDUII3OlUVv6K_euerLoKqVEnUYi9vWvlg64K9baUNkWttqj7ATvxuZGGJWXbIMaeX7JjvCdulmAYV5_elsDmA-paTH14ehycT9ydR_zutMsdA9XycINaK0K8AgoFHRpR/s1600/photo+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOmPaNiP0lDUII3OlUVv6K_euerLoKqVEnUYi9vWvlg64K9baUNkWttqj7ATvxuZGGJWXbIMaeX7JjvCdulmAYV5_elsDmA-paTH14ehycT9ydR_zutMsdA9XycINaK0K8AgoFHRpR/s1600/photo+3.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sorry, did not take pics of rice cooking :) and I cooked it in a pressure cooker.. so did not stir fry. But it took literally 5 mins to make the rice. </span><br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Since I already have the rice, I am stir frying the veggies (any hard vegetable works; onions, green peppers, cauliflower, carrots, green beans, mushrooms - cut them all length wise,) with anise seed, some cloves, cumin and bay leaves. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You only need to add some salt and cayenner pepper to taste now. </span></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifSs_51ZTJwbqyeFeMQyBH6XW2YUxADeeiFit_BZo4d-i5Gb1A23H1FTg9iaDNpj21bp6b4qBx-SN3-y_3jwJKyBcFkI07odVftT4288dQnHD2R8fWbuw1UjmViE6dE0y9XDxMMX6A/s1600/photo+5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoOuedAmtg6XR1E_FWtjFHoA1nViYqVnfcA3LwOpDFbL0Eq_wHTRM6iAJ0-qkDRHwWO_brLHO6z6IpswKTq0idx9KDgvQPxNuLwFNjl78pBTMQ9FYUpquMnmTLnol8u2mbnwLrVtyx/s1600/photo+4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="clear: left; float: left; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Decided to make it in a Tagine, since there is nothing better to do today than cook. It's going to take it's own sweet time. Once the vegetables get tender. Layer the rice with vegetables OR do what I do, I just fold in the rice. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>I like the rice to get the shades of color due to the spices.. makes it look so much more fall like than being plan white :) </b></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Enjoy. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u>ROASTED MEDLEY: Cauliflower with Red pepper sauce. </u></span></b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;">This is a very easy recipe and can be prepped two days ahead of time. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"><b>For the Roasted Red Pepper Sauce: </b> Buy the peppers: Only Red or a mix of red, yellow, orange works too. <b>I usually roast them in the toaster oven at 350, till they start looking roasted :) Sorry, have never timed it. But you will know. The aroma fills the house and they are ready to be taken out. You can turn them after 10 mins or not, it works either way. </b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGFlgZCm1cnhVH1tjVnXUtQ0jfZRxpH7OtCOa6vE2ekdAnUGF7ruz8bxlWN9iSsGxvhqSN4iCNSfcG99tZyrp2kSHbJl51IJBzAQEJpiSBKe6bBNi22G-yGzkA8NACLfS2LCqwW8b4/s1600/photo+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGFlgZCm1cnhVH1tjVnXUtQ0jfZRxpH7OtCOa6vE2ekdAnUGF7ruz8bxlWN9iSsGxvhqSN4iCNSfcG99tZyrp2kSHbJl51IJBzAQEJpiSBKe6bBNi22G-yGzkA8NACLfS2LCqwW8b4/s1600/photo+1.JPG" height="200" width="150" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;">As the peppers roast, t<b>ake your head of cauliflower. You can choose to marvel at the beauty and magic of nature for a minute and wonder how it creates such perfect </b></span><b style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;">symmetry without any tools and gadgets or take your favorite knife and go for it.</b><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"> It's a personal preference.. You can either cook it as a complete flower, chop it into big florets or chop it into smaller florets. This time, since its more kid friendly,</span><b style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"> I chopped it into medium size florets. </b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYcxLfmqCm3Ji26b7LfKXiK48zyRhyphenhyphenaHJ4lrFI8aZdjZFPdRM3UaQMCn4qnXwDl7jafshQXMp6B9SNQU8tuHidTO1tNfVW1O3hJrVXmK3Ue0evTjdXxKq0huHJFmNbjiHBAiEpF0e1/s1600/photo+4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYcxLfmqCm3Ji26b7LfKXiK48zyRhyphenhyphenaHJ4lrFI8aZdjZFPdRM3UaQMCn4qnXwDl7jafshQXMp6B9SNQU8tuHidTO1tNfVW1O3hJrVXmK3Ue0evTjdXxKq0huHJFmNbjiHBAiEpF0e1/s1600/photo+4.JPG" height="200" width="150" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;">Now mariniate them.<b> Add salt, cayenne pepper (not too much as you will be adding some in the sauce too,) add about 2tbsp of ginger, one or two cloves of garlic (if you like them, if not, the cauliflower still loves you ;)), a pinch of oregano an thyme, squeeze in just a tad bit of lemon juice and give it a squirt of olive oil and now just mix till they are evenly coated. </b>Then you can store them in the refrigerator till you are ready to bake them. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;">Meanwhile, your roasted red peppers are beginning to cook. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUg8mIrzJfxhCxxGfhzYst-CPxcYMmA7veyBLKbgXomzGixwNHPOLRXb3MlJ8SZDpvdvgJTao6lVKeQcI1F5JSufccsW_UY1ZOE7YCOKglIeMiOZ9j4PgkcMVVA9rjchDKLFp-Udfg/s1600/photo+5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; font-family: Times; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUg8mIrzJfxhCxxGfhzYst-CPxcYMmA7veyBLKbgXomzGixwNHPOLRXb3MlJ8SZDpvdvgJTao6lVKeQcI1F5JSufccsW_UY1ZOE7YCOKglIeMiOZ9j4PgkcMVVA9rjchDKLFp-Udfg/s1600/photo+5.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;">Once cooked, <b>take them out and let them cool a little - toss them in the blender and give it a twirl, till it is a complete smooth paste. </b></span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;">Now take a saucepan, <b>add some butter - let the butter brown. Which basically is a fancy way of saying, on medium high, let the butter burn for a little - u want it brown not black :) immediately lower the heat, stir profusely as you add cumin powder, some oregano, thyme and cayenne pepper. </b></span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;">And add the roasted red pepper puree. </span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;">Keep it on low, add salt to taste and a fist full of finely chopped cilantro. If you don't have cilantro.. that's ok.. skip it. </span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"><b>Now cover this with a splatter screen and let the sauce simmer on low for a good 30 mins. </b></span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;">Once cooked, you can freeze it or use it for anything from cauliflower to pasta to pizza. </span></li>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX9av6HOz2XPnsroWsFMllhwansDqg72zucVVv4Ozg95o-6RL6OwDJyQG6Xy7Dd28EiZzY7F9za5mKoC-7G15UmLUn9EAFJDY779fduV85MUrs2gimImBTR6MuyyV4RYaRpqEsbj12/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX9av6HOz2XPnsroWsFMllhwansDqg72zucVVv4Ozg95o-6RL6OwDJyQG6Xy7Dd28EiZzY7F9za5mKoC-7G15UmLUn9EAFJDY779fduV85MUrs2gimImBTR6MuyyV4RYaRpqEsbj12/s1600/photo.JPG" height="284" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">ROASTED MEDLEY - Cauliflower with red pepper sauce. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To assemble, just add some sauce in a oven safe pan, add layer it with cauliflower, add some more sauce and bake at 350 or 400. This for me depends on if I have other things to do a</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">t that time or not. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">If you bake at 400 - you have to keep an eye on it. If at 350 - you can easily forget it for 30 minutes :) and then check it with a fork to see how tender it is. I like it when the cauliflower can be separated but its not mushy. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">Serve hot over rice or as a side with bread. It is YUMMM! </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; line-height: 20px;"><b>HAPPY THANKSGIVING! </b></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; line-height: 20px;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQTlPdEdB6aakhNGULvd5ag-dmBvnQ0xnY6FJmWIvwgOgZEnnL1VEp8jMLFSHmfreLkPBW77EzWZsWXNgD7IxqoOUe-o0esJUnc5UFIkbhms3EICroMu7cWa_t1XkDSt9SvRruyuwB/s1600/IMG_1802.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a></b></span></span></div>
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Cooking is simple. If you can dress yourself every day you can
cook too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ever read those
articles, where a fashion expert takes 15 basic pieces to give you 30 or
maybe even more different looks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Cooking is the same way. There are few basics and then it’s an art of
mix and match. Sometimes the combinations are brilliant, and sometimes they are
okay, but every time they are YOUR originals and that’s what makes the dish
great. It is YOU and your touch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>How you cut the vegetables? How you stir fry them, at what temperature,
do you add the spices before the tomatoes are softened or after? It is these
little nuances that change a dish. The greatest chefs of the world don’t have
any special ingredients. In fact the best chefs use the most commonly available
ingredients and spices. <br />
<br />
What are the basics cooking? Let's see, some of your basic pieces of clothing like the good pair of jeans, and a tan jacket with a little accessories can go from casual to WOW, similarly there are a few building blocks to the "<a href="http://www.shilpaverma.com/" target="_blank">"Sans Recipe"</a> route.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTiR8ZVoScbVHyCrGWIJcLeNeS25KEKN9lR9NrtxqOruP9hyRW0Dm9H4arLSPl6b5c0go7a87-m219fq8BjKu2lE7vLl2prhCPP1HT6x3JhDOKgF-KcevuFy75aMOl7WisHLGFsG8K/s1600/IMG_0916.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTiR8ZVoScbVHyCrGWIJcLeNeS25KEKN9lR9NrtxqOruP9hyRW0Dm9H4arLSPl6b5c0go7a87-m219fq8BjKu2lE7vLl2prhCPP1HT6x3JhDOKgF-KcevuFy75aMOl7WisHLGFsG8K/s1600/IMG_0916.JPG" height="132" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aaloo - Tikki</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzq9NVICdXbJmmZZlxYRwlVOMhMrKE6cBHK49_rIC5I2ZwqInfbIC5LG7zvR8QbMgNsAejQG34NZZhdohjUc7R9-oumTUi78pBJLcHFUM6HjwyNyUCWrIP_PrA2UtxWz0QsQIxxjCe/s1600/IMG_0911.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzq9NVICdXbJmmZZlxYRwlVOMhMrKE6cBHK49_rIC5I2ZwqInfbIC5LG7zvR8QbMgNsAejQG34NZZhdohjUc7R9-oumTUi78pBJLcHFUM6HjwyNyUCWrIP_PrA2UtxWz0QsQIxxjCe/s1600/IMG_0911.JPG" height="148" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kofta - </td></tr>
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"Sans Recipe" was not something I aspired to learn; I grew up with the style. The variety of colors and textures my mom laid out on the table for the simplest luncheon to a formal gathering was nothing less than a feast both to the eyes and palate. It was from her I learnt the skill of menu planning. It is because of my Mom that I never serve Aaloo-Tikki as an appetizer and then have Malai kofta as an entre'e - why you ask? The answer is quite simple, they both are made from potatoes and are fried. The only difference, one is flat and dry, the other is a pot bellied ball and submerged in a gravy.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">To go the “Sans Recipes” route and create some sexy food, you need to know the basic rules of cooking and a </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://imperfectlyperfectcreations.blogspot.com/p/building-your-kitchen.html" target="_blank">well stocked pantry. </a></span></span><br />
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They are: </div>
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<li>A <a href="http://What are the basics cooking? Let's see, some of your basic pieces of clothing like the good pair of jeans, and a tan jacket with a little accessories can go from casual to WOW, similarly there are a few building blocks to the "Sans Recipes" route." target="_blank">well stocked pantry</a></li>
<li>Techniques</li>
<li>Your tools - Your spices and the pots n pans of course</li>
<li>The gut to experiment </li>
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<b>That's really all you need to create some sexy fashionable and edible art. </b></div>
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From the above, <a href="http://imperfectlyperfectcreations.blogspot.com/p/building-your-kitchen.html" target="_blank"><b>stocking your pantry</b></a> is the easiest one. All you got to do is go on a shopping trip :)<br />
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Pots n pans are an interesting one. Go back the memory lane, your comfort food most likely came from a humble kitchen with very basic pots filled with lots of love and honest ingredients. <b>Pots n pans are a personal preference.</b> There are some who only cook
in cast iron, some who never use non-stick, some who revere the aroma in a clay
cooked pot, personally, <b>for me it depends on how much time I have.</b> If I have
the whole day to myself and nothing else going on, yes I love my tagine, on the
contrary if I have thirty minutes to whip up a meal, I need my heavy bottom pan
so I can crank up the heat and be done just in time to pick up the kids from
school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">What technique did you use, this dish is amazing? Did you fry it or bake it? Again, another confusing question. I always wonder at it, because when you bite a dish, isn't the technique obvious. Don't get me wrong, I am not trying to be an expert here, but I think its pretty easy to tell if a dish was steamed, baked or fried. In my mind there are <b>five main techniques to cook; we bake a dish, roast a dish, steam it, stir fry (sauté’) it or deep-fry it.</b><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><b> </b> </span>Ok, we can get technical and say there is braising, poaching, browning etc. But if you look closely, they are all a variations of the basics.</span></div>
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<b>Experimentation</b>, the fun starts now: It’s cauliflower, cut it into medium size florets, sautéed with
some chopped potatoes, a pinch of salt, a hint of turmeric, a double hint of
ginger, a dash of coriander powder, a spoonful of garam-masala, a pinch of
cinnamon and amchur, cooked till tender on medium high heat gives you a
delectable “aaloo-gobi sabzi” from the North Indian kitchen. Now take the same
medium sized florets, add some oregano, thyme, salt and sauté. Add a hint of
garlic, some cayenne pepper, maybe even a squirt of ketchup mix in some <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>al-dente penne pasta, throw the mix in a
casserole dish, top with cheese and bake till the cauliflower is tender, you just
created an original - Cauliflower Penne. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
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<b>The point is in less than 30 minutes, you made two scrumptious dishes using the
same main ingredient. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></b>So next time
your daughter wants pasta and your in-laws prefer Indian food, you know what to
do. </div>
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No industry today follows the
same laws as it did centuries ago, then why do cookbooks or rather, why do we
follow recipes and every time we see a delectable dish, we instantly ask for
the recipe, only to realize that no matter how accurately we follow the
direction the dish continues to taste different than what we originally ate. </div>
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Ever wondered why? </div>
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<b>It’s simple; the original dish tasted
heavenly, because it was an original.</b><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><b> </b>
</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
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Next week, together we cook up a vegetarian thanksgiving feast that would make
the carnivores green with envy. But first, let us <a href="http://imperfectlyperfectcreations.blogspot.com/p/building-your-kitchen.html" target="_blank">stock that pantry</a>!<br />
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<b>Gone are the days when eating out
was a luxury. Today a home cooked meal is a luxury and totally in-style. Stay true to yourself, to your pantry and in no time, you’re
going to hear the shy spinach demanding some of that bold cinnamon flavor!</b></div>
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Imperfectly Perfect Creations...with Shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06429367890322987167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7202528372180798617.post-58861246006939248482014-11-15T19:53:00.000-08:002014-11-15T19:53:14.906-08:00Fiction to Reality. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Today is special. </div>
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Today I got the best gift possible; I now have <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><b>www.shilpaverma.com. </b></span></div>
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This space has been in the making for years. This is where I take the bright vibrant reds and blend them in with the calm blues to create the imperfect and yet mystical purple :) Okay, yes I am a pink and purple girl. It's more than a palette of vibrant colors, it's a way to connect, aspire and create.</div>
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The blogposts, some thought provoking, some silly and some cribbing will continue, but only once a month. <b>There's a new kid on the blog, its called "Sans Recipes</b>." It's my new baby, and so get's more attention :) </div>
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Few weeks ago, I took you <a href="http://imperfectlyperfectcreations.blogspot.com/2014/10/in-my-kitchen.html" target="_blank">In My Kitchen</a>. With "Sans Recipes" together, we experiment in a virtual space to share and create real hearty food from anything and everything in our pantry. There is only one condition, no recipes. Ever wondered, why cooking seems like a chore to so many of us. It's because we limit ourselves to the recipes. Why does every Indian curry start with a tomato? Sans Recipes hopes to take the boredom out of cooking. It doesn't matter what your pantry does not have, a yummylicious wholesome meal can always be made with a few basic ingredients. With Sans Recipes I hope we can break free from the slavery of recipe cooking. </div>
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Last year in November, you met <a href="http://imperfectlyperfectcreations.blogspot.com/2013/11/the-shy-little-girl.html" target="_blank">The Shy Girl</a>. Today the shy girl is feeling blessed and thankful for all she has. We are a product of our experiences, the good, the bad and the ugly; all of them make us complete. Every good fiction has a central character and every good story has a character that evolves and reshapes with the story to make it complete. <b>The story of life is no different from the best selling fiction novel. It's a fiction indeed 'cos life happens one day at a time. Every day we take the fictitious tomorrow and make it a reality. </b></div>
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<b>Today my fiction became a reality. </b></div>
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<b>Happy Birthday to ME! </b></div>
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Imperfectly Perfect Creations...with Shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06429367890322987167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7202528372180798617.post-35776177136222291042014-10-29T18:10:00.001-07:002014-10-29T18:10:30.256-07:00The Art of Annoyance. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Art of annoyance? Really, it is. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">There is always annoyance in the world. She is annoyed at life, he is annoyed because there isn't enough time to finish the to-do list, she is annoyed because things are not falling into place, he is annoyed at how work is and this week most of my neighborhood is upset because it's going to rain on Halloween. As I write this post I am annoyed at how someone is turning the house upside down because someone said something about a project. Which project, who said what? I am not supposed to know, for he says he'll figure it all out. Yes, he will. He has to, I tell myself to let go for he is annoyed too. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Reasons can be different, but how we deal with annoyance is the same for all of us. </span></div>
