Storytellers and Writers

Love You Mom - "Love Hold Our Tomorrow"

2011-12-31T22:04:00.002-05:00

Saying "good-bye" to 2011...restoring old photos and created a music video.
Music : "Love Hold Our Tomorrow" Takatani-VerDow (2011).

This song will always hold memory...a day in March when life changed in the blink of an eye for Hiroshi in Japan and for me close to home.

Lyrics :

"Love Hold Our Tomorrow"

Never thought we’d be here
In some place of last time
No words left to say
So just hold on to today

You spoke of fear and heartache
I didn’t know what to say
I spoke of steps and mountaintops
You smiled and said, “It’s OK”

For all we know
This may only be a dream
For all we know
The end not what it seems

So let’s hold on to this night
Close our eyes, open hearts

Pray tomorrow never comes
Let love hold this moment, just this moment
Let love hold our tomorrow

Love, hold this moment, this may only be a dream
Love hold our tomorrow…
The end not what it seems

(Love, hold this moment, let this be a dream
Love hold our tomorrow…)

c Jane Marla VerDow January 24, 2011

Song by Jane Marla VerDow (lyrics) and Hiroshi Takatani (composer)
"Love Hold Our Tomorrow"
c)2011 VerDow&Takatani,All Rights Reserved

"Love Hold Our Tomorrow"

2011-08-25T18:45:00.008-04:00

"Love Hold Our Tomorrow"

Never thought we’d be here
In some place of last time
No words left to say
So just hold on to today

You spoke of fear and heartache
I didn’t know what to say
I spoke of steps and mountaintops
You smiled and said, “It’s OK”

For all we know
This may only be a dream
For all we know
The end not what it seems

So let’s hold on to this night
Close our eyes, open hearts

Pray tomorrow never comes
Let love hold this moment, just this moment
Let love hold our tomorrow

Love, hold this moment, this may only be a dream
Love hold our tomorrow…
The end not what it seems

(Love, hold this moment, let this be a dream
Love hold our tomorrow…)

c Jane Marla VerDow January 24, 2011

Song by Jane Marla VerDow (lyrics) and Hiroshi Takatani (composer)
"Love Hold Our Tomorrow"
c)2011 VerDow&Takatani,All Rights Reserved

Song Background Story:
Original lyrics were written Jan. 24 to reflect the end of a relationship...my own...the story of a last night together. The Vernal Equinox is significant to that relationship (our beginning anniversary and two other events in our shared lives).

As the music for this song was first being written by Hiroshi...a delay, March 11, 2011...forever a day to live on in the hearts of both Hiroshi and myself...the day of Japan's earthquake and tsunami...moments later here in the States my Mom's health crashed. Ironic how the music has an angelic sound near the end...I lost my Mom 3/20/2011, the Vernal Equinox.

The night before, the largest full moon I can ever remember...and I knew (that next day being Sunday-unable to get Hospice support)...it would be up to me to fulfill her last wish of going home to go Home.
Funny how life writes itself...

"Tomorrow A Day" Anke Zohm

2011-02-20T21:01:00.003-05:00

Releasing Vocal Mix "Tomorrow A Day" VerDow-Takatani.

Anke Zohm recorded the vocal track for "Tomorrow A Day" at Music Pool Tonstudio, Germany (http://www.musicpool-tonstudio.com/). Special thank-you to Anke Zohm and Volker Kaczinski.

VerDow-Takatani All Rights Reserved
Music Hiroshi Takatani Lyrics Jane Marla VerDow

Lyrics "Tomorrow A Day"

Living life this day, then next not easy
How many years can pass us on by
Tears flood the ground erode the pathway
So many prayers felt wasted on the sky

(Verse 2)
Mountain peaks always seem one step beyond
And dreams too many days fail to come true
Tomorrow a day not sure I want
If not to hear the words, "I do love you"

(Chorus)
So where went the hope of sunrise
So where went the peace of sunset
Memories my heart can't seem to forget
Lost now wondering why we ever met