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<li style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So I take a deep breath.</span></li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I remind myself that there is nothing I can do unless I am told what the problem is</span></li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I want to react, but decide against it. Mom wisdom says to just let it go. </span></li>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Anger, annoyance call it what you may but they are very interesting emotions. They bring out the worst in us and yet sometimes from that annoyance stems the most beautiful ideas. Every wondered who made Velcro? How did the idea originate? Google it. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Two days ago, I was pretty upset with things in general. It was a blah day when not much felt good. Retail therapy seemed the only option. I fought every urge to go shopping, stepped into my garage and just started at the 6 sets of candles waiting to be painted. Yes, I create in the most uncreative place. I picked up the bright red one, stared at it and kept it back. Instead of picking up the paints, I picked up the broom at started cleaning the garage. As I aimlessly swept the floor, I mumbled and jumbled to myself, clearly confused and annoyed. Then it happened. A kid in the neighborhood walked by with her grandma. The giggles of that unknown child snapped me out of the boredom trance. I kept the broom back and went back to stare at the candles. This time I picked up the purple candle and gold paint. Positioning my hands delicately on the candle, I let the color move, the sinuous strokes stayed small and looked dainty, I had just painted a rose bud. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This wasn't something I had planned, it just happened. From annoyance came art that I had never planned for. After that it was pure bliss. Here I am today writing a blog and wondering why I was so annoyed that day. Today it seems so silly. <b>This is what annoyance is. It's a fleeting feeling at the core, however we as humans make a big deal out of it. </b> We over process the information, imagine the problems and find solutions to problems that don't even exist. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Before you start marveling at how brilliant I am, please make note that this wisdom is not age old. I am guilty of complaining or being annoyed at life for most of 2014. It has taken me a very long time to accept some moments, but I think I have finally conquered the feeling and lately <b>I proved it to myself by forgiving and moving on. </b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Moving on is the key. It is a very hard thing to do, but yet is the key. The moment that has passed cannot come back or be changed, so why do we hold on to it so tightly? Why do we fail to recognize the magic of present and the hope of future? Why do we despair? I don't have answers to all these questions, the only thing I have learnt in over four decades on this planet is that the key to most problems is better communication. </span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We all need a confidante, someone we can vent out at. It can be friend, a sibling, a spouse, a parent, a diary or maybe a blog :) </span></b></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Just as we all learn differently, we all talk differently too. Some of us prefer to talk with words, some talk by exercising, some talk with gardening and some of us talk with art. Let it be YOUR medium of choice but find that one medium. This medium will release you from the most unpleasant situations and take you to calmer and peaceful places. </span></b></div>
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<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This medium will take your annoyance and create a poem, a flat belly, a blooming garden or a beautiful candle. </span></i></b></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It is called the Art of Annoyance.</span></b></div>
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Imperfectly Perfect Creations...with Shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06429367890322987167noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7202528372180798617.post-20162449900313112312014-10-22T21:46:00.002-07:002014-10-22T21:46:42.484-07:00Happy Diwali. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b><i>Smile a little, it's Diwali. </i></b></div>
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<b><i>Forget your sorrows, it's Diwali. </i></b></div>
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<b><i>Forgive, it's Diwali. </i></b></div>
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<b><i>You may or may not get a second chance, </i></b></div>
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<b><i>Celebrate, it's Diwali. </i></b></div>
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The word Diwali conjures up the memory of lighting 100 diyas every year. My brother and I climbed roof tops and strategically placed the diyas. It had to be a total of 100. Why? No body knows, it was just one of those teenage fancies I had and my parents graciously obliged. Then we patiently waited for dusk, filled up the diya's with oil, added the wicks and lighted them. I remember running out onto the road, standing far back and admiring the labor of hard work and love. What took 3 hours to set up, lasted for but an hour and on a windy day, maybe a few minutes. Yet the effort seemed totally worth it. Such is the magic of Diwali. It brings about a transformation unlike any festival in India, and India has a lot of them. </div>
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Diwali, to me was never the religious holiday. Yes, there is a story behind it, but then that's what it is, a tale. I don't necessarily wear new clothes or buy new clothes. I don't necessarily make the umpteen dishes my mom used to make. I don't necessarily follow the auspicious time announced by the priests, and yet the magic of Diwali thrives. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY8aUS6lIi6ZYqMDEIycWTF6Phc1zzp258kIvGwk0pIARIG8a0hMkEpnGgtDqcJzS7G4eMpN4quJGkv3JoKs2CcnSp14HjwTFZISwEjgcYA9DWOafOMgFKJ8vw9tFOweC4rW6gXOT-/s1600/images-8.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY8aUS6lIi6ZYqMDEIycWTF6Phc1zzp258kIvGwk0pIARIG8a0hMkEpnGgtDqcJzS7G4eMpN4quJGkv3JoKs2CcnSp14HjwTFZISwEjgcYA9DWOafOMgFKJ8vw9tFOweC4rW6gXOT-/s1600/images-8.jpeg" height="160" width="200" /></a></div>
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The magic of Diwali comes from reminiscing the carefree years of lighting diyas, jumping and dodging the sparkles from the Chakri and about all the love and laughter that echoed on every street, every corner and every home. The deafening silence of Diwali fireworks and diyas, the calorie watching and simultaneous eating of deserts, the helping hand of a stranger and the arrival of cousins from lands faraway is the magic of Diwali. </div>
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Today, I sit miles away preserving my memories. The house sleeps and I huddle in my corner realizing that Diwali to me is about celebrating my <i>cared for</i> past, <i>content</i> present and <i>looking forward to </i>future. </div>
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<b>Diwali is about celebrating my roots. </b></div>
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<b>Wishing You and Yours a Very Happy Diwali and an amazing New Year ahead! </b></div>
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Imperfectly Perfect Creations...with Shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06429367890322987167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7202528372180798617.post-74236479351390904462014-10-16T22:46:00.000-07:002014-10-16T22:46:15.043-07:00In My Kitchen... <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Cooking for some is a chore with a sink full of dishes to clean, for some it is microwaving a pre-made meal and for some of us it is an art. I fall in the last category. A self proclaimed artist at soul, cooking is an art for me. <b>I do believe that we eat with our eyes.</b></div>
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Art never followed any rules. The same holds true for my kitchen. There are no rules or recipes followed here. Yes, I do have a collection of cookbooks only because I love browsing through the vibrant colors and the brilliant plating.</div>
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Do you know that person who always chooses to bring drinks to a party because they don't cook? Ever wondered, how they survive without cooking? I do. For most it is the fear of "what if." </div>
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I was 12 years old when I made my first dish; "Baigan ka Bharta." For my western world friends, it is roasted eggplant, mashed up and seasoned with carmelized onions, tomatoes, salt, cayenne pepper, a dash of garam masala and tons of cilantro. The one thing that dish is not supposed to have is "turmeric," and that's exactly what I added. My Nani said, "you never put turmeric in Bharta." Of course I knew that, but the damage was done. So I quipped.. really, I don't know Mom always puts it...LOL. Blame it on Mom, that's what 12 year olds do anyway. </div>
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What if I add more salt than needed, what if it doesn't taste that good? These and more are kitchen fear factors. My answer, so what. So what if there is more salt, you can always add more stock or vegetables to tone it down. So what if it doesn't taste perfect, a pickle on the side or a chutney on the top takes away the imperfections to make a dish that is uniquely perfectly you.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><b><i>“The only real stumbling block is fear of failure. </i></b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><b><i>In cooking you've got to have a what-the-hell attitude.”</i></b></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 18px;"><b><i> ― <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3465.Julia_Child" style="color: #666600; text-decoration: none;">Julia Child</a></i></b></span><br />
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<b>Throw out the what if's and bring in the so what's is the key to making cooking fun.</b></div>
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<b>What does cooking mean to you? </b></div>
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<b>Cooking is a therapeutic for me. It's a stress buster, an escape from the world.</b> Back in the olden days, serving restaurant food was a luxury, today serving a simple home cooked meal to your friends and family is a luxury. I am proud to say, be it a single family dinner or a multi-family holiday dinner, It's only home cooked food in my home. Yes, I have been told I am crazy for making everything from scratch, but then its craziness in a good way.</div>
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<b>Cooking is satisfying. My family gets treated to an a la carte menu every nite. As long as I have their requests in by 5.00pm, I can give them food of choice.</b> When my son was little, I learned the hard way that food cannot be forced down a throat. It has to be relished and enjoyed, only then does it bring in the benefits of healthy and nutrient rich growing, and so started the tradition of a la carte menu. Crazy again, yes.. but the joy of seeing my kids enjoying their food and licking their fingers makes it worth the effort.</div>
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It may seem like a lot of effort, but its not. A friend once told me, "you make us working women feel guilty." I told her, "I also have only 24 hours like you do, so don't feel guilty." All it really takes is a well stocked pantry and some imagination. I usually never plan a weeks worth of menu or grocery list. <b>I buy what my eyes take fancy too and then when its dinner time</b>, I open the refrigerator and make it work. Over the years, I have some staples in my pantry and these staples make it all so easy. <a href="http://www.traderjoes.com/images/fearless-flyer/uploads/article-1433/32589-red-pepper-spread-with-eggplant-garlic.png" target="_blank">Trader Joes Red Pepper Spread</a> is one such staple. This little jar is magic.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A hearty delicious vegetable soup.<br /></td></tr>
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Every so often when I open the refrigerator there are ten different containers with left over food. What does one do? For instance, recently had lots of spinach dip and my favorite plain simple vegetable soup left over. I could have done sandwiches with the dip but the soup would still be the same. So instead, took the dip and made it into a cream of spinach soup AND took the soup, added some rice with a dash of some more spices and it made a scrumptious pulao. A completely new menu with the left overs. <b>Yes, there is something about the upbeat jubilant homemaker in all this, but it is also very liberating to see an experiment come alive</b></div>
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<b>Cooking is also love</b>. My daughter always wants to know what the secret ingredient is. My answer has been consistent; It's love.</div>
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So next time you are having a tired day, a blah day or a celebration day; step into your kitchen, take a look at your pantry, open the refrigerator and just stare at it for a few minutes. I am sure you will cook the most amazing meal your family ever had.</div>
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What did you say? You want a recipe.. free yourself of recipes. Through this space, I'll show you how.</div>
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Imperfectly Perfect Creations...with Shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06429367890322987167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7202528372180798617.post-8364365707574357992014-10-08T22:23:00.002-07:002014-10-08T22:26:23.825-07:00To Barbie or Not? <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Barbie, it's just a doll. You know it, I know it, We know it and yet we worry. Why? Why do we take an adult logic and perceptions and apply it to a toy designed for little girls. </div>
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We, the women are intelligent. We know that no matter how hard we try, it is humanly impossible to have her phyisque. That perfect neck, the toes pointed out and heels that never touch the ground.. come on, it would take the act of god even for the most accomplished plastic surgeon to give that to a woman. </div>
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We, the women sneer at those other women who buy Barbies for their daughter. <b>We talk about how Barbie single handedly lowers and demeans our very existence and yet we crave for those flat abs and put ourselves to the mercy of green juices and detoxifications. </b></div>
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We undercover the muffin tops only to whisper a hush hush wish for the perfect curve. The long tresses, the flaunting stride and the perfect twirl; yes we have always admired them, but when a doll does it, we scorn and despise. </div>
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<b>We who are doctors, lawyers, engineers, fire-fighters, astronauts, nurses, pilots, police-women, fitness experts, chefs, dentists, fashion designers and so much more choose to shun a doll and probably the only doll that has 150 careers on her resume allowing little girls to imagine and be anything they want to be. </b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaN_x87btpVVxVhaPWIJY8l15a1cNmU9P4aOvg5odxCPOAwNflP1YxJl-1eChJqQ7tmb8KrWx-Ya_6MahkJBSGk5sSiKAkhfyhefR9qSqnh2-h88dn8gq6DgcKSLpuhEUOBOrN-6XX/s1600/showimage.php.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaN_x87btpVVxVhaPWIJY8l15a1cNmU9P4aOvg5odxCPOAwNflP1YxJl-1eChJqQ7tmb8KrWx-Ya_6MahkJBSGk5sSiKAkhfyhefR9qSqnh2-h88dn8gq6DgcKSLpuhEUOBOrN-6XX/s1600/showimage.php.jpeg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b>We the women choose to focus our attention on a plastic doll's over sized boobs and thin waistline and ignore the fact that the doll has embraced all the traditional male dominated careers and broken the plastic ceiling before the real woman did and then we stretch our vocal chords on how biased the corporate world is towards women and how under represented girls are in STEM based careers. </b> </div>
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Come on ladies, be serious. Do you really think a 4-5 year old focuses on the anatomy of a doll or the fact that her doll is the perfect companion to be anything that she wants to be? <b>Dolls don't create women who are anorexic, it is us and the world around us. </b></div>
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Think about it, when we the women say that Barbie is ruining the self esteem of girls, aren't we are undermining the female intelligence? <b>Don't you think your daughter is smart enough to know that Barbie is a doll and not a real human being?</b> Unrealistic beauty images are all around us, starting from your own friend circle. Come on be honest, I am sure you know her; the one who starves and sweats daily just to slide into THE dress and then waits for the likes and comments to flow in. </div>
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<b>Barbie is the least of our worries. We need to worry about ourselves, the women. </b></div>
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If your daughter likes pink, let her wear it. If she wants a twirly skirt, buy her one. If she wants a birthday with all the glittery stuff, give her that birthday and celebrate with her. </div>
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<b>Allow her the freedom of being comfortable being a girl. Nature gave her the curves and the dainty look. Grant your daughter the permission to be demure. When she's ready she will adorn THE lab coat with pride and ease. </b></div>
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Imperfectly Perfect Creations...with Shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06429367890322987167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7202528372180798617.post-88144454772489468062014-09-24T22:19:00.000-07:002014-09-24T22:19:33.751-07:00Mysterious Happiness. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This is what we strive for. It is the reason we do what we do. We write tips about it, we write blogs about it and yet we never really pay too much attention to it. A day without any glitches is a good day. When all goes as planned, we feel accomplished. At the end of the day, we look at the picture and smile. When asked, "why are you smiling?" We answer; because I am happy. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Where is all this coming from? It all began with me starting to read the book </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Engineering Happiness, By Rakesh Sarin and Manel Baucells)</i> </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">What is happiness? I am not talking about what happiness means to you. I am asking, what is happiness? Can we define it? Can we design it? Better still, can we create it out of thin air? </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Think about it for a minute, If you had to define happiness in a scientific way, what would that definition be? </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Any guesses? I decided to give it a try of my own: </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Happiness is a state of mind. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Happiness is doing what we love to do</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">and so forth... </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But none of the above work for all. They are too subjective. We need objectivity. Trust the enginees to be objective :) </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><a href="http://www.commpro.biz/corporate-social-responsibility/engineering-happiness-how-do-we-become-happier-professionals-and-consumers/" target="_blank">Happiness = Reality - Expectations</a> <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(Engineering Happiness, By Rakesh Sarin and Manel Baucells)</span></i> </b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So simple and so true. It's one those definitions that I read and said, "now why didn't I think of that." :) </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It's simple, but it's not static. Happiness will increase every time reality is higher than the expectations. This explains why we humans prepare for the worst. We expect the worst, and reality is so much better.. so our happiness is high :) Sadly, the reverse is true too. Every time we expect more, we are setting ourselves up for disappointment. And as I type this I now realize the brilliance of the age old advise, "don't expect too much, just go with the flow." :) </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Happiness is dynamic. </b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Our expectations change at every stage in life and so does our reality. Let us go back to our teenage years. The reality was what our parents said; "the more you share, the more freedom you get." Our expectation was total freedom with minimal sharing, so the happiness sometimes entered negative territory. As soon as we crossover from the famously infamous puberty into the young adult territory, the happiness graph moves back up and reality takes an upper hand. At this point the expectations don't really go down, it's just that as young adults, we too learnt to evaluate all scenarios and prepare for the worst, and so the path to happiness began. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So is the key to happiness keeping our expectations low? Not at all. When expectations arise from within they become the motivation to do better than ourselves. On the contrary when expectations arise from comparison with our peer group, we see an upside down smiley face. This is the start of one's journey towards unhappiness. Comparisons with anyone but oneself, can only lead to unhappiness. The engineers gave us the equation above, how we change the variables depends on us. As long as we maintain the balance between the two variables, we can assure ourselves of continued happiness. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i>The truth is, the glass will always be half empty, and you have to make a choice, either you fill it up or leave it half empty.</i></b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>In a nutshell, happiness can be designed, it can be created via the choices we make. </b>This got me thinking, if happiness is a choice, then how is it that we the intellectually advanced human race never make it a priority. We focus on our to do lists, and make a 5 year plan for life only to end up feeling exhausted at the end of the day. We spend hours dong a job that we are not passionate about and that one hobby that makes us happy, we have no time for. We fear taking the plunge because we have bills to pay. We dream of expanding it all even though we know that it will only lead to more stress and yet we fear scaling it down <b>simply because we fear the expectations the world has from us</b>. <b>Is the world our reality? If not, then having worldly expectations is a perfect recipe for unhappiness. </b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Times are changing. This century is the era of paradigm shifts. Some brave souls are choosing to challenge the conventional expectations and some curious minds are finally putting more thought into the science of being happy. From curious minds creating the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/choosehappiness674" target="_blank">Happiness Quotient</a> to the <a href="http://www.pursuit-of-happiness.org/science-of-happiness/measuring-happiness/" target="_blank">Happiness Scale</a>, there is enough intrigue for the elusive happiness. Philosophers, psychologists and educators continue to wonder about the "why" of happiness. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The corporate world is changing too. Companies are realizing that the secret to success and increased productivity are happy employees. Enter <a href="http://positivesharing.com/2014/08/do-you-want-to-be-a-chief-happiness-officer/" target="_blank">Chief Happiness Officer</a> . Professionals who are finding ways of bringing positivity back into the otherwise robotic world. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Take a look at this <a href="http://unsdsn.org/resources/publications/world-happiness-report-2013/" target="_blank">World Happiness Report</a>, it ranks Denmark, Norway and Switzerland as the happiest top 3 countries in the world. Their criteria; real GDP per capita, healthy life expectancy, having someone to count on, perceived freedom, freedom from corruption and generosity. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">At a country level, the above criteria works. However at the individual level they don't work for me. GDP, perceived freedom etc etc is all about world expectations. <b>Individual happiness is about individual expectations and individual realities. Its interesting to note that what the developed world is still trying to measure and understand, Bhutan: a tiny country nestled in the Himalayas and bordered by success frenzied India and China, has <a href="http://www.grossnationalhappiness.com/" target="_blank">Happiness measured</a> to the very last detail. Bhutan has a holistic approach that factors in spirituality amongst other soft emotions and can be applied to individuals, families, communities and businesses alike. </b></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Now if only we could get the gurus to go to Bhutan and see what they do differently, for they not only have a <a href="http://www.grossnationalhappiness.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/An%20Extensive%20Analysis%20of%20GNH%20Index.pdf" target="_blank">Gross National Happiness</a>, but they are also able to identify in sub categories like extensively happy, narrowly happy :) and plain unhappy :( .</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>The waves are changing, Google the word "happiness" and you will find everything from blogs to "to do" lists to stay happy. In my recent trip to India, I was introduced to <a href="https://www.facebook.com/choosehappiness674?ref=br_tf" target="_blank">Happiness Studio</a> by a friend. It's a novel concept for a country that breathes and chants the mantra's to stay calm and peaceful. It is impressive to see the paradigm change coming. </b></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Going back to our equation, remember they are your realities and expectations. Choose them wisely and keep the happiness flowing. </b></span><br />
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Imperfectly Perfect Creations...with Shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06429367890322987167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7202528372180798617.post-22419113795872744082014-09-11T09:11:00.000-07:002014-09-11T09:14:51.106-07:00In remembrance ... <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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My blogpost today was on a Happy topic. As I logged in, realize the date .. 9/11...<br />
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13 years gone by and yet the images come up like it was yesterday. I was at work, and I remember my colleague asking me.. what's your take on it? I asked him "what do you mean?" He asked, "you know, all the bombing etc?"<br />
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I thought to myself, do I need to have a take on this? And I realized, he is THE intern in the company .. the golden eyed kid that everyone loved. The intern that the rest of us interns had to compete with.<br />
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I told him; "I don't have any take on this. I have dealt and heard about religious warfare ever since I can remember. It is a feeling of violation and annoyance that I don't know how to put in words." <br />
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He had the quizzical look on his face. I grabbed my coffee and went back to my nook.<br />
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In remembrance of all that was lost and in honor of everyone who is doing their best to make this world a better place I invite you to listen to this talk on TED.com <a href="http://www.ted.com/talks/zak_ebrahim_i_am_the_son_of_a_terrorist_here_s_how_i_chose_peace/transcript?language=en" target="_blank">www.ted.com </a> It's about how one person chose peace in the most adverse situation. He was taught animosity and yet he found love and friendships. It is impressive and humbling.<br />
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Reaffirms the belief that life can spring in the most dire situations.<br />
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Imperfectly Perfect Creations...with Shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06429367890322987167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7202528372180798617.post-3896466555807322572014-09-04T22:32:00.003-07:002014-09-04T22:34:23.519-07:00India Rediscovered. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Going to India is not a vacation, it is an experience. An experience that moves you emotionally, intellectually, spiritually and sometimes even gastrically.</div>
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Taking our trip to India this year was beyond what I could have wished for. It was a trip that allowed us to visit India as a family, it allowed us to visit India with friends and most importantly, it allowed my children to discover India and make their own observations.</div>
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A typical trip back home is about hanging out with the grandparents and eating an assortment of yummies that are a delight to both the tongue and the tummy. This time though, we decided to do it a little differently. We decided to travel. The destinations were Mussoorie, in the foothills of Himalayas and to Mt. Abu, a hill station bordering the desert state of Rajasthan and the land of Gandhi, Gujarat. </div>
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More on these places in another post, first my undocked thoughts on rediscovering India. </div>
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After twenty two hours we land in India and find our way through the lines and edge towards the exit, the conversation goes;</div>
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<i>Kids: "Eww, what's that smell?"</i></div>
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<i>Me: "It's India." </i></div>
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<i>Kids: "You mean, India smells?" </i></div>
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<i>Me: "Yup." </i></div>
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We then spot the grandparents and we hug, and hug some more and after a debate on why it is still okay for us to push our bags through a storm of people, we find our way to the SUV and drive home. </div>
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Fast forward 5 weeks, we are back in US, we land in US and as we exit, the conversation goes;</div>
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<i>Me: "What do you smell?"</i></div>
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<i>Older kid: "Nothing."</i></div>
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<i>Younger kid: "I am tired, can we just go home." </i></div>
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<i>Me: "Exactly." </i></div>
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<i>Older kid: "What do you mean?" </i></div>
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<i>Me: "Remember, when we were exiting the airport at India, you noticed the smell, and I told you it is India." </i></div>
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<i>Older kid: "Ya, so?" </i></div>
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<i>Me: <b>"So, the point is, It is impossible to go to India and not notice it. India moves you in ways no other country in the world can move you."</b></i></div>
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<i>Older kid: stays silent. </i></div>
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<i>Younger kid: "Can we just go home? I don't see daddy, where is he?"</i></div>
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<i>Me: "Hold on, he is outside those big doors." </i></div>
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<b>India moves you. It is hard to visit India and come back indifferent. You are either going to hate it or love it. There is no middle emotion here.</b> <b>If you have never been to India, the "smell" of India is like the fusion of smog, fresh jasmine flowers being sold on the sidewalk, tea being brewed on the road stalls, cows crossing the intersections and in monsoons the secret ingredient in this vibrant potpourri is the smell of the first rain on the soil that has been heat baked for 3000+ years. </b></div>
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We drive through the freeways which as my kids observe are very nice and almost like US they tell me. </div>
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We arrive home, get pampered and days start rolling away. One evening, we were watching the news channel and came the second thought. I realized that while the Indian media covers everything USA, we in US, hear about India only when a major event is happening. Until recently Apu from Simpsons or Ravi from Jessie were the only thing India, the western kid knew. Good or bad, that's debatable. The lack of knowledge of the world around can be the source of knowledge of all things US and hence the country stands tall and proud. The lack of knowledge of the world around can also be responsible for the changing face of the global economies. </div>
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<b>India maybe old, but it is global. </b> <b>A country where every state is a country in itself has 18+ nationally recognized languages and yet boasts of the largest English speaking educated population. </b>So fear not, when you visit India, unlike France or Japan, every one there from the cab driver to the corporate executive will be able to communicate with you. </div>
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Our travels included being driven through the mountains and packed megapolis cities. We refrain from driving in India. Why? Well simply because we don't have the skill set needed. Skill set, yes!<b> It takes stellar driving skills to meander through a myriad of transportation entwined with cows and human beings crossing the road. For a bystander, it is total chaos. Fight this chaos, and you will be swept away. Flow with the chaos and you will reach your destination. India teaches one to be patient. </b> The patience in India has been a boon and a bane. Boon for it has allowed the country to thrive despite a century of slavery. Bane because it has taken the country decades to come of of its slavery mindset. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">The CDC warns you to not eat street food. But then that's where the flavors are<br />
This is corn being roasted on open fire coals in drizzling rain.<br />
The romance of this experience cannot be expressed in words.</td></tr>
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<b>India is a foodie heaven. Indian food is often considered synonymous to hot and spicy. I disagree! </b> Yes, we like it hot, but so do folks in Mexico or Schezwan. What makes Indian food unique is the amalgamation of different cultures and flavors. From the paleo diet of the Indus valley civilization to the chilli and potatoes introduced in India by th<b>e Portuguese, India accepted it all. The Mughals introduced India to the concept of "cooking is an art." Food in India today is a passionate love affair that has been simmering amongst the exotic spices for centuries now.</b> Interestingly it offers something for every diet. Vegetarians, vegans, gluten resistant diet, only meat diet, no dairy diet or just plain paleo; you name it and the cuisine has something for everyone readily available everyday in the street food stalls. No need to find expensive restaurants and request customization. <b>As long as you have the guts to try it, the food is there and it is awesome. </b></div>
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As we wrap up the first phase of the experience and get ready for the second. the third realization comes through, <b>it is still not safe to travel alone in India. It is sad, but true.</b> After hubby came back to US, I did venture out on a short vacation with my friends... mommy and kid thing. Every one who heard had the skeptical look on their face. While the look first confused me, in retrospect I now know why? <b>It doesn't happen very often in India that 5 moms decide to take their kids on vacation by themselves.</b> But we did and did well. The key is to use some common sense rules and stay away from trouble and stick with your guts. <b> </b></div>
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<b>The most interesting and funniest thing happened as we toured the sites of Mt. Abu with friends.. the mommy and kid thing. </b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGZuNQ62sjLSrh-SStqBnhUbxwJ4XE6I02EMsOiv_wIS-jfo4EvYb6ODQ6rXaLfrfWrMeOn4sDRDEHnGg6dJgm9Qbg9qoK9F3pSo0TVXPQ5O0Z2028SYnzzYbal63SAArg2BaZdj0q/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGZuNQ62sjLSrh-SStqBnhUbxwJ4XE6I02EMsOiv_wIS-jfo4EvYb6ODQ6rXaLfrfWrMeOn4sDRDEHnGg6dJgm9Qbg9qoK9F3pSo0TVXPQ5O0Z2028SYnzzYbal63SAArg2BaZdj0q/s1600/photo.JPG" height="200" width="150" /></a></div>
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Tired and with kids desperate to use the restroom (or washrooms) we enter Cafe Coffee Day ( Indian equivalent of Starbucks) only to find the sign "Out of order" on the restroom door. We frown and settle the kids, give their orders and as I was paying the bill, I start a conversation with the cashier. </div>
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<i>Me: "Why is the washroom closed?"</i></div>
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<i>Cashier: "No Mam, you can use it." </i></div>
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<i>Me: "But there is a sign.."</i></div>
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<i>Cashier: "Mam, that sign is there so that customers like you can use it." </i></div>
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<i>Me: (thinking in mind .. and wondering and then it hits me.) They have the sign there so everyone passing by does not use it.</i> </div>
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<b>It was brilliant. India thinks out of the box. </b></div>
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<b>India is a country of opposites. It is beautiful, muddy, magnanimous, heartless all in one breath. </b></div>
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<b>Traveling to this incredible stunning country is a far-fetched dream for the western world. </b></div>
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<b>Blessed am I for I was born there. </b></div>
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Imperfectly Perfect Creations...with Shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06429367890322987167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7202528372180798617.post-23574723378938909872014-08-28T11:27:00.002-07:002014-08-28T11:27:30.533-07:00IPC Essay Competition. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://imperfectlyperfectcreations.blogspot.com/2014/05/a-summer-contest.html" target="_blank">A summer contest</a> was designed to serve only one purpose: Let the kids write. It doesn't matter how strong ones vocabulary is, the goal was to just write and express your thoughts in words. Yes there were topics given to bring some structure and prizes to serve as the incentive. I applaud the two kids who made the commitment and kept it too. <b>To keep a promise made to self is key to success. </b> </div>
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The two submissions were for category 3, and interestingly they chose the same prompt: The world through my eyes. Since this is a public blog, I have kept the names hidden ( not sure of how their parents feel about their names on the internet) but the rest is a copy and paste as they had sent it to me. </div>
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They have very different writing styles, and yet a common theme emerges, the kids want a world where there is less chaos and more harmony. They want us to leave them a planet that is still liveable so they can enjoy it with their children. I guess there is a message in these esssays for us adults too. Like the native americans say: "We have borrowed this planet from our children." </div>
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While I will be mailing them their reward; $50/- Amazon gift certificates each. <b> There is no bigger reward for these kids but to hear from the readers. Please do take a moment to pause and give your opinion in the comments below. </b><br />
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I hope next year there will be more participants. </div>
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Read on and <b>let us work towards their vision of a better planet. </b></div>
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<b><u>Submission 1</u></b></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: "Apple Chancery"; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Grade: 6<sup>th</sup> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: "Apple Chancery"; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Essay prompt: The World through my eyes<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: "Apple Chancery"; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: 'Apple Chancery'; font-size: 17px;"> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: "Apple Chancery"; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><b><u>Boxing</u></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">
The sport boxing in my opinion is dangerous! The sport is very
harmful to humans and can damage their body. Boxing, a sport where 2 people
fight and try to knock each other out. Is allowed in some countries. I will
talk about the reasons why boxing is a bad sport, and should not be allowed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Fans can make an argument that the sport will encourage fitness,
and gives a chance for people to make money. But there is no doubt that boxing
allows physical contact, while encouraging it to their viewers. Kids may see
this sport on T.V and start boxing with their friends not knowing the dangers
of this sport. Critics believe that boxing is unacceptably dangerous and should
be banned. I also agree with these critics.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Boxing allows crazy blows to someone's body while fans cheer every time
their favorite hits the other. The game allows blows to the head which can
cause a concussion or worse. The game encourages the players to knock the other
player down. This game is very physical and should not be allowed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Professional boxing
encourages violence and the concept of becoming rich and famous through physical
aggression. I feel there are better ways to become rich & famous minus the violence.