(Verse 3)
Our love lost to broken promises
Our hearts torn in half let go too soon
Tomorrow a day not sure I want
If I should hear the words, "I once loved you"

(Chorus)
So where went the hope of sunrise
So where went the peace of sunset
Memories my heart can't seem to forget
Lost now wondering why we ever met

(Bridge)
My heart now knows full story true
Half lived dreams that were meant for two
Tomorrow a day not sure I want
Should I hear the words, "I always loved you"

(Chorus)
So where went the hope of sunrise
So where went the peace of sunset
Memories my heart can't seem to forget
Lost now wondering why we ever met

Tomorrow a day not sure I want
Should I hear the words, "I always loved you"

© Jane Marla VerDow, Oct. 20, 2010

"Tomorrow A Day" vocal recording Germany

2011-01-24T12:51:00.022-05:00

"Tomorrow A Day" Orchestra Version
Lyrics : Jane Marla VerDow Music Composer : Hiroshi Takatani

Anke Zohm, recorded the vocal track for "Tomorrow A Day" at Music Pool Tonstudio Wiehl, in die kreative Idylle des Bergischen Landes unweit von Köln/close to the creative idyll of the Bergisch land of the Cologne, 1/14/2011. http://www.musicpool-tonstudio.com/ (Volker Kaczinski)

This is a sample of what the singer hears under the headphones while recording. Sheet music optional. This arrangement is in the key of G.
(Video attached for your viewing-listening pleasure only)

For more information about singer, Anke Zohm
http://www.ankezohm.de/cd.html
Complete listing of her internet links : http://www.ankezohm.de/links.html

One of my favorite songs by Anke is featured on her YouTube Channel:

For more music by Composer Hiroshi Takatani visit his Profile at Soundclick.

Hiroshi welcomes Ratings on Soundclick for "Tomorrow A Day", and on our previous collaboration with Buddy Sutton, on song "Dear Daisy" (based on book, "Dear Daisy" by Jane Marla VerDow) as well as all 34 songs Hiroshi has available on Soundclick.

Hiroshi is working on the Final Vocal mix for "Tomorrow A Day".
Soon to be released so stop back later.

~ Jane Marla VerDow

"Tomorrow A Day"

2011-01-16T14:59:00.001-05:00

New Page added for Rising Sparrow Press on Facebook. (see side panel this blog-right). Follow along with Songs / Lyrics.

"Tomorrow A Day" was recorded in Germany/vocals Jan. 14th, 2011 and is currently in final mix stages/Hiroshi Takatani. ~ Jane Marla VerDow

"Tomorrow A Day"

2010-11-23T13:47:00.004-05:00

Lyrics Jane Marla VerDow (USA) Music Composed by Hiroshi Takatani (Hyogo,Japan)

"Tomorrow A Day"
(Song Lyrics)

Living life this day, then next not easy
How many years can pass us on by
Tears flood the ground erode the pathway
So many prayers felt wasted on the sky

(Verse 2)
Mountain peaks always seem one step beyond
And dreams too many days fail to come true
Tomorrow a day not sure I want
If not to hear the words, "I do love you"

(Chorus)
So where went the hope of sunrise
So where went the peace of sunset
Memories my heart can't seem to forget
Lost now wondering why we ever met

(Verse 3)
Our love lost to broken promises
Our hearts torn in half let go too soon
Tomorrow a day not sure I want
If I should hear the words, "I once loved you"

(Chorus)
So where went the hope of sunrise
So where went the peace of sunset
Memories my heart can't seem to forget
Lost now wondering why we ever met

(Bridge)
My heart now knows full story true
Half lived dreams that were meant for two
Tomorrow a day not sure I want
Should I hear the words, "I always loved you"

(Chorus)
So where went the hope of sunrise
So where went the peace of sunset
Memories my heart can't seem to forget
Lost now wondering why we ever met

Tomorrow a day not sure I want
Should I hear the words, "I always loved you"

© Jane Marla VerDow, Oct. 20, 2010

To view this and other songs and videos by Jane Marla VerDow
JaneMarlaVerDow's Youtube Channel