This is why in my opinion boxing should be banned. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiojlMsSh2NRcCqSMRB_DLJkajWpKeJuGR3TmW4CgkFvYJ4DIB_CFGK3349L9q7eoVuU4wSKrEwKcrr_NWGblOGdI1JnyH8-3OxYEojy0TSm9Cd1Nc5KNdfKvw7XfRS4DRzVF6Imr_I/s1600/images-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiojlMsSh2NRcCqSMRB_DLJkajWpKeJuGR3TmW4CgkFvYJ4DIB_CFGK3349L9q7eoVuU4wSKrEwKcrr_NWGblOGdI1JnyH8-3OxYEojy0TSm9Cd1Nc5KNdfKvw7XfRS4DRzVF6Imr_I/s1600/images-1.jpeg" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1a1a1a; font-size: 17px;"><b><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></u></b></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1a1a1a; font-size: 17px;"><b><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></u></b></span>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1a1a1a; font-size: 17px;"><b><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Submission 2</span></u></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> <i> Finished 6th, Entering 7th (12years)</i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><i>Category 3</i></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><i>The world through my eyes </i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 22.0pt;"> <b><u> The World Through My Eyes</u></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">To </span><a href="mailto:bloggingtale@gmail.com"><span style="font-family: Arial;">bloggingtale@gmail.com</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial;">,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Hello, my name
is Jerry Joe, and I am from the year 2135. You may not believe me at all, but I
have created a virtual time machine that can send text, emails, or anything
requiring the Internet to a future or past time. I have sent you this email
because I need to warn you about the devastating tragedies that are happening
in my time. We neadrathoids (the next evolution of humans) are having an intense
war to decide which group (the tech, muscle, and brain team) gets to live in
the small amount of land left that has been depleted from global warming. Many
innocent civilians are suffering from chemical mutation, lack of nutritious food,
mutated animal attacks, and the icy cold water that is creeping upon us with new
and terrifying creatures living in it’s treacherous and petrifying waters. The
reason I am sending this information to this email at this time is because I
recalled from my childhood memories about how many people were interested in
entering and paying attention to this event, so if I could win this then I
could get people’s attention and show them what to do and what not to do to
keep planet Earth a good, safe place.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>This world has
become such a piece of rubbish in 2135 because of these inventions that we have
made that destroys the world but gives us great comfort. For example, cars give
us transportation to places quickly, but has a byproduct of producing carbon
monoxide. Trees usually breath chemicals like carbon monoxide, but trees are
deducing in population because humans are using it for paper. There is a saying
I made, “God creates nature, nature creates us, we destroy nature, nature tries
to kill us,” Why do you think that all these natural disasters have been
happening lately? This is because our smoke-pollution machines that keep us in
luxury are slowly destroying the earth and all it’s resources. This will
eventually lead to the end of us, which we can still stop. What I would like to
happen is when you or anyone is going somewhere ride a bike or walk. So the
world becomes less polluted. Also never waste anything like food, water, and
electricity. The extra water that drips from the faucet or the spoon of food left
on your plate some people would die to get.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another reason everyone is dying in my
time is because, in 2080, people stop caring about each other, which started
the war against the three groups. This war was nuclear, which caused all the
atrocious gases from going in the atmosphere starting the mutations of animals,
neadrathoids, and the killing of neadrathoids. So, to stop the war from
starting I need you to go out of your way to keep helping people. Whenever you
help someone, you have to tell them not to say thank you, but keep helping
people, and whenever you help someone tell them the same thing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">The last and final way you can help me
get my world back to normal is to keep working. In my world people are very
uneducated and live of the technology that your are using know. This is because
people think education isn’t important and doesn’t get you anywhere in life. This
horrible concept started when I was just six, the same year that you are in
now. America and several other countries were dropping in test scores, and more
people were becoming homeless. I need all the kids, even adults, to keep
learning. It doesn’t matter when or where, but always keep learning. This will
help you have an abundance of general knowledge always keeping you at your
peak.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">All of the people that read this essay
please follow the regulations I have stated, because it will greatly benefit
the future. If you do help my world, the neadrathoids will flourish and thrive,
eating healthy food, having as much land as they could dream of having, and
best of all everyone would finally work like a well-oiled machine once again.
For the kids that are reading this email, you may not want to do this for me,
but at least do it for you. Most of you will be living this disaster when you
grow up, so if you want to live a happy life, please follow my suggestions.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Imperfectly Perfect Creations...with Shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06429367890322987167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7202528372180798617.post-9996741168246421292014-08-14T21:51:00.002-07:002014-08-14T21:51:14.949-07:00O Mother Mine. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hello, Namastey, Hola: </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hope you are having a wonderful summer and making the best of it. The blog returns this week and just in time of August 15th - India's Independence Day. Having just returned from India, thought it would be apt to start the blog with this tribute. Yes I am biased, love the poet, but the poem is also very apt for India. It was written in 1993, when India was going through brain drain and today it is role reversal. The poet's vision coming true. Enjoy. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Happy Independence Day India. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Oh, Mother Mine</b></span></div>
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- <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Avinash Verma. </span></div>
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Oh, Mother mine,</div>
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Land of Ancient skies</div>
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I remember the days of your gayfull abundance</div>
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When you danced with joy in the company of your sons</div>
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Oh, how pretty you looked, magnificent decked in gold</div>
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Your silken robes fluttered to caress your skin</div>
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And beautiful diamonds shone from every place.</div>
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Oh, Mother mine,</div>
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Now those days are gone</div>
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Armies from far away foreign lands</div>
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Hearing the tales of your beauty and wealth</div>
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Came to plunder your precious wealth</div>
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But Mother mine; your heart was pure gold</div>
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You gave away your treasures galore</div>
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Some came and left, some came and stayed</div>
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But you welcomed them all with open arms</div>
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Some ridiculed your ways; some loved you dear</div>
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But you treated them all with your endless love.</div>
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But Mother mine, now you lay in gross neglect,</div>
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Your robes are tarnished, your diamonds gone</div>
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Your health is foul; your skin is dead</div>
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Your sons have abandoned you, for they have seen newer lands</div>
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Every day millions leave your shore</div>
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In search of lands far galore</div>
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The ones, who stay, build houses on your grave</div>
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They have forgotten the things you said of love, of honesty and of honor and all.</div>
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The land that gave birth to civilization, is today forgotten by all</div>
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Oh, Mother they have removed your name from the halls of fame</div>
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No longer to travelers flock to your shore</div>
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I know you long for your sons in foreign lands</div>
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They come to visit you, but only for a while</div>
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You rush to embrace them with tears in your eyes, but they turn away</div>
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I guess they have seen better lands,</div>
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You are too foul for them Mother, you hold no charm</div>
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They say you are too old, now, its time to move on</div>
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But Mother mine, as now I sit in tears by your side, I realize</div>
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Since when has a mother been bad for her child</div>
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Is she not but a reflection of her child</div>
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This world is strange Mother; I sit here in a daze</div>
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As your children blame you for their woes and despair</div>
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Oh, Mother mine, cry but do not despair</div>
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The lone live child at the end of the warfare, gave birth to a new nation</div>
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In the midst of despair there was hope</div>
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Thy tears are not wasted; there are some who love you still</div>
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You will again see glory days; you will again be alive</div>
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The world that mocks you now, will revere you then</div>
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Your ways will be understood, your sons will return home</div>
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Your love is supreme; it will win everyone again</div>
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When we play again, in gayfull abundance,</div>
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That day my Mother: I long to see.</div>
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- Avinash Verma (1993) </div>
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Imperfectly Perfect Creations...with Shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06429367890322987167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7202528372180798617.post-55066514121407615372014-06-05T22:10:00.003-07:002014-06-05T22:10:46.691-07:00The Carnival of Friendships.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I am behind in posting the blog. Sorry! Thank you to all who check in with me every Thursday and remind me to keep going.<br />
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Last two months have been amazing and very busy. Amazing because a husband-wife team at school decided to become the chairs for the school carnival and asked if I wanted to join the team. They had just one condition, it had to be the best carnival the school and the community had ever seen. Their enthusiasm was infectious and I joined the team.<br />
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We then found five new members for different tasks and together the team created the vision: A carnival that celebrates the community we live in. Our theme: Hawaiian. Come on, its CA, and California does not think beyond Hawaii and Mexico :) <br />
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Long story short, it was "THE EVENT" of the year. The most amazing carnival the school had seen. After 1000+ visitors and 6 hours of fun and laughter, we took a sigh of relief and thanked our stars secretly for it ran like a well oiled machine.<br />
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Personally to me, few things popped out besides the success of the carnival.<br />
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First, it is true; <b>leadership can make or break a team</b>. This was a voluntary event and effort. There were no performance appraisals and paychecks attached, yet for the team leadership to hold hands and find solutions was the extra step that walked us to success.<br />
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Second, friendships can spring in the most unknown circumstances. I met some new parents in a high stress environment. We all had our targets. Mine was to be the "on-call ATM machine." Every time an activity got added, we needed more cash :) And thankfully some one up there was watching out for me, cash flowed in. The tickets team had the target of selling 800 tickets at the minimum. We found two pretty girls :) who not only sold the tickets but did it so efficiently that not a dime was lost. An event such as this cannot run with 8 pairs of hands, we needed at the minimum hundred pairs of hands to make this happen. In comes our volunteer manager, a new parent to school, she did not know too many parents and yet she made it happen with sheer persistence and dedication. In addition to this we had team members effortlessly managing the heavy equipments, concessions and more.<br />
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Through all this I know I made some good memories and found some good friends. I hope they feel the same way :)<br />
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Last but not the least, realized that community is an amazing thing. When tapped the right way, it comes together to support and makes the impossible, possible.<br />
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That is exactly what this carnival was. When we started the journey, we said to ourselves, we will be lucky if we can sell 500 tickets, we will be lucky if we can find 1 corporate sponsor, we will be lucky if we can find 10 vendors to come host booths. Well, we sold 1000+ tickets, found 3 corporate sponsors and 20 vendors.<br />
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<b>The community belief and support motivated us to do more and take it to the best level possible</b>.<br />
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Dedicating this blog in honor of the amazing people I have met in the last two months. </div>
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<b>Oh, if you think I am bragging.. you know what they say, "if you've done it, it ain't braggin." </b></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: x-large;">Be the "<i>Aloha</i>" you wish to be!</span></b></div>
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Imperfectly Perfect Creations...with Shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06429367890322987167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7202528372180798617.post-22378896293668424152014-05-22T13:25:00.003-07:002014-05-22T13:25:53.457-07:00The C word! <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I am not talking about the 174th episode of House or the words our kids are forbidden to say. I am talking about the new C word.. a word that I have been hearing very often for the past year now. It is what the doctors call the uncontrolled growth of abnormal cells in our body. Abnormal cells, what are they anyway and quite honestly I don't care. </div>
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I am just tired of the C word occurring in the lives of people I know. It's been an ongoing process for the past year now.. every two months I find out. Good, honest people. People who pay their bills, say their prayers, work hard, love hard and laugh out loud so often and yet they have to deal with C word called Cancer. I just don't get it. </div>
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This blogpost is dedicated to all those who are fighting this disease, with two people I know in particular. A cousin and a friend. More than reading this, <b>I want you to keep them and their families in your prayers and I am hoping that with the collective global prayers, the gods of the world will be forced to wave their magic wands and make this disease go away. </b> </div>
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If you are wondering, Yes I do believe Santa Claus. </div>
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<b>To them who are fighting, all I want to say is: </b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You are rare and unique</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You inspire me daily</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You make me laugh with your funny posts and messages</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You are full of energy and radiate positivity like no other I know. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have no doubt that you will conquer this with your sheer drive</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I know for a fact that you will thrive. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It is a fight I know, but you are strong and your energy is limitless. Cancer cannot touch your soul, it cannot cripple the love around you, it cannot change the friendships you have built and it cannot take away your courage and strength. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>ALWAYS REMEMBER You are going to Live to Win! </b> </span></div>
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Imperfectly Perfect Creations...with Shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06429367890322987167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7202528372180798617.post-75290649837688362662014-05-15T13:10:00.003-07:002014-05-15T20:26:08.626-07:00A Summer Contest. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Today's blog is a summer essay contest. </div>
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<b>Calling all kids ages 5-12 who love to day dream or think out of the box. You DO NOT need to be an A+ writer to write this eassay. This blog really does not care about how strong your vocabulary is. The only requirement is stick to the theme and have the correct grammar and spellings. </b></div>
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Before we go further, I do want to clarify that I am not doing this to encourage my kid to write more. In the world of volunteering, I am often faced with the situation where folks think, the effort is so my kids can benefit. It is quite the contrary. If anything, my kids get the tail end of it all. My younger one is too young to write an essay, she might draw. The older one is doing relatively well in writing and he may not be in the top 2% of his age, but is definitely in the top 10% and we are happy to see him thrive. So this is not for my kids alone. In fact I am not even sure if they will participate. <b>If they do, I promise their entries will be judged by others and not myself. </b></div>
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<b>Why I am I doing this?</b> The idea came to me last nite as I was chopping cabbage for the salad. Funny how and when ideas creep in. But I fell in love with the thought, ran it by my trusted partner and here I am posting it online. </div>
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The idea took shape last nite, but I think it has been brewing in my head for 7 years now.. ever since I started volunteering in school. The more I volunteered, the more I realized of the lack of enriching programs for kids who are not exactly what the academic world calls A+ students. All clubs, all contests are geared towards kids who can read, write and add well. What about those who have brilliant ideas, but don't have the best writing skills or can't add fast enough? Don't get me wrong, I do understand the need for parents wanting their kids to succeed and do as well as the neighbors child and if possible, do better, <b>but in all this, I see a whole population of kids being left out. </b></div>
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<b>So, this is my two cents to provide an opportunity to kids of all shapes and talents. If you know of a child who has some amazing ideas, creativity but is shy to express it, then encourage them to send in an entry. The contest is also open to all A+ students too.</b><br />
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<b>The judging is for creativity and out of the box thinking. There are no points for high vocabulary words :) </b></div>
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<b><u>CONTEST GUIDELINES: </u></b></div>
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1) A child can participate irrespective of how good or not good their writing grades are. </div>
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2) Age limit 5-12. If he/she is 12+ but not 13 yet.. that's okay too :) If he/she is just finishing up 6th grade and entering 7th.. they can post in the Category 3. </div>
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3) <b>No high vocabularly words necessary. I don't think people should be penalized because they didn't memorize the english dictionary in their schooling years. But yes correct grammar and spelling is needed because in today's world it is as easy as doing a grammar and spell check. </b></div>
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4) The essay can be handwritten or typed. If handwritten, please email a clear legible scanned pdf copy.<br />
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No poems. I wish I could.. but unfortunately elementary kids are not trained to read or write poems and there are few who have a natural talent. It would so be unfair to others. </div>
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<b><u>ESSAY PROMPTS:</u> Please note these are PROMPTS and NOT TOPICS. The child can title their essay as they please. Choose ONE prompt. </b><br />
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<b><u>Submit all entries to: bloggingtale@gmail.com</u></b></div>
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When submitting an entry, In addition to your name, a contact email, please state the grade and essay prompt in the top right corner. </div>
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<b>I) The world through my eyes. </b></div>
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<b>II) If I could change two things in the elementary school, they would be... </b></div>
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<b>( Try not to think about technology, books, libraries, PE etc.. think out of the box. If you had the opportunity to re-design the way schools are, the way teaching is done .. what would you do?) </b></div>
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<b>III) Technology, parents and me. </b></div>
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<u style="font-weight: bold;">JUDGING CRITERIA: </u> The ideas can be fictional. If they are.. try to lead the reader towards understanding how this day can be a reality soon. </div>
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For instance, if you dream of a world where people live for 200 years, it may not be a reality today, but it is definitely possible. If you dream of a world where people will go back to being monkey's.. that is a little too fictional. But a world where a catastrophic element can wipe of out the entire human species, and the earth regenerates itself - that is possible. </div>
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<b>Out of the Box thinking : 80%</b></div>
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<b>Grammar/Spelling : 20%</b></div>
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<b><u>JUDGES</u>: Total three. They might be HS students or adults. Will post names once I have approval from them. </b></div>
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<b><u>PRIZES:</u> 3 prizes $100/- value. One prize each for the three categories below. </b></div>
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<b>Category 1: K - 1st</b></div>
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<b>Category 2: 2nd - 3rd</b></div>
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<b>Category 3: 4th - 6th. </b></div>
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<b><u>DEADLINE for Submission: July 31st, 2014. </u></b></div>
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<b><u>Results Announced on: Sept 1st, 2014.</u></b></div>
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<b>Feel free to pass this on to any student you know and would like to participate. There are no geographic boundaries.</b><u> </u>So if you have a nephew in India, that is perfectly fine too. Technology has reduced barriers, and the prizes will be sent across too :) </div>
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Looking forward to reading all the amazing ideas the younger generation has. </div>
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Imperfectly Perfect Creations...with Shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06429367890322987167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7202528372180798617.post-19558348528966122162014-05-08T20:57:00.002-07:002014-05-08T20:57:48.141-07:0025 and counting joys of Motherhood. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
As Mother's day approaches, and I hear the repeated question, any plans for Mother's day? I decide to pen down a few myths that were shattered and few realities that were learnt in this journey called "Motherhood."<br />
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1. The phrase "sleeping like a baby" does not mean sleeping peacefully. <b>It means waking up every few minutes. </b><br />
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2. When a baby cries, yes by all means look at the check list the doctor gave you; feed, burp, change diaper.<br />
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Baby still crying: Rock him, take him for a walk in the stroller.<br />
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But baby still crying: Call the doctor and go down the check list. Baby continues to cry. Doctor says "its okay sometimes they have to release the energy." You are thinking, seriously, he's been crying for a while now. And then the light bulb turns on and you hold the baby close to you and lie down on the bed. Magically the little one stops crying and you both sleep.<br />
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For your baby: <b>YOU KNOW BEST. Listen to the maternal instincts. It is nature's gift to every new mom. </b><br />
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<b>I salute this mom who listened to her heart and not the doctor: <a href="http://news.distractify.com/people/a-clinically-dead-baby-was-revived-by-his-mothers-touch-and-doctors-cant-explain-it/?v=1" target="_blank">A mother's touch defies Science</a></b><br />
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3. <b>"Colic" is a word that pediatricians do not like.</b> Why? Because they don't know why it happens, or how to stop it. Hang in there.. it takes any where from 10-12 weeks, and the colic switch will turn off. Until then .. just hang in there :) Just as an FYI, white noises work like magic for colic babies. <br />
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4. Some where around 3 months, your baby will give you that look. The look that only you will understand, <b>it will be the confirmation that "yes I recognize you Mom." Cherish that look for it will warm your heart for years to come. </b><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6g61O9B6fXuFPdsTxyK_DwcPadpRHkFkXQ4iSWPlwoh4YLZrSzvmj1fzNhCXa3wM3UdiYpogPH1Dp2fWlJgT0VpsGsZdd7UmTChUXcvXFrcxZFlEas6poVMTO1x7mj9TfBgK578rp/s1600/images-21.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6g61O9B6fXuFPdsTxyK_DwcPadpRHkFkXQ4iSWPlwoh4YLZrSzvmj1fzNhCXa3wM3UdiYpogPH1Dp2fWlJgT0VpsGsZdd7UmTChUXcvXFrcxZFlEas6poVMTO1x7mj9TfBgK578rp/s1600/images-21.jpeg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Think like a baby: <br />Spilled milk is definitely worth a cry</td></tr>
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5. <b>Every time you are on the phone either a bowl of cereal or a cup of milk will fall on the floor. </b><br />
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6. The baby is a toddler now.. all problems solved for its an independent age. But wait, there's potty training. <b>If you have a boy, look before you go for boys cannot aim.</b> So stock up on wipes, cleaners and gloves. You will be cleaning a lot. If you have a daughter, stock up on scented hand soap and lotion.<br />
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7. Yippee... No more diaper bags. You go shopping for a pretty purse, only to realize it does not hold the mini first aid kit, the sippy cup, the small snack, your wallet etc. So <b>Instead of finding a purse that works like a bag - Find a bag that works like a purse. </b><br />
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8. Band aids: yes the jumbo packs are a cost saver.. but they are plain old boring band-aids. <b>Character bandaids make the tears go away faster. Invest in them. </b><br />
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9. <b>Everytime crayons, Playdoh, bubbles go on sale. Stock up. </b><br />
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10. <b>Empty boxes make the best toys. Stop waisting money on those fancy electronics :) </b><br />
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<b>Wow, the baby is now in KINDER. YIPPEEE.... </b><br />
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11. <b>I am so lucky, my kid loves doing homework and is so excited about school... and this changes to "can I just sleep for 5 more minutes. what's the big deal about getting tardy, it is just a piece of paper," in one month. </b><br />
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The excitement of going to school and being a big kid wears off as soon as the reality of being big hits them :)<br />
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12. <b>Lamaze: you didn't remember it when you were delivering, but now you are an expert.</b> Use those techniques during homework time, every time you are scrambling to get to school on time and basically through out the day :)<br />
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13: <b>Take selfies with your child. Y</b>ou will be reminded of the down hill trend; but 10 years from now, you will be amazed at how good you looked.<br />
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<b>The baby is evolving into an mini adult: </b><br />
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14. "Mom, I am a big kid now, I can do this now." <b>And then when they really need to do it on their own, it's a memory lapse and the skills magically disappear. </b><br />
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15. Conversation with a miniature adult is more about listening than talking. I am learning this the hard way. His doctor recently asked me. <b>Does he like sharing with you? I said, well sometimes, when he is that mood.. Brilliant answer right ;). The doctor was brilliant too.. he said, well try to find him in that mood . </b> Jokes apart.. these little adults need a hearing ear. Just keep listening..<br />
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16a. For moms with sons; sprains and fractures are a moment of pride. They will be big babies in your arms, but outside it is all about "Dude, I heard the bone crack."<br />
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<b>Don't return the crutches, the sling or the splint. Hold on to them, you will need them again. </b><br />
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16b<b>. </b>For moms with daughters; yes the world wants the pinks to be replaced by blues and browns, but if your daughter loves pink and Barbie, it is okay. <b> Take pride in the fact that your daughter is celebrating her femininity. Nurture this trait and soon you will have a daughter who can twirl a skirt and shoot hoops with equal ease. </b><br />
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17. <b>The older they get the lesser they care about going to "tourist" spots with their parents. It's then about discovering the world. Humans are natural wanderers. Let them satisfy the thirst to discover. Take them to places they haven't seen. Let them see how the world moves without Wifi or how people live with bare minimum. It is these experiences that will help them thrive as adults. </b><br />
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18. Pick your battles. You will win very few. <b>Pick only those that you know you are going to win. </b><br />
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19. When something can go wrong, it will. So even though they are older and almost adults, <b>You are still the MOM, so plan and fill in the gaps when you need to. Murphys's Law.. one of the few things I heard in school that actually hold true. </b><br />
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20. Yes, your child will think you are over-protective or even embarrassing. It's hard but try not to care. <b>They will come back.</b><br />
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21. <b>Always, always remember to checkin with your girlfriends. If you have a squabble pick up the phone and say sorry. </b><br />
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22. There will be blah days and the head-spinning days. There will be days when they will forget to ask if you had dinner or not. No matter what, try hard to not go<b> the self-pity route, you are only hurting yourself. The world will keep moving. </b><br />
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23. You can listen to your doctor, your mother, your mother-in-law, the other perfect moms, but at the end do what you think is best. <b>You will become a mother only by being one. </b><br />
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24.<b> There is no such thing as a perfect mother, so stop being so hard on yourself. </b><br />
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25. On Mother's day your friends will Face book pictures of the amazing breakfast their kids made for them and pampered them. <b> Don't judge your happiness by theirs. </b><br />
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If your kids woke up and asked you to make breakfast, did not remember till later in the afternoon that it was Mother's day and then asked you what was for lunch<b>. Smile! </b><b>It is a luxury to have breakfast in bed, but</b> <b>it is a blessing to be able to get up and make breakfast for these beings that you have nurtured with love and care. </b> Chances are they like your cooking better than anyone, and so never bothered to learn either :) Soon, they will fly away to find their own nests. Until then pamper them. <b>It is these warm and caring moments that they will come back too. </b><br />
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Mother's day is not just one day. It happens every day a mother packs lunch for her kids. It happens every day a mother hugs her child. It happens every day a mother makes the wrong go right.<br />
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<b>Mother's day is 365 days of the year. It just so happens that we choose to celebrate it once a year. </b><br />
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<b>HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY! </b><br />
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Imperfectly Perfect Creations...with Shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06429367890322987167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7202528372180798617.post-6708769589153935192014-04-30T20:45:00.000-07:002014-04-30T20:50:10.851-07:00The Big Little Man. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">His head was round and stature short. His shoulders were broad and he walked with his head held high. His moustache reminded me of Charlie Chaplin and his calm made me happy. I called him Papaji, and the world called him Dr. G.R Sachdev. He was my Nanaji (maternal grandfather.) </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Born 96 years ago, he was illness free and strong as a mule with an unshakeable belief in all things good. Life threw him quite a few twists and turns and yet he never uttered a foul word. A few weeks ago he moved on to a world where the angels and his wife of 60 years reside. He was and will always continue to be an inspiration of an honest simple life, well lived. Most kids are lucky if they can bond with one or two of their grandparents. I have been blessed to have actually lived with all four of my grandparents during childhood. I spent my tweenage with both sets of my paternal and maternal grandparents. Papaji taught me how to live life in a positive way. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As an 11 year old I remember waking up to his saintly chants at 5.30am and covering my head with as many pillows as I could. I remember the walks and feeding the ducks. I asked him, "why do you feed them every day?" He said, "some of them are my ancestors," and I remember looking at him quizzically. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Papaji was a man of little words. He didn't say much but what he said was always meaningful. Today as he continues his journey into another world, leaving us behind to think and ponder about all he taught. I realized that most of my life beliefs came from his quotes. He was an ardent admirer of Saint Kabir and his verses. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Every time I said something wrong as a tween, he would recite: </span></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>"Aisee Vani Boliye, Mun Ka Aapa Khoye</b></span></i></div>
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>Apna Tan Sheetal Kare, Auran Ko Sukh Hoye"</b></span></i><br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>Translation: Speak such words, sans ego's ploy</b></span></i></div>
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>Body remains composed, giving the listener joy</b></span></i><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">While reciting he didn't necessarily look at me or talk to me. He would many a times be a totally different room and pretend to be talking to himself. Always staying away from confrontations, he believed in the simple fact, that when one believes in God, it all eventually falls into place. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Born almost a century ago, he may have been little in stature, but he had a very big heart and was progressive in his thinking. While his generation prayed for sons, he took pride in his three daughters and two sons. He believed in education and gave good quality education to all his five children thus allowing them to thrive as independent adults. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Age and Father time don't stop for anyone. We can be as young at heart as we desire, but there comes a time when this machinery starts clucking and clanking. He has been with us for so long, I never thought he would go away. And partially that's his fault, he always said, I have an agreement with God, "I want to complete my century before I go." And we would smile and say not only century, beyond that because you need to see your great - grandkids get married too; and he would then throw his hands up, rub his bald head and laugh loudly. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sending him off has been very hard. Maybe because he was the last of the grandparents to go. Every time a grandparent goes away, so does a stream of unbiased blessings. Yes, it is selfish, but I miss those blessings. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDJKEWYPdXgrVUbFKk7EJ1UIu2c2ASVtN1eDXhvtsNazuYzVvnNmfokFw9Q9noVNyiWLQs7MKZ1gmtXtAeTxu3N3fUKDpGmMAXxVBWTtOcsVoP2L722GsJzva0g6gOfY0p6R88AQ-l/s1600/photo+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDJKEWYPdXgrVUbFKk7EJ1UIu2c2ASVtN1eDXhvtsNazuYzVvnNmfokFw9Q9noVNyiWLQs7MKZ1gmtXtAeTxu3N3fUKDpGmMAXxVBWTtOcsVoP2L722GsJzva0g6gOfY0p6R88AQ-l/s1600/photo+3.JPG" height="200" width="150" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">For some little girls, it is their dad who tastes the first dish they cook but for me it was my Papaji. I had made bharta and roti. Bharta was not even close to being good and roti was not circular and yet he ate it and gave me a prize too :) I like to think that's why every time he came over he looked forward to what I was cooking. Any time he came to stay with me, he wanted Gobi ka Parantha and Diet Coke. Yes, he loved Diet Coke. If we would leave him unsupervised, he would gulp down the 2 liter in minutes :) </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He was a stickler for time and schedule and believed: </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><b>"Waqt bahut balwan hota hain...Pal mein Shehanshah, pal mein rank" </b></i></span></div>