"Tomorrow A Day"

2010-11-15T21:54:00.007-05:00

Lyrics Jane Marla VerDow
Music Hiroshi Takatani

Lyrics and Music copyright protected

Lyrics “Tomorrow a Day”

Living life this day, then next not easy
How many years can pass us on by
Tears flood the ground erode the pathway
So many prayers felt wasted on the sky

Mountain peaks always seem one step beyond
And dreams too many days fail to come true
Tomorrow a day not sure I want
If not to hear the words, “I do love you”

(Chorus)
So where went the hope of sunrise
So where went the peace of sunset
Memories my heart can’t seem to forget
Lost now wondering why we ever met

Our love lost to broken promises
Our hearts torn in half let go too soon
Tomorrow a day not sure I want
If I should hear the words, “I once loved you”

(Chorus)
So where went the hope of sunrise
So where went the peace of sunset
Memories my heart can’t seem to forget
Lost now wondering why we ever met

(Bridge)
My heart now knows full story true
Half lived dreams that were meant for two
Tomorrow a day not sure I want
Should I hear the words, "I always loved you"

(Chorus)
So where went the hope of sunrise
So where went the peace of sunset
Memories my heart can’t seem to forget
Lost now wondering why we ever met

Tomorrow a day not sure I want
Should I hear the words, “I always loved you”

© Jane Marla VerDow, Oct. 20, 2010

"Tomorrow A Day" is the first solo song lyrics by Jane Marla VerDow

Thank-you Hiroshi for your beautiful music

Music by Hiroshi Takatani / "Dear Daisy" Composer

2010-09-22T17:17:00.003-04:00

Music from the Ethnosphere

(c)2004 Hiroshi Takatani,All rights reserved

**Instruments**
HurdyGurdy,Cimbalom,Flute,Clarinet,Horn,Strings,Harp,
SynthLead,SynthPad,Choir,FemaleVoice,Bell,Drums,SE(noise,wind,stomps)

Silhouette (That Early Summer Day)

The Sun Will Shine

Buddy Sutton / Hiroshi Takatani
(c) 2010 Sutton&Takatani,All Rights Reserved

Instrumental Version

SoundClick Widgets / Buddy Sutton

2010-09-22T17:12:00.002-04:00

Enjoy more music from Lyricist, Buddy Sutton.

Dear Daisy, Theme Song and Author Path

2010-09-20T14:25:00.009-04:00

Theme Song, "Dear Daisy" composed by Hiroshi Takatani
(video features final instrumental version)
June 2010, the song, "Dear Daisy" was born.

Based on the book Dear Daisy by Jane Marla Ver Dow

Though the years they may change us
Some things in life forever remain
Like those years we spent together
Living life its joys and pain

You taught me all 'bout honesty
How the truth would set me free
Like a teacher you inspired me
Each day beneath that Cherry tree

(Chorus)
Now "Dear Daisy" as I write this letter
Though eyes can't see I know you're there
I feel your presence surround me
Your angel wings as they brush my hair

Your smile my summer mornin' Sun
Your wisdom my guide no end
Your actions more than words spoken
Showed me I had a special friend

(Chorus)
Now "Dear Daisy" as I write this letter
Though eyes can't see I know you're there
I feel your presence surround me
Your angel wings as they brush my hair

(Bridge)
Say everything now there's a reason
Not in ours but in God's time
A path our lasting friendship
Enough love to last a lifetime

(Chorus)
Now "Dear Daisy" as I write this letter
Though eyes can't see I know you're there
I feel your presence surround me
Your angel wings as they brush my hair
"Dear Daisy"

© Buddy Sutton June 09 2010
Additional Lyrics Jane Marla Ver Dow

To all I met on my summer festival Dear Daisy book signing path...thank-you for your purchases, but mostly I thank you for the joy and support you brought to my life. Sharing stories, laughs, and connecting with you has made all the difference.

Sincerely, Author, Jane Marla VerDow

9th Anniversary of 911 and 912 and 1028

2010-09-08T09:41:00.027-04:00

Every year, now 9, I have remembered the dates 911 and 1028 by doing something to send a message to the World.