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<i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Translation: Time is very powerful. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One minute you are the king, the next a servant." </span></b></i></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I learnt how to respect time at a very young age from him and to date do not appreciate those who keep others waiting. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Funny how we listen when they are gone." </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">With every new memory comes a fresh tear. Today as hard as it is, I am bidding him farewell. He will always be alive to me. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">His life and its journey through it re-affirms my belief in the circle of life. He lived his prime years in India, spent his senior years around the globe with his children and in his final phase, life magically whisked him across the seven seas to India. He passed away in the same place where once he bid farewell to his beloved wife. With that his life completed its full circle. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Papaji, you were and are beyond all of us; continue to be the fiercely independent honest big little man that you are. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Here's another one of your favorites: </span></div>
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<i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 28px;"><span style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; list-style-image: initial; list-style-position: initial; list-style-type: none; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">"Maati kahe kumhaar se, Tu kyun rondhe moye….</span></span></span></b></i></div>
<i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 28px;"><span style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; list-style-image: initial; list-style-position: initial; list-style-type: none; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Ik din aisa aayega, Main rondhungi toyeee….</span></span></span></b></i><br />
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<i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 28px;"><span style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; list-style-image: initial; list-style-position: initial; list-style-type: none; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br /></span></span></span></b></i></div>
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<i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 28px;"><span style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; list-style-image: initial; list-style-position: initial; list-style-type: none; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">"</span></span></span></b></i><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 28px;"><span style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; list-style-image: initial; list-style-position: initial; list-style-type: none; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Translation: </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 28px;">“Soil says to potter, why do you crush me. One day will come, when i will crush you ”<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmUY54alLWhVxUzQ30Oh7jGYdtnxlRO7SwEndIBqbYyiIbSDwnm-RjHehBSw_iK7ng6x4CV-JoNKTaDSb8oQp6P_ymCvgMzzaITg2fO8_9nKy3mhMexR_oKZs_zvyC7zKdj-sKbq9w/s1600/photo+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmUY54alLWhVxUzQ30Oh7jGYdtnxlRO7SwEndIBqbYyiIbSDwnm-RjHehBSw_iK7ng6x4CV-JoNKTaDSb8oQp6P_ymCvgMzzaITg2fO8_9nKy3mhMexR_oKZs_zvyC7zKdj-sKbq9w/s1600/photo+1.JPG" height="195" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This Gobi Parantha is for you Papaji. Have fun and continue to celebrate .. the sounds of Sukhmani and the brilliance of St. Kabir couplets will now liven up the heavens too. And, oh.. say Hi to Naniji for all of us. We love you. </td></tr>
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Imperfectly Perfect Creations...with Shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06429367890322987167noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7202528372180798617.post-56255832985221682832014-04-23T23:32:00.004-07:002014-04-23T23:36:34.180-07:00Picto Blog _ Point Arena Lighthouse, Mendocino County, CA<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Once again, we decided to stay away from the crowds and go to a lesser known destination and enjoyed our spring break. </div>
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Mendocino County, CA is not unknown. It is famous for its quaint artsy downtown and fabulous eateries… but we skipped it all to go to the <a href="http://www.pointarenalighthouse.com/" target="_blank">Point Arena Lighthouse, CA</a></div>
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Approximately a 4 hour drive further north from the bay area, the light house marks the end of continental USA. You can use the GPS blindly only to end up on the treacherous Mountain View Road or read up the maps and take 101 followed by either 1 or 128. </div>
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US 1, is windy but so is 128. The advantage of US 1, its much more travelled and it's more alive. If you decide to take 128, please do not take the Mountain view road, take 128 and then take US 1 to Point Arena Lighthouse. Plan so you are at your destination during day light hours. </div>
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You're probably wondering why not take the route to the hotel first and then the lighthouse, well, because that's a little known secret of this place. The lighthouse has cabins right next to it. The cabins are not inexpensive, but they are well worth the price and the experience is unlike any other. </div>
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I hope you enjoy this trip. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLbwvs1-LLN1NuvoK18o8xpZYywcBgxithek7rTMw3ZyfRz_5C4KW3yR2mf55ltGz7CyHB29N6pmwDn9VzzaweD-MnsPv_lEefPDjHIUeRM3D1P2Iw7hbWKyn-b9jGxu-4oYx0agP_/s1600/IMG_6683.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLbwvs1-LLN1NuvoK18o8xpZYywcBgxithek7rTMw3ZyfRz_5C4KW3yR2mf55ltGz7CyHB29N6pmwDn9VzzaweD-MnsPv_lEefPDjHIUeRM3D1P2Iw7hbWKyn-b9jGxu-4oYx0agP_/s1600/IMG_6683.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As we wound our way via 128</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh0oaFQZtIPZCOqLmVOyDcqJ4ZwPZ2fvaxbp5PRG7Vssxv7NcPKdybvJU6BB7oEUXJeh0WSPVZjB8USHrtdBC1BZ1ogvyLV3RCrP-REfwy2gYeWC1sjLCVm_oQ9HX7gs26l948vhbe/s1600/IMG_6690.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh0oaFQZtIPZCOqLmVOyDcqJ4ZwPZ2fvaxbp5PRG7Vssxv7NcPKdybvJU6BB7oEUXJeh0WSPVZjB8USHrtdBC1BZ1ogvyLV3RCrP-REfwy2gYeWC1sjLCVm_oQ9HX7gs26l948vhbe/s1600/IMG_6690.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Once you take US 1 after 128, you will come across this random stop light. Please don't break the law.<br />
It looks kind of crazy to have a stop light when there is no traffic, but this is a one way road for now. We stood here for 2 minutes :) </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg14C40BhJyhQHZQk_8FGl2EXtcR9ZyZQv9jiYktpJ1sQvkI1KckLduiIczfUnO72i0DuIGAg3n6sDtlWTU0K2Yq6AVPxvCljXbx_-fnzCa7Gopz29gkKf4Fs5LdMxHA78PhVrR_veL/s1600/IMG_6708.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg14C40BhJyhQHZQk_8FGl2EXtcR9ZyZQv9jiYktpJ1sQvkI1KckLduiIczfUnO72i0DuIGAg3n6sDtlWTU0K2Yq6AVPxvCljXbx_-fnzCa7Gopz29gkKf4Fs5LdMxHA78PhVrR_veL/s1600/IMG_6708.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view as we entered the restricted light house area. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtqKD7FxpCQ40C6pYqRPKsPienkdArb9EN1E3XSthR5gLsU4ptwAByOKiEFUv1_mtcnk_OxF7pfq7yiTYdui4FmZKD6sElyM0nxTyfvaPUZdOgP6g6fs3BYHNODY1ivpVazkb5EhsD/s1600/IMG_6705.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtqKD7FxpCQ40C6pYqRPKsPienkdArb9EN1E3XSthR5gLsU4ptwAByOKiEFUv1_mtcnk_OxF7pfq7yiTYdui4FmZKD6sElyM0nxTyfvaPUZdOgP6g6fs3BYHNODY1ivpVazkb5EhsD/s1600/IMG_6705.JPG" height="152" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And then we were blown away by this. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzIzkpLZ_g2EuYzcjswuABPZvCr1Zf4RbwbIFldKlilGs_6M0dHEF3URw3oMuou00rp47VBpR78fzOO_XXjjI6gWzFrT3xk-EvcZPGkTD7VqNmpUP0jEiicxF_cSw8TH_b41s_v81K/s1600/IMG_6701.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzIzkpLZ_g2EuYzcjswuABPZvCr1Zf4RbwbIFldKlilGs_6M0dHEF3URw3oMuou00rp47VBpR78fzOO_XXjjI6gWzFrT3xk-EvcZPGkTD7VqNmpUP0jEiicxF_cSw8TH_b41s_v81K/s1600/IMG_6701.jpg" height="400" width="310" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Point Arena Light House standing tall and proud. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy3XcPRB3hJSFs8p869d0F1tUg-qx0gcvENIf-YUXeFtBKozWrajU7vO-nQaMOzt_559FTOBVWgX23R_BFnI8ZGIrPgZRvsW-HymOIIPxd_yPXtptxSwUHa8Uq-xKe-6GKmICphSYy/s1600/IMG_6709.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy3XcPRB3hJSFs8p869d0F1tUg-qx0gcvENIf-YUXeFtBKozWrajU7vO-nQaMOzt_559FTOBVWgX23R_BFnI8ZGIrPgZRvsW-HymOIIPxd_yPXtptxSwUHa8Uq-xKe-6GKmICphSYy/s1600/IMG_6709.JPG" height="206" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I stood for a very long time at this intersection, just staring at the ocean. It was mesmerizing and very calming. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgy8XNqzk1nSnpJugtMA4Am0Gt4BhofNttCM-CqkiO3i394sT0mkzwpV3Ehv4PYUzXgZanPnoNBzb9-8IO4FNxwNrNS_K5UcusE-CfDkMpInJ1jxWjqTkve7WZkw9RDAUxq1mBV2wX/s1600/IMG_6693.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgy8XNqzk1nSnpJugtMA4Am0Gt4BhofNttCM-CqkiO3i394sT0mkzwpV3Ehv4PYUzXgZanPnoNBzb9-8IO4FNxwNrNS_K5UcusE-CfDkMpInJ1jxWjqTkve7WZkw9RDAUxq1mBV2wX/s1600/IMG_6693.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Complimentary Wine :) Happens only in CA. </td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy3XcPRB3hJSFs8p869d0F1tUg-qx0gcvENIf-YUXeFtBKozWrajU7vO-nQaMOzt_559FTOBVWgX23R_BFnI8ZGIrPgZRvsW-HymOIIPxd_yPXtptxSwUHa8Uq-xKe-6GKmICphSYy/s1600/IMG_6709.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy3XcPRB3hJSFs8p869d0F1tUg-qx0gcvENIf-YUXeFtBKozWrajU7vO-nQaMOzt_559FTOBVWgX23R_BFnI8ZGIrPgZRvsW-HymOIIPxd_yPXtptxSwUHa8Uq-xKe-6GKmICphSYy/s1600/IMG_6709.JPG" height="206" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I stood here for a very long time mesmerize and at peace. </td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnEZfkYqnDdvvrE1q1TRhbssvZKWnOgW49Fe5Nfx6ava5Hw0w_II31Z7nFb5MWxSPMqMwcbpkLJlyqvgeVsvJi87uaSkGBBhmvH4OOmjo7nwdgdR_xwXbmhwXFFfIwhyBzHYmE52q3/s1600/IMG_0093.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnEZfkYqnDdvvrE1q1TRhbssvZKWnOgW49Fe5Nfx6ava5Hw0w_II31Z7nFb5MWxSPMqMwcbpkLJlyqvgeVsvJi87uaSkGBBhmvH4OOmjo7nwdgdR_xwXbmhwXFFfIwhyBzHYmE52q3/s1600/IMG_0093.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Birds of the same feather flock together. </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfo8WoHLsY-K-mQcA70Lr9O2on6bRK-k3Uzgf8nduYhxGKppEr0sBSgYKlE4zzoc9IvKuwP6L6wb46eD-2fHzlxRkMTDqakXdOMzaZghDx6ao0zfQQZf94cbV6jK3lk5RNLTbB8W-J/s1600/IMG_0053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfo8WoHLsY-K-mQcA70Lr9O2on6bRK-k3Uzgf8nduYhxGKppEr0sBSgYKlE4zzoc9IvKuwP6L6wb46eD-2fHzlxRkMTDqakXdOMzaZghDx6ao0zfQQZf94cbV6jK3lk5RNLTbB8W-J/s1600/IMG_0053.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They crashed against the rocks only to come back stronger. </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj162xitb1tBtde6hqjvzgtEP_MxP6Ndi3A3OrgBpnSGl_S1kQAE1osFisWQuWAb3aj9YiiDQilatLqFihR5jL0yzy5h7958NwfrZw4IWh1fOZRlyfwcxggF_q2-YPOjcivsp1aGYB/s1600/IMG_0065.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj162xitb1tBtde6hqjvzgtEP_MxP6Ndi3A3OrgBpnSGl_S1kQAE1osFisWQuWAb3aj9YiiDQilatLqFihR5jL0yzy5h7958NwfrZw4IWh1fOZRlyfwcxggF_q2-YPOjcivsp1aGYB/s1600/IMG_0065.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As I stood staring at these ways, I realized the importance of "respect" for the ocean. </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihlsF6QGKGfiz7Ckqic4LPgAT8rTBHgwanrybWE93QxE5n2OWX6flJkaheS98qeka3yteNIO3538Rm4V-PR3Bo1JvClii4cWrwCxep_dkNQ4dIQ-hRgKl-qp3RlA-bfzhBJj6im_ja/s1600/IMG_0100.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihlsF6QGKGfiz7Ckqic4LPgAT8rTBHgwanrybWE93QxE5n2OWX6flJkaheS98qeka3yteNIO3538Rm4V-PR3Bo1JvClii4cWrwCxep_dkNQ4dIQ-hRgKl-qp3RlA-bfzhBJj6im_ja/s1600/IMG_0100.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The kids did not miss Wifi, all they had was this one kite, but it was enough. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYEp2OHZ8_3HzTOYK4Q50aGsvPX8JeB1zdgIOnicc96_ljOPav1JGKI8-8jJXcVnrcQfVnvzB-8F6LdDL52qhD2Ow6SvyTG8rO4izxbNTQclvo3J4HFPZnej2z6qsPnW3dIrt07CRD/s1600/IMG_0116.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYEp2OHZ8_3HzTOYK4Q50aGsvPX8JeB1zdgIOnicc96_ljOPav1JGKI8-8jJXcVnrcQfVnvzB-8F6LdDL52qhD2Ow6SvyTG8rO4izxbNTQclvo3J4HFPZnej2z6qsPnW3dIrt07CRD/s1600/IMG_0116.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Cypress behind the cabins. </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_7BP622eDe13A9NMjLqGcgwbynGakyNKiJ3CCrpc5Zs25oqMbzBMMzSK1Z4uR-_criFdIY5COzilo6gPhAxbQX68ncF3AzAAsutY0vAR-6NSh-t0B1nFDgAf1WpW0lluR4un7lE_T/s1600/IMG_6733.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_7BP622eDe13A9NMjLqGcgwbynGakyNKiJ3CCrpc5Zs25oqMbzBMMzSK1Z4uR-_criFdIY5COzilo6gPhAxbQX68ncF3AzAAsutY0vAR-6NSh-t0B1nFDgAf1WpW0lluR4un7lE_T/s1600/IMG_6733.jpg" height="190" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As the sun sets on day 1</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDC-81-9VGs4y8t3ofGeTInr7sXM6Bw39l26M-OD9P2Fb1hJZZ6Fhv4RJLmyZ4CW9vODCMqRW_X8iYB0q0XundHjJ-FfNkroeUaJOkJfuH-60YHk1iavMnWerWlnp777j-sXxHhCAx/s1600/IMG_6749.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDC-81-9VGs4y8t3ofGeTInr7sXM6Bw39l26M-OD9P2Fb1hJZZ6Fhv4RJLmyZ4CW9vODCMqRW_X8iYB0q0XundHjJ-FfNkroeUaJOkJfuH-60YHk1iavMnWerWlnp777j-sXxHhCAx/s1600/IMG_6749.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">… we realize how much there is to be thankful for. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMbgWgYCRngyEwaKzcw4o9lZjJiJ9iYQl2z1U1Xjrq3XR-qDHWPQr84XmHaiT1lQA4alyfBVK7LN7hNWpp0ITM2Zd3jv5hobPn_MC1N3LLV2Cupg485SKCQVvoEo7puUhUIv8okQ7q/s1600/IMG_6750.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMbgWgYCRngyEwaKzcw4o9lZjJiJ9iYQl2z1U1Xjrq3XR-qDHWPQr84XmHaiT1lQA4alyfBVK7LN7hNWpp0ITM2Zd3jv5hobPn_MC1N3LLV2Cupg485SKCQVvoEo7puUhUIv8okQ7q/s1600/IMG_6750.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">.. And the sun rises to give birth to another beautiful day. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaXKwZg4TfNi8xGX29B23N9lKLcCb5axahJrgiAo-_PM6oTu1d04tK3Ps8N-nTLFxmkE-7Ylek1W_Iy23TEnCrnM6u865IazXASnpFV2xoazO2cLFbm5DRkRqxGeGGfPRofHQsCCUZ/s1600/IMG_0159.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaXKwZg4TfNi8xGX29B23N9lKLcCb5axahJrgiAo-_PM6oTu1d04tK3Ps8N-nTLFxmkE-7Ylek1W_Iy23TEnCrnM6u865IazXASnpFV2xoazO2cLFbm5DRkRqxGeGGfPRofHQsCCUZ/s1600/IMG_0159.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Day 2 starts with a tour of the Lighthouse. Yes, we climbed the 145 steps and spotted a whale.<br />
The excitement was too much to capture on the camera. But we saw the spout and the guide confirmed it for us :)<br />
He also mentioned that the light house is located on the Pacific Plate and the St. Andreas fault is only 5 miles away. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_wS53fUmu_DAmRaNoFxHS2jTWvVh7pNAmaW2zPoaobgbFs5YQMfQ3Vgja3HklOs8vNYEBagADk4awGjAR5-Ntu9aLtSQXs6PUFlWdHezvTU2uP_jAJh1bytqbIwOOnkej8CFNC2P1/s1600/IMG_0147.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_wS53fUmu_DAmRaNoFxHS2jTWvVh7pNAmaW2zPoaobgbFs5YQMfQ3Vgja3HklOs8vNYEBagADk4awGjAR5-Ntu9aLtSQXs6PUFlWdHezvTU2uP_jAJh1bytqbIwOOnkej8CFNC2P1/s1600/IMG_0147.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Below that white surf, is an underwater mountain. We were told, until they knew better, ships have crashed into it. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisiTJRQieF9wUZo1j9tV3JvrBduddmVNaYN5MN8FfhZqx4W1Pu4vGz97YoC_GKdhRzd3pCRUMmfRCh-Vx1Vpw46KP1YUsxz9zQbhzpVsiR0HZLKHvotPrl8kiCk9eX9R7GGT0M_oTd/s1600/IMG_0185.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisiTJRQieF9wUZo1j9tV3JvrBduddmVNaYN5MN8FfhZqx4W1Pu4vGz97YoC_GKdhRzd3pCRUMmfRCh-Vx1Vpw46KP1YUsxz9zQbhzpVsiR0HZLKHvotPrl8kiCk9eX9R7GGT0M_oTd/s1600/IMG_0185.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We then head to Glass Beach, Fort Bragg, CA.<br />
The white is not sand, its tiny pieces of polished sea glass.<br />
If you go, make sure you go to the left side of the beach and climb down into the little cove. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRTDn5VZqix7uBv4Hn1VbohwzaoGz54FAU5XFNaOK646zQTEyzyvQmQLqDtE0kR9-ag9ioFycCexpNN1nWcS1lY0VMdwFYaQXcFwqbSpxpfK_PBngIWXzn3TOwO84ow2WmWt77gf81/s1600/IMG_6758.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRTDn5VZqix7uBv4Hn1VbohwzaoGz54FAU5XFNaOK646zQTEyzyvQmQLqDtE0kR9-ag9ioFycCexpNN1nWcS1lY0VMdwFYaQXcFwqbSpxpfK_PBngIWXzn3TOwO84ow2WmWt77gf81/s1600/IMG_6758.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Humans leaving their sad mark. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh12xJ5hnvPzggdtWNM-GZvstsvDACeFmzlgFZTKeVe6q4c8t-0n55Fvy4FnmnVqXMx5MT9YY7K2FTSZyIO2-vmpAZ1FtNjP7AdXqoIjK96VrIL8ykYk4CVbQRxkB9Ca1iIi-1BOPFX/s1600/IMG_6781.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh12xJ5hnvPzggdtWNM-GZvstsvDACeFmzlgFZTKeVe6q4c8t-0n55Fvy4FnmnVqXMx5MT9YY7K2FTSZyIO2-vmpAZ1FtNjP7AdXqoIjK96VrIL8ykYk4CVbQRxkB9Ca1iIi-1BOPFX/s1600/IMG_6781.JPG" height="320" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another breathtaking view _ this the right side of the glass beck, much more kid friendly. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt6AjogDNNMcA6jhmTs3917cNrT3bcnZ3Ed36zYlipVKTE0fw6LU2EnwRg1gLtA71ULYJ7GAJC-YkjfmRtIezBOVQAhcLN3LhyphenhyphenVl1ZzVLRBoOU0edGS7HqtD5F7tZ2iFQxFuzKZdgU/s1600/IMG_0171.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt6AjogDNNMcA6jhmTs3917cNrT3bcnZ3Ed36zYlipVKTE0fw6LU2EnwRg1gLtA71ULYJ7GAJC-YkjfmRtIezBOVQAhcLN3LhyphenhyphenVl1ZzVLRBoOU0edGS7HqtD5F7tZ2iFQxFuzKZdgU/s1600/IMG_0171.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wonder what their thoughts are? </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj8ucqMP2fmeD-xHNxyzEAUYIeRLdJxsHyYtmk3Dq24Gx8TUYrs1koEAZmrzA_VuzBYcn27pJ7ZCvB8P65De4AU6oF8hKpHGAk4nkANlMXRnxRm8FI2d7_AoEKF96A3vSbXXQrmTme/s1600/IMG_0145.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj8ucqMP2fmeD-xHNxyzEAUYIeRLdJxsHyYtmk3Dq24Gx8TUYrs1koEAZmrzA_VuzBYcn27pJ7ZCvB8P65De4AU6oF8hKpHGAk4nkANlMXRnxRm8FI2d7_AoEKF96A3vSbXXQrmTme/s1600/IMG_0145.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just enjoy the view. </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDYaoGO9A6a_3xdLw7M-PYTYzEYd1CIZGThar4Z9DJVNRGu1KhJlWSK1d2BpGXZLC_sZ5gUPxwY-5LxgIJjDMhSfbq8CRT3twSLYruzoQtIxLF8YfVt2y34RXaucDzUjQjCoCEOtrj/s1600/IMG_0232.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDYaoGO9A6a_3xdLw7M-PYTYzEYd1CIZGThar4Z9DJVNRGu1KhJlWSK1d2BpGXZLC_sZ5gUPxwY-5LxgIJjDMhSfbq8CRT3twSLYruzoQtIxLF8YfVt2y34RXaucDzUjQjCoCEOtrj/s1600/IMG_0232.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the many caves and tunnels water winds its way through in Glass Beach. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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After Glass Beach, Next Stop is the Botanical Gardens. Sorry, I don't remember the names. Just enjoy these beauties. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS5MVEycttRroaq3vYV_wvVDpgOnjUOp8t08nlsJSe3OQeRMX47-3nNAWTPAouDBJR1edcZX_fAa7L62uQ96wXZUoU9Wjfg5WWuxQE_UozNjt2TRTF4zqoHlfAe47Vgc5bZb8Gd_Yi/s1600/IMG_0278.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS5MVEycttRroaq3vYV_wvVDpgOnjUOp8t08nlsJSe3OQeRMX47-3nNAWTPAouDBJR1edcZX_fAa7L62uQ96wXZUoU9Wjfg5WWuxQE_UozNjt2TRTF4zqoHlfAe47Vgc5bZb8Gd_Yi/s1600/IMG_0278.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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As we drove back, there was this rustic grocery store OR you can do what we did, go to Safeway in Fort Bragg, CA :)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtfsE7aMeao9egIN60Xuvj8YTZRRFl-o4Tn1tb_4yY236nB08Aq1BbSyJ_jd7HvsEeYfhjNVe_ngsew_Z9cWSqUCARvFJT34RqrXPD3twjwFZOfKQ446-tfQuF4W7v9ig6WS_Lhgfk/s1600/IMG_6784.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtfsE7aMeao9egIN60Xuvj8YTZRRFl-o4Tn1tb_4yY236nB08Aq1BbSyJ_jd7HvsEeYfhjNVe_ngsew_Z9cWSqUCARvFJT34RqrXPD3twjwFZOfKQ446-tfQuF4W7v9ig6WS_Lhgfk/s1600/IMG_6784.jpg" height="307" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Market is open. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj8hO8hvN_nLiOZvev0G8_LvIiixeYgCILmb5aoOFG7Ir9JNjp6NB3BnHNxhk-NqUcTMCBVegyH7usAEt_1pDBCQ97uW9J36sgZL8XPclZPthxyWchWff-LaMGeh97f5K6hWIQcsck/s1600/IMG_0118.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj8hO8hvN_nLiOZvev0G8_LvIiixeYgCILmb5aoOFG7Ir9JNjp6NB3BnHNxhk-NqUcTMCBVegyH7usAEt_1pDBCQ97uW9J36sgZL8XPclZPthxyWchWff-LaMGeh97f5K6hWIQcsck/s1600/IMG_0118.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Guiding the lost soul for decades</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPUY4OHs0Ab1URaYOw4ayJxgSsTxUxsOaXBTvYe6eoPDi2O2PtMew-CNeG8BQPEhKgxtDHLXx3HgjRoQII-c1tc7Oz9oPBPuHxleRXGuGj8L5SFWZTHus_pzOYZvgkssN7MGw76Cjy/s1600/IMG_0126.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPUY4OHs0Ab1URaYOw4ayJxgSsTxUxsOaXBTvYe6eoPDi2O2PtMew-CNeG8BQPEhKgxtDHLXx3HgjRoQII-c1tc7Oz9oPBPuHxleRXGuGj8L5SFWZTHus_pzOYZvgkssN7MGw76Cjy/s1600/IMG_0126.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The wind was really blowing by now. </td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgptheJ8Fo441C0hKwnCkSDdHVRagjvoZT_fpwDhP-eROZ9rnjRUGbw8mle-5_pc8LAft3lAiNbmhYse4cWfzFY3SXag2iUZo55_MoVOooVNsib7VcjAvzsp8kkE9cNitv12E8uLjG_/s1600/IMG_6753.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgptheJ8Fo441C0hKwnCkSDdHVRagjvoZT_fpwDhP-eROZ9rnjRUGbw8mle-5_pc8LAft3lAiNbmhYse4cWfzFY3SXag2iUZo55_MoVOooVNsib7VcjAvzsp8kkE9cNitv12E8uLjG_/s1600/IMG_6753.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sun sets on another gorgeous day. </td></tr>