Every year since I started blogging, there is always this post on 911:

"Today, this 911 we come together to remember our World's Family members...may we always reflect on our challenge as the survivors..."

Every year since I started blogging, this message is repeated on 911 and 1028:

"As individuals and as churches, we have need to determine if our mission is to light candles and to keep candles lit, or to blow candles out. I still believe that one candle and that candles united in purpose create the World’s path of creation and life, or can be used to ignite the fire of destruction. If we seek Peace, whether the War is between Nations or the War is between peoples, our own stone and our own flame is really all that any of us have control over."

~ Jane Marla VerDow, Author of Dear Daisy

Content Synopsis Dear Daisy, nonfiction, reads as life is presented day-to-day and by seasons. The author, a gifted storyteller invites the reader into the world and relationship between a Colored illiterate Migrant Woman sharing her wisdom with a boss man’s child under cherry and apple trees during the early 1960's. Daisy, an Angel on Earth years later mystically reappears an Angel from Heaven to guide the grown child on her pathway back Home.

Dear Daisy tells a story 2000 years old yet reminds us how challenges continue to play out and that we each contribute to writing the story.

As the story begins, the author caught in a personal struggle of survival under conditions felt oppressive, writes to Daisy. As the reflective search for self and path unfolds, the 9-11-01 story strikes as a Holy War between extremists of Nations. Before the dust settles, 10-28-01 brings world chaos personal. Living the aftermath, the author struggles to forgive and declares through writing an Epistle as part of her emancipation pathway that violence as a rightful expression and worship of God is not the God of her faith.

Dedication (Dear Daisy) This work is dedicated with all my love to Daisy. Her warmth taught me love, her gift of patience taught me to search my heart for patience with others, her Soul taught me strength equal to compassion, and through her love and guidance I learned to reach for my World.

Every blade of grass has its Angel that bends over and whispers, "Grow, grow."

~ The Talmud

Martin Luther King Jr. (Jan) and Black History Month (February), an anniversary I also remember each year with some act of saying thank-you and honoring. A cause certainly, but mostly reflects my choice to honor, Daisy who from my eyes was the humble, unyielding heart and soul of Dr. King's message.

Daisy, my Spiritual Mentor

My faith was born under the cherry or apple tree. As a child, Daisy was my teacher. She could teach about God by a smile, the way she held out her hand, how she listened to my stories, by her patience, and by the strength of her character and Spirit.

As a child, I understood nature, sensed how life should be, accepted what it wasn't on most days, placed hope in tomorrow by living today, and trusted my instinct to know right from wrong and direction. She taught by her compassion and gentleness to judge fairly or not at all, by her tolerance I learned to look for the good in people, and that the best way to teach was by being or reaching for the best within myself. Daisy as my friend, I sensed early on that we are all God's children; that more makes us the same than different and the contents of a person's heart measures Soul and worth.

Author Jane Marla VerDow honors Candaisy "Daisy" Mitchell in the National Women's Hall of Fame, Book of Lives and Legacies.

On this day, January 21, 2008, the day we set aside to honor Martin Luther King, Jr. and to remember his "I Have A Dream" speech, the Civil Rights Acts, the marches and protests for civil liberties and freedoms, I would like to honor the woman who first taught me about "Dr King".

Our shared story is told in Dear Daisy, my first novel inspired by and dedicated to my "adopted Grandmother". The Lake Ontario Shoreline of Upstate New York is the place I call home and where my heart will always center to the farm, this place God gave me to connect each harvest season with Daisy. I will forever be grateful for this relationship and for the wisdom Daisy shared with a "boss man's" child under cherry and apple trees. It will always be etched upon my heart that Daisy, my Angel friend on Earth 1959 through the 60's, years later mystically reappeared my Angel from Heaven to guide this grown child on her pathway back Home.

A quote from Dear Daisy expresses best why Daisy is honored in the NWHF Book of Lives and Legacies... "I hoped the World would sense the role Black Grandmothers play today, and especially the role Colored Grandmothers played in the transition from "slave" or "free slave" to soil and fruits; each day establishing roots and opportunity branches children and children's children know today. This would be my dream. My heart pictured Daisy's rightful time to speak, an "illiterate" adopted Colored Grandmother, a poor migrant traveler rich in Soul and Spirit bridging generations and color divide, a leader in Dr. King's positive peace army."

She will forever be known to myself, friends and family by her less formal name, "Daisy". She didn't need a civil rights movement. Her presence, love and compassion told all there was to learn. Daisy used the canvas life gave her and planted seeds in fertile ground; hearts.

Daisy, my friend, Love Always,

"Miz Jane"

On September 8, 2010 hearing songs playing the airwaves for hatred and intolerance and voices of compassion, religious freedom, and tolerance competing...I wrote.

"I heard the songs, "Amazing Grace" and "We Shall Overcome" that year on that day, 9/12. The song waves hung with the dust for awhile...at least until other voices started to sing another song, the cry of war and retaliation.

I wrote then and now of the teachable moment and the healing potential then available in Dear Daisy, (written between 1999 and copyright release, 2004). I questioned there, too the wisdom or lack of, watching my country choose to follow false leadership and distortion of truths, and sit through the "shock and awe" of war, rather than listen to the song of the sparrow.

There is something powerful in education and learning called the Teachable Moment. In healing arts there is a Healing Moment where there is pure alignment of the physical-emotional-spiritual. On 9/12 we had both a Teachable Moment and a Healing Moment very visible and palpable centering and radiating from the heart and soul of NYC and the field of Pennsylvania...to the World. We lost that moment 2001. We've lived and continue to live and pay for those choices. What will we do on this the 9 year anniversary? Another moment of choosing..." (Rising Sparrow)

2010, the song, "Dear Daisy" was born.

Based on the book "Dear Daisy" by Jane Marla Ver Dow

Though the years they may change us
Some things in life forever remain
Like those years we spent together
Living life its joys and pain

You taught me all 'bout honesty
How the truth would set me free
Like a teacher you inspired me
Each day beneath that Cherry tree

Chorus)
Now "Dear Daisy" as I write this letter
Though eyes can't see I know you're there
I feel your presence surround me
Your angel wings as they brush my hair

Your smile my summer mornin' Sun
Your wisdom my guide no end
Your actions more than words spoken
Showed me I had a special friend

(Chorus)
Now "Dear Daisy" as I write this letter
Though eyes can't see I know you're there
I feel your presence surround me
Your angel wings as they brush my hair

(Bridge)
Say everything now there's a reason
Not in ours but in God's time
A path our lasting friendship
Enough love to last a lifetime

(Chorus)
Now "Dear Daisy" as I write this letter
Though eyes can't see I know you're there
I feel your presence surround me
Your angel wings as they brush my hair

"Dear Daisy"

© Buddy Sutton June 09 2010

Additional Lyrics Jane Marla Ver Dow

Vocal Version, "Dear Daisy" was recorded, August, 2010.

"Dear Daisy" song based on book, Dear Daisy by Jane Marla VerDow

"Dear Daisy" Lyrics: Buddy Sutton (Waterford, Ireland)

Additional Lyrics Jane Marla VerDow

Music Composition and Final Music Mix : Hiroshi Takatani (Hyogo, Japan)

Vocalist: Barbara Hunn (Williamson, New York)

Vocal Recording : Andy Calabrese, Calabrese Recording Studio, (Pittsford, New York)

Photos and Video : Jane VerDow

The Full Orchestra Version (Demo-approaching final mix) was shared as August turned to September. Theme Song "Dear Daisy" by Hiroshi Takatani

"Theme from Dear Daisy" Video Dedicated to 911 survivors.

We create the world each day with our choices.
One choice- one candle and candles united in purpose...ignite the fire of destruction.