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Day 3: We decided to head back on US 1 debating where to stop for lunch. As the passengers continued to argue, the driver turned into this random place on US 1. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr9NdZpkkzAawAaHX68lkYzkE76jTlRCB9md-h_MiaTODYYoGyviQQHHCmiahNGsZx-l_xAdAL45or-f_baxZbpj1SOnQVvXZuPN9mJplLXJvXj5JLCaNIXfq3iWB0W19Xiez7L5qx/s1600/IMG_6810.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr9NdZpkkzAawAaHX68lkYzkE76jTlRCB9md-h_MiaTODYYoGyviQQHHCmiahNGsZx-l_xAdAL45or-f_baxZbpj1SOnQVvXZuPN9mJplLXJvXj5JLCaNIXfq3iWB0W19Xiez7L5qx/s1600/IMG_6810.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's an RV park? But we need lunch… </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8hrbmEUAXucNx_px5Xgt8qnZyw8_Z8YOCb_bHt4wD9UhZe3hxSqp7SNey98327k1BdlkwUE9h0HEiyWZGRQhdcjdCc0p5gVJxCTJH6kzRgA2GvVcHHcZeDeSMAh0Ko1uw8Tll6Lm4/s1600/IMG_6808.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8hrbmEUAXucNx_px5Xgt8qnZyw8_Z8YOCb_bHt4wD9UhZe3hxSqp7SNey98327k1BdlkwUE9h0HEiyWZGRQhdcjdCc0p5gVJxCTJH6kzRgA2GvVcHHcZeDeSMAh0Ko1uw8Tll6Lm4/s1600/IMG_6808.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And then we see this .. quaint little place.. MoMo's Galley. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ4-KlFB53juoZ1CKBbQ-vv8DTbtWQS4cY0GWl6pmKOixR7oK3KGyiFF7ZbpmL_4LCMjamyhRP66zyN7A8oKhdcG-joPkBBZo_2yVKlle5ENmy0o4KA2icCkFZU3mG0yneJ3aRlUZT/s1600/IMG_6809.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ4-KlFB53juoZ1CKBbQ-vv8DTbtWQS4cY0GWl6pmKOixR7oK3KGyiFF7ZbpmL_4LCMjamyhRP66zyN7A8oKhdcG-joPkBBZo_2yVKlle5ENmy0o4KA2icCkFZU3mG0yneJ3aRlUZT/s1600/IMG_6809.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For a family that is constantly debating between vegetarian and non-vegetarian food, this place was god send and the food was heavenly. Absolutely fresh food cooked from scratch. Yes, we actually spoke to the chef Mo as he whipped up the most amazing Chicken Satay, Pad Thai and Ginger Chicken. A definite stop next time we travel this road.<br />
Like them on FB at: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/MOMOSGALLEY" target="_blank">MOMO's Galley on 2001 Hwy 1, Bodega Bay, CA</a><br />
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… And so ended a short but amazing vacation.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: small;">Hope you enjoyed this trip with me.. until next time. Keep traveling, even if it is virtual :) </span></b></td></tr>
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Imperfectly Perfect Creations...with Shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06429367890322987167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7202528372180798617.post-2362508362268219292014-04-09T20:43:00.002-07:002014-04-10T09:43:12.138-07:00Woman, Are you Real? <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I love to read your blog, I don't always get to, but what I do I am always amazed at your spirit ,and your way of making us all,Feel like Alice looking through the looking glass of life! Keep up the great work!" </span></i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">This is one of the sweetest comments a follower posted on my blog. Thank you for visiting and taking the time to write. Looking glass it is! We all including myself have a looking glass that helps brings things into perspective and then we look away to accept the reality as it is. I honestly don't blame anyone who does so, life is challenging and if all of us can just be, that itself is an achievement to begin with. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Coming back to today. This blog post has been in the making for decades now. It took this share on FB to bring it to reality. I'll let u read this first. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLEmQ9wXB70ZOI_Bk1HWsb8kBpl2_KUvQrz7mdTF7Te4bYDKFumndOM9V-q-nKOtnubCHI4EMcwN55THagZyokbq4HDasMqGwD6sz2eHDYiVxDu6HcgEsE7qv2N-5ofP_Z6hkBCdgQ/s1600/10003901_10152244682635380_1314277865_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLEmQ9wXB70ZOI_Bk1HWsb8kBpl2_KUvQrz7mdTF7Te4bYDKFumndOM9V-q-nKOtnubCHI4EMcwN55THagZyokbq4HDasMqGwD6sz2eHDYiVxDu6HcgEsE7qv2N-5ofP_Z6hkBCdgQ/s1600/10003901_10152244682635380_1314277865_n.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">So what do you think? Who are you? </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">I don't think my house is always clean and I never have enough patience, enough smiles or enough kind words on a daily basis for everyone I cross path with; and yet I am a WOMAN in every sense of the word. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Who is a real woman? Is she the perfectly dressed lady you cross paths with every morning when you drop of your child at school, or is she the amazing multi-tasker who manages her work and home like clock work and still has time for her kids or is she the one who says "I can't do it all. I need time for myself," and so she hires help to take care of the routine stuff. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><b>I think they all are the real woman. If they choose to believe otherwise, that's their decision, but they are amazing women in my world. </b></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS71R2_SdHuR2dEeclj-mEHP_8odZjqx1h329U0US8BvhIaP_BP9yqsyox8thLyPvr30XOWjKbvErdv1rbYk4vovqhCVXOOMe7f2B7rKM2RabGBTfGgi5CQM8sU8x7_QHfPGHMcnfP/s1600/images-9.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS71R2_SdHuR2dEeclj-mEHP_8odZjqx1h329U0US8BvhIaP_BP9yqsyox8thLyPvr30XOWjKbvErdv1rbYk4vovqhCVXOOMe7f2B7rKM2RabGBTfGgi5CQM8sU8x7_QHfPGHMcnfP/s1600/images-9.jpeg" height="176" width="320" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">We are trained to think of beauty and perfection in a certain way. Some blame it on mythology, some on world pageants and I blame it on no one. It's a perspective, there is no right or wrong about it. </span></span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Today as the world leans in, the pinks move into the shirt aisle and the Lego's are now pink and purple too, I look through my looking glass and see myself years ago. I maybe an odd one out here, but I love buying dolls for little girls. What's wrong with that? </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">I loved dolls as a little girl, I loved flaunting my adolescent beautiful long hair and enjoyed just being a girl, and yet today I can use a drill machine with equal ease. </span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Don't get me wrong here, I am all for girls being taught science and taking leadership roles but like every thing else today the word "feminism" is going through a shift too. Feminism is often considered a synonym to misandrists, today it's not.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Feminism to me is simply celebrating being a woman, and she can do that as she flies a plane, builds a deck using power tools or simply by choosing to be pretty. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">When the post above, says that you must be a man because no woman in the real world does all of the above. I disagree. A real woman does not need to do all that. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">A real woman: </span></span></div>
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<li style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Is honest</span></span></li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Cries her heart out every so often</span></span></li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Screams if she needs to</span></span></li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Understands the power of silence </span></span></li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Knows her worth. She will let others get away with only so much :) </span></span></li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Is confident in her steps</span></span></li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Wears sweat pants, does not wear make up and is comfortable in her own skin</span></span></li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Sometimes takes her own sweet time to find her objectives and goals in life</span></span></li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">May not have all the answers and is not afraid to ask for help</span></span></li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Has one AWESOME girl friend</span></span></li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Needs to vent out, and hey sometimes even just b**** about life. </span></span></li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">And yes, when she meets a real man, she is not afraid to spend her life with him. She will make his dreams her own and push him to achieve them even if it is at the cost of her dreams</span></span></li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">But if she doesn't meet one, she is confident to take those steps alone and make her own dreams come true. </span></span></li>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">It's not about the hair, the house or how elegant her dress is. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><b><i>It's about her; and to her it's about being real and hers. </i></b></span></span></div>
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Imperfectly Perfect Creations...with Shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06429367890322987167noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7202528372180798617.post-74474180467221241472014-03-26T22:55:00.002-07:002014-03-26T22:55:05.386-07:00Beyond Culture. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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One of the biggest challenges in modern times is keeping the family values and traditions moving forward and appreciated. In some ways a sustainable development of its unique culture and heritage. </div>
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As kids get wiser and smarter, we as parents are often faced with the question, what is our culture? While this question is more visible in immigrant families, I believe it holds true for natives too. </div>
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The kid is learning about ancient civilizations now, and India is the last one they will study. Am I looking forward to it. Of course I am, its a legitimate opportunity for me to gloat about all that India has offered to the world from the zero to the science of Ayurveda to the modern <a href="http://www.wearfin.com/" target="_blank">Fin</a>. I am however dreading the question, What is Indian culture? Most Indian parents start off by saying its about how the family sticks together and they prove this by restating the fact that Indians pay for the college, marriage, honeymoon, and if they can the first house too. And by doing so, most of us immigrant parents fulfill our moral duty of being Indian and taking care of our kids. </div>
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Is that really what Indian Culture is? Do any of us really know how to answer that question? I know I don't. <b>Culture is yet another word that is often defined individually. </b></div>
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Last Thursday, I missed the blogpost as I was busy being a mom and getting some kids ready for their performance at the school cultural show. It's an annual event of brilliant performances, good food and friendships. It's a happy fun evening for all. On the face it looks simple, get a few kids, make them perform, order food, plan the seating and voila you have a cultural show, <b>but like most beautiful moments in life, there are many small moments that go into making this gala event possible and for the school it was many volunteers and hours that made it happen. </b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The International Samosa</td></tr>
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For a few moments, I took the time to go outside and have a bite. As I sat eating, I saw the longest line at the Samosa counter, and then I counted, out of the fifteen people standing in line, only 3 were Indian. I kept looking and mumbled to myself; "Samosa is International." </div>
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This trivial realization was the inspiration behind this blogpost. </div>
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The two hour school cultural show silently brought forward elements beyond the singing and dancing. The school talent show for the kids and by the kids can teach us adults a lesson or two. I saw kids cheering for their class mates. They did not care if their act was selected or not. They were just happy to see their friends perform so well. <b>They are creating a new culture. A culture that will adopt the best of the world they live in. It is interesting how we as selfless little beings grow up to be adults that snear before cheer. </b><br />
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Culture to the talent show and students was about the music and dance. For the parents it was about the variety of food and bringing out their beautiful ethnic clothes. <b>The community on the other hand saw the sense of belonging. It was about crossing the geographical boundaries to truly adapt and adopt the world we live in. </b><br />
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The eastern world claims to have a culture deep seated in spirituality and traditions and thus making it more stable and honorable. The USA just like its counter eastern countries is an amalgamation of different cultures and traditions. Just as India was invaded by many, the natives in the USA did not have it easy either. They were invaded too. <br />
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<b>The key difference between the eastern and western world is beyond culture. It is patience and humility that differentiates the cultures and like humans, it is about the age factor :) </b><br />
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As we grow old, we learn to be more patient. We understand the value of humility and empathy. The younger generation is often blamed for being selfish, arrogant and yet brilliant for they have the power to define the future. The same is true for countries. As a country matures, it learns patience. It learns to understand the world and choose its friends wisely. The youthful nature of USA is reflected in its capability to adapt and accept any culture. Its continued inventive and creative thinking to improve the world we live in demonstrates its brilliance.<br />
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Today, as I wrap up the moments from the cultural show, I hope the "sense of belonging" to the school continues not only for the students but for the parents too. <br />
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<b>Culture today is about accepting, being humble and sharing ideas, vision and resources towards the common goal of bringing out the best in our world. </b></div>
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Imperfectly Perfect Creations...with Shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06429367890322987167noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7202528372180798617.post-38479929982072480922014-03-14T23:17:00.000-07:002014-03-14T23:17:22.988-07:00Holi Everyday. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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A box of crayons is a joy for a child. Its the one place where nothing contradicts. It's always a contrast or complimenting color but never contradictory. </div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">It's no secret, I love colors; from the calming blues and passionate reds to the confident black and innocent white, I love them all. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">As a citizen of the world (I think) born in India, colors and Holi are synonyms to me. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">India or USA, March is the season of spring everywhere. <b>After a freezing winter, as the warmth of the sun emanates the Earth. It's when every seed frees itself and bursts out to celebrate life. As Robin Williams once said "Spring is nature's way of saying "Let's party." Party is what India does during spring; c</b></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><b>elebrated on the full moon during the month of Phalgun, usually the month of March, spring creates a beautiful mess like no other fesitval :) </b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Imagine playing with colors with all your friends and neighbor-hood, what you get is a sky full of colors. The question is why do Indians celebrate Holi? Well like everything else, there is a mythological angle to this to. So long time ago, there was a king Hrianyakashyap. In return for his unshakeable faith and worship to Lord Brahma, he was granted the boon of immortality. What would happen to a man who was granted immortality? Like they show in the Hollywood fictions, yes he did start thinking of himself as the god and created trouble for all. Fortunately for the world and mankind, his son Prahlad, was not like him. Prahlad, was a good soul who did not agree with his father's evil intentions. Angered at his son's opposition and after many failed attempts to kill him, Hrianyakashyap orders his son to be set on fire with his sister Holika, a demon who was thought to have immunity from fire. The gods came together and saved Prahlad and the evil was burnt in the fire. So Holi in one part celebrates the victory of good over evil. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">There's another romantic angle to the story too. Lord Krishna is worshipped my many Hindu's. Historically, the hindus worshipped Krishna by putting red color on his idol, friends and family. It is believed that Krishna used this opportunity to have a little fun with his beloved Radha and the rest of us mortals just followed :) </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>This symbolism of devotion today is the fun filled crazy color flinging fun, we know as Holi. </b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Growing up in India, Holi instantly brings back memories of getting up early, wearing that specially selected pure white outfit and teaming up with friends to roam the street aimlessly and fling color at each other and passers by. Yes passers by, that's the beauty of the festival, one can throw color at anyone and there is never a yell or scream that comes back. The only reaction is a smile.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Today, Holi for me continues to be a favorite festival, but the crazy runs to neighbors and friends afar has been replaced by a family affair in the backyard where in my son loves taking the hose pipe and drenching his mom with it. It's the one day he can do this and not get yelled at :) This is the play part of Holi. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18px;">In reality as I look at Holi today, I see and realize it is a part of my every day life. Holi symbolizes much more than the mythological victory of gods or the love of Krishna, <b>it's about embracing the different colors of life. Life is like a box of crayons. It's filled with bright vibrant reds to melancholy yet calming blues. </b></span></div>
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You don't need to actually play Holi to celebrate or believe in it. I don't play every year, but I know I celebrate Holi everyday because I love colors in my wardrobe, I love colors in my cooking and I love colors in my paintings. There are days when nothing seems to go correct, on those days it's the vibrant yellows blend effortlessly with the blues to create the life giving greens. </b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; line-height: 18px;"><b><div>