My view this choice would follow
"In protest of what it calls a religion "of the devil," a nondenominational church in Gainesville, Florida, plans to host an "International Burn a Quran Day" on the ninth anniversary of the September 11, 2001, attacks...The Dove World Outreach Center says it is hosting the event to remember 9/11 victims and take a stand against Islam...it invites Christians to burn the Muslim holy book at the church..."
One candle, Pastor Terry Jones.

I see some caught between choices with the Islamic Center at Ground Zero debate. Pain is hard to tell another to let go of, the message has to come from within.
Respect, tolerance, understanding on all sides, and with more time passing...maybe a solution of hearts and minds will know the path to choose.

One choice - one candle and candles united in purpose create the World's path of creation and life

One candle, NYC Singing Policeman, Daniel Rodriguez

Or maybe hearing the message from September 11th Families for Peaceful Tomorrows

So I repeat here once again my message...

"As individuals and as churches, we have need to determine if our mission is to light candles and to keep candles lit, or to blow candles out. I still believe that one candle and that candles united in purpose create the World’s path of creation and life, or can be used to ignite the fire of destruction. If we seek Peace, whether the War is between Nations or the War is between peoples, our own stone and our own flame is really all that any of us have control over."

~ Jane Marla VerDow, Author of Dear Daisy

And I leave you with my words, my personal story, a question and a statement from Dear Daisy

"Violence delivered by others of this World in the name of Allah, is a "sin", yet violence in the name of God is a "virtue" ? I ask, what is the value of one sparrow or one person to thousands in the eyes of Allah or God? He created each one on their day. God is God regardless of His Name."

~ Epistle written by Jane Marla VerDow, February 14th, 2002 (message addressed to Christian Faith and Church)

Autographed Copies of Book Dear Daisy available through Author : Rising Sparrow Press

or unsigned copies through PayPal on this blog.

September 2010

2010-09-06T17:31:00.011-04:00

September, two Festival Weekends with Rising Sparrow Press hosting an Author's Tent for local authors.

Books Etc of Macedon and Village Bookmarket of Palmyra will be sponsoring a second tent for local authors. (For Lumberjack Festival both "tents" will be vending space indoors).

Authors from Wayne, Monroe, and Ontario Counties will be there discussing and autographing their books, sharing writing and book promotion projects, and to answer any questions you may have about writing-creating books and publishing pathways.

Lumberjack Festival Macedon

28th annual Macedon Center Community Lumberjack Festival September 11 & 12, 2010

Canaltown Days Palmyra

September 18 & 19, 2010

Rising Sparrow Press, est.2003 by Author Jane Marla VerDow is an Independent Publishing Company.

Current Title: Dear Daisy

Hardcover, case bound, 384 pages, nonfiction-spiritual Publisher Rising Sparrow Press $27.95

A nonfiction, spiritual memoir, Dear Daisy is the storyteller’s journal recording footsteps on her life path from days long ago shared with her friend, Daisy (1960′s) to the 911 aftermath. Sharing humor, visions, dreams, heartbreaks and challenges, Jane Marla VerDow has written a compelling account that both entertains and challenges one’s soulful reflection. Written in a unique style the author refers to as “language layers”, Dear Daisy has been described by readers as “enchanting”, “ profoundly written”, and “courageous.”

"Childhood is nothing more than, absolutely nothing less than, the courage to discover for the first time with innocence and openness, the faith and passion to explore the next, and the inner wisdom to sense the value of each moment along the path."

~ Jane Marla VerDow, Dear Daisy

"A dream of a child from under a cherry tree...
that came to be under an apple tree...
For everything there is a season"

~ Jane Marla VerDow, Rising Sparrow

As the story begins, the author caught in a personal struggle of survival under conditions felt oppressive, writes to Daisy. As the reflective search for self and path unfolds, the 9-11-01 story strikes as a Holy War between extremists of Nations. Before the dust settles, 10-28-01 brings world chaos personal. Living the aftermath, the author struggles to forgive and declares through writing an Epistle as part of her emancipation pathway that violence as a rightful expression and worship of God is not the God of her faith.

Dear Daisy is dedicated by the author to her friend, Daisy whose warmth taught her love, whose gift of patience taught her to search for patience with others, and whose soul taught her strength equal to compassion.