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</b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d; line-height: 18px;"><b>Colors are beautiful; while the red is passionate and exotic, and green brings life, black is a beautiful color too that stands tall with its distinct personality and yet absorbs all that is thrown at it, White on the other hand teaches us to ignore the minor differences and blend in as one human race. </b></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1d1d1d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Colors silently teach us to compliment and not oppose. </span></b></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Wishing you and yours a very Happy Holi. </span></b></div>
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Imperfectly Perfect Creations...with Shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06429367890322987167noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7202528372180798617.post-42431526831372491372014-03-05T19:30:00.005-08:002014-03-05T21:45:56.780-08:00Am I the Mean One? <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3e454c;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Thank you for the encouragement and responses to last weeks guest blogpost. You made an eleven year old very happy. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3e454c;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3e454c;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Today, I am very excited to have got permission form another budding artist, poet and writer. This is also a guest blogpost by a young twelve year old. She is </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #3e454c; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">a voracious reader who takes inspirations from her reads and writes short stories and plots for her future novels. She 'scribbles' poetry every now and then and thinks that she is a bad Poet. :) </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #3e454c; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">She compliments her writing with her own illustrations and loves to draw and color/shade. Manga Art is her favorite. Juggling her hobbies and school, she also finds time to practice gymnastics and swimming. Like all tweens, her friends are her life! <span class="emoticon emoticon_smile" style="background-image: url(https://fbstatic-a.akamaihd.net/rsrc.php/v2/yl/r/djWWR4XJTnA.png); background-position: -170px -146px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: auto; display: inline-block; height: 16px; margin-top: -1px; vertical-align: top; width: 16px;" title=":)"></span> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #3e454c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">At such a young age, her writing and art reflects human emotions. It is special when a twelve year old is sensitive to the feelings of others. Her work has been commended by her seniors and peers. One of her poems won Reflections' Award in Lawson middle school in 2013. Also, her poem was part of Young American poetry digest.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #3e454c; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3e454c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>Her poem "Am I the Mean One" is her perspective on bullying; a growing problem in schools today.</b></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue; font-size: large;">AM I THE MEAN ONE? </span></u></b></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3e454c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3e454c; font-size: large;">When people pick on me</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3e454c; font-size: large;">I cry because I am mad</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3e454c; font-size: large;">So I get even with them </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3e454c; font-size: large;">And then I am glad</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3e454c; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3e454c; font-size: large;">But then I am sad</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3e454c; font-size: large;">because I am not always mean</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3e454c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: large; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3e454c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: large; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">But they make me feel like a small bean</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3e454c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: large; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3e454c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: large; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">So does that make me mean? </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3e454c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: large; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I am not mean or Am I?</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #3e454c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> - By Rujul</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Art By Rujul : Reflecting the feeling in the Poem "Am I the Mean One?"<br />
I think its a brilliant illustration. Love the questioning sad expression in the eyes and how she is cuddling herself.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Her poem was also chosen by Project Cornerstone as an illustration of how kids feel when bullied. Below is a snapshot of their Facebook page. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #3e454c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>Please join me in wishing this budding writer, poet and artist success in all her future endeavors. I look forward to reading her publications. </b></span><br />
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Imperfectly Perfect Creations...with Shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06429367890322987167noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7202528372180798617.post-86755899139423700112014-02-26T22:08:00.003-08:002014-02-26T22:13:37.088-08:00The Change.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Today's post is a guest post by a eleven year old. His challenge was to write a persuasive essay on how to spend the ten thousand dollars his school won. For keeping it neutral, I asked him to change the names but the text is his own. My favorite part was when he recognized that the "coolness" of technology can actually prevent kids from going stray. Hope you enjoy this.<br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue; font-size: large;">The Change </span></b><br />
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"It's happened, Wildcat Elementary School has won the jackpot of ten thousand dollars. Now Mrs. Fabulous comes the tough decision; What will you do with all this money? Well, my brain is teeming with satisfactory ideas and I have chosen a stellar one that will change education in our school forever. This genius idea is to get our school "plugged in" or include electronics in our daily curriculum. Wildcat Elementary should have electronics because today everything is online. We could use these tools for helping us research stuff, learn from experts and also motivate kids to learn. </div>
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If a teacher gave a student a school project and they needed to research information, what would they do? Laptops and desktops are the answer. These devices are easy to use and give us an immense amount of information in a very small amount of time via the internet. This helps the students improve their grades and prosper. The students will be motivated to learn the facts or use high vocabulary words that they made an effort to search for and thus remember them better too. </div>
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Today there are tests, quizzes and learning sites that are solely invented to help kids learn and succeed. If we had electronics, kids could to an educational website to find the solutions to their predicament. One example of an educational website is Khan Academy, a website that has helped millions become more educated than before. There is also online pretest websites that helps kids prepare for exams. One such example is <a href="https://sbacpt.tds.airast.org/student/" target="_blank">Smarter Balance Testing</a> . This is a website that helps kids get ready for smarter balance testing, a new program in schools that is replacing STAR test. </div>
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Some kids just don't want to learn. They think that there are much more important things than education. That's why many kids start taking drugs. They think learning is boring. If we had electronics in our school that wouldn't be a problem. These fancy gadgets are alluring to kids, so if we would buy them kids would start to love education. For some kids that are in poverty, this maybe the only time they will get a chance to learn using technology. </div>
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Even if people want to ignore it, technology has become a major part of everyones lives. Some people wouldn't even be able to live without electronics. This is why electronics should be allowed in our school. It will help kids do their projects by researching information, kids will learn using electronics and kids will want to learn too. So remember I want to get this school "plugged in." </div>
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Imperfectly Perfect Creations...with Shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06429367890322987167noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7202528372180798617.post-25723104053124861472014-02-20T22:59:00.001-08:002014-02-20T22:59:50.585-08:00Mom, It's okay. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Thursday afternoon, the bell rang and in came a tiny silent guest. I looked at it with a frown and said to myself; NO! Not this weekend, its the long weekend. Come on it's the Valentines weekend, so what if its a Hallmark holiday, it's still an excuse to go out for dinner. I had so much planned, family dinner, a trip to the Exploratorium and do some gardening as a family. Gardening, yes gardening and if you haven't heard; the truth is a family that weeds together, stays together. But, now its all going to change, for he is here. </div>
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Fuming at his ill timing, feeling hot as in I think I have a fever coming on hot, I thank My Little Ponies for graciously baby sitting my girl while I crash on the couch. Siri promises to wake me up in 90 minutes so I can welcome my older one back from school.</div>
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It's 2.50 p.m, Siri true to her word, was punctual and so was the tween. He rings the bell, I tell him; "I need to sleep, please watch your sister." He agrees, I thank him and crash again. But wait, I am a Mom, am I allowed to fall sick? Whose going to cover the two hour Tae Kwon Do class in the evening, and what about dinner. The thoughts don't stop there, they move forward to Friday, I had promised a 5 year old a trip to the park with her friends, and then we had piano, Taeko again followed by a dance rehearsal. </div>
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I drag myself up and hold my head tightly as it desperately tries to spin off the neck. The clutter clatter of the pans in the kitchen draws his attention and he asks "Mom, are you feeling better? I thought you wanted to sleep." I say, "yes I did, but then you have Taeko and its almost dinner time." He gets up, comes to me and says "It's okay, you can rest. We can handle it." LOL is what I want to do, and I think he read my mind. He forces me to lie down and assures me that he will take care of it and besides he says, "daddy will be home in an hour." I lie down, close my eyes and voices fade away. I sleep and sleep more for the next three days and play a gracious host to the microscopic secretive guest. Every time he visits, he looks different. He says he likes trying new styles but then who doesn't for there is fashion galore to choose from for size 0 and below. </div>
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I have to admit, through the headaches, coughs and fever I could not help but ponder about what they were doing. All the noise surely meant the downstairs must be trashed. I irked at the thought of going downstairs and seeing the mess. For me to not know what the kids were doing, what were they eating, and how were they handling it in general was proving to be very difficult, so I call out to my husband and ask him, he laughingly says, "don't worry they are having a blast. You get some rest." </div>
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Having a blast, when I am sick. Don't they miss their mom, and you can imagine the rest of the emotional emotions that I ran through. After being "treated" for almost four days now, the out-of-towner decides to leave and I take a deep breath. </div>
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Here's what I learned this last week: </div>
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1) When sick, do not try to be a mighty mommy. </div>
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2) I need to trust my upbringing more. Every parent teaches their kids to be independent and yet when opportunity comes, we hesitate to trust them with it. But then no one said parenthood would be easy. </div>
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3) Kids are more resilient than adults. Kids are amazing, they adapt to situations so much better than adults. This last week, I saw Tom and Jerry take care of each other like never before. Tom fed her, bathed her and even read a story :) </div>
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4) Dad's deserve a lot more credit than we give them. They have their own way of taking care of things. When dad can't find a glue stick at homework time, he uses super glue. It's not what a mom would do, but the job gets done, and that's all that matters. </div>
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5) It's okay to let everything just be and take care of itself. This for me is the hardest, but I am learning. </div>
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Moral of the story; .When mom's fall sick, the world may not spin as miraculously, but it will continue to spin. </div>
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Mom's aren't allowed to fall sick, is so yesterday. </div>
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Today; Mom, it's okay you can fall sick.</div>
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Imperfectly Perfect Creations...with Shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06429367890322987167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7202528372180798617.post-27687508966604044192014-02-12T18:10:00.000-08:002014-02-12T18:12:47.025-08:00Hello Friend! <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #2a303e; font-family: "Lucida Grande"; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Lucida Grande";">“We have three types of Friends in Life:<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #2a303e; font-family: "Lucida Grande"; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Lucida Grande";">Friends for a Reason, Friends for a Season and
Friends for a Lifetime.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="color: #2a303e; font-family: "Lucida Grande"; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Lucida Grande";">This is a post from a
friend’s wall on FB. She wrote it in January and the blog post has been in the
making, since. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> 2013,</span> for
valentine day, I chose to share my take on what is love and concluded <a href="http://imperfectlyperfectcreations.blogspot.com/2013/02/love-its-logically-illogical.html" target="_blank">it's logically illogical and a choice we all make. </a> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Verdana;">Valentine day 2014, lets talk about you, my
friend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Verdana;">The quote above is a very profound statement that is open to interpretation. <br />
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Here’s mine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13pt;"><b>Friends
for a reason; </b>m</span><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Verdana;">aking friends for a
reason? At the first take this sounds very selfish, but then it’s not always like that. Definitely not in my Utopian world.
<b>Friends for a reason come into our lives to fulfill a gap, a need or a wish
that we have.</b> That friend could be your child’s teacher who walks you through
the ups and downs of school years, it could be a nurse who holds your hand as
you sit next to your loved one in the hospital or it could be a fellow
co-worker who understands that a new job can be daunting so instead of being
the smart one, they choose to listen and guide you to success. That’s the friend for
a reason. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Verdana;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Verdana;"><b>They are nature’s way of making things happen and keeping the circle
of giving going. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 17px;"><b>Your friend for a reason was literally put at the
right place and at the right time by life, so you could take the next step forward.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Verdana;">If this friend vanishes as suddenly as he or she
appeared, then don’t be sad. Some relationships are meant to last for only so
long because the reason for their existence is over and its time for that
friend of a reason to find another and continue to exist. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 17px;">If this friend continues to become a friend for a season, then you are lucky. </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Verdana;">Friends for a season are rare :) </span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 17px;">The friend for a season is often <b>u</b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 17px;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">nseen and untouched until it’s the right
time.</b> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Verdana;">When
they are really needed, they magically appear like the cluster of lilies
blooming from the cold frosty ground announcing the arrival of spring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb028Rkbqu5LQFOY04kidOinTC1ZFffBf_Svle2yvlKSihnKaj9uY_XLhcmRysLkQyIGRjmA_zDiVRpvLR3HUXg_lX2vFE912BIqW_HoRDnF_dG8B02dQ-eQm6KCZtZCmTKp_ijwts/s1600/friendship-true.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb028Rkbqu5LQFOY04kidOinTC1ZFffBf_Svle2yvlKSihnKaj9uY_XLhcmRysLkQyIGRjmA_zDiVRpvLR3HUXg_lX2vFE912BIqW_HoRDnF_dG8B02dQ-eQm6KCZtZCmTKp_ijwts/s1600/friendship-true.jpg" height="293" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Verdana;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Verdana;">This friendship has a sixth sense of its own. When the world sees a smile, this friend will see the forced smile. These friends will always be there for you and
yet they come and go. These are the friends you won’t talk to for years and yet
when you do, the years of absence seems irrelevant. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Verdana;">Friends
for a life-time</span></b><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Verdana;">; <b>is your family.</b> <b>Yes, a true and honest familial
relationship over time crosses the bridge of relationships to step into the
informal playground of friendship.</b><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><b> </b>
</span>These friendships give us an environment to thrive. They accept all the
tantrums as much as the person and either by the stern look of a father, the
cuddle of a mother, the kiss from a husband or the hug from a child this life-time friend nurtures you
from the inside out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Verdana;">Today as the world changes, so do these
antiquated beliefs. Friendships today are not limited to in person, they are virtual too. No longer do we need a coffee shop or the bench of a park, today you can meet your friend in a virtual space called the Facebook wall, and then its <a href="http://imperfectlyperfectcreations.blogspot.com/2013/10/me-my-wall-and-you.html" target="_blank">Me, My Wall and You. </a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Verdana;">Momma always said, “Birds of a feather flock
together, so choose your friends wisely.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> I would then wonder, who is a good friend?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Verdana;">Today,
a friend is “someone I can be silent with.” <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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Imperfectly Perfect Creations...with Shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06429367890322987167noreply@blogger.com0