In honor of Daisy, Author, Jane Marla VerDow will be donating 10% of all Dear Daisy book sales to Love Is The Answer to assist HIV/AIDS orphaned children of Uganda.

Author, Jane Marla VerDow will be available for Dear Daisy book signings, to answer self and independent publishing pathway questions, and to share print, photo, and video projects Rising Sparrow Press is currently working on these final months of 2010.

Interested in memoir writing or family and event scrapbooking? Jane shares your interest and hobby. Samples of what can be done to enhance with writing and storytelling will be available.

"Dear Daisy" Theme Song

2010-09-04T16:02:00.011-04:00

"Dear Daisy" by Jane Marla VerDow

Theme Song "Dear Daisy" by Hiroshi Takatani

Featuring "Dear Daisy" song lyrics by Buddy Sutton

Additional song lyrics and video storyline by Author Jane Marla VerDow

The question most often posed by readers after reading "Dear Daisy":

"How did you find the patience with people, the arrogance from those claiming to be Christians?"

My answer:
I held courage that moment...through the grace of God.
I searched my heart for patience that moment and the minutes after...through the grace of God I found it on some level.

The overcoming minutes I mostly searched to find something else...first strength and courage to hold my ground...boundaries, so many levels violated then and after in that room...arrogant.

Next observing people, drifting in and out from wishing for or expecting an awakening from those there who shared the moment, watched, observed and did nothing.
I expected people to wake up, to own truthfulness of what they had witnessed. Rather, moving on to the next scripture or next hymn or song, or to hear the sound of their own voices...as if nothing had happened,expecting more from me...some declaration of my faith that day...arrogant.

After, next days and weeks...the cover-up and justifications...some God package or God way (theirs) I was to accept and "grow to become a mature Christian".
Hearing that, nothing could grow there except anger. That confirmed my feeling that in faith there was no room in my heart that I would allow for that level of arrogance from another.

I looked to the skies at night. I revisited next weeks my Lake and believed in what my Lakewaters had revealed to me that June day of 2001. I trusted my God and my Faith. To move beyond this 1028 day 2001 I trusted the words and guidance Jesus had given..."dust your feet" and move on...

I've spent the years following finding my way, trusting my faith, searching my mind for understanding. On a personal side, I search to understand why 1028, the reason.
The day 911, too comes as an anniversary when righteousness of another faith declared same message. Still now, each day I search to comprehend how righteous actions of people of all faiths, of all politics, the seekers and takers of power, the extremists continue to play on and on...

Each day I search my heart each step I travel to forgive. That's my part to play. I owe that to me, not for them.

I've come to a place of hindsight, now knowing more than I did back then when Dear Daisy was being lived and written. I have come to accept "it" and the meaning of my life. That has nothing to do with others, never did, especially none of them.

Recording Dear Daisy the Song

2010-08-23T18:08:00.010-04:00

"Dear Daisy" song based on book, Dear Daisy by Jane Marla VerDow

"Dear Daisy" Lyrics: Buddy Sutton (Waterford, Ireland)

Additional Lyrics Jane Marla VerDow

Music Composition and Final Music Mix : Hiroshi Takatani (Hyogo, Japan)

Vocalist: Barbara Hunn (Williamson, New York)

Vocal Recording : Andy Calabrese, Calabrese Recording Studio, (Pittsford, New York)

Photos and Video : Jane VerDow

Autographed Copies of Book Dear Daisy available through Author : www.risingsparrowpress.com
or by emailing author.

or unsigned copies through PayPal on this blog.

"Dear Daisy"

Based on the book "Dear Daisy" by Jane Marla Ver Dow

Though the years they may change us

Some things in life forever remain

Like those years we spent together

Living life its joys and pain

You taught me all 'bout honesty

How the truth would set me free

Like a teacher you inspired me

Each day beneath that Cherry tree

(Chorus)

Now "Dear Daisy" as I write this letter

Though eyes can't see I know you're there

I feel your presence surround me

Your angel wings as they brush my hair

Your smile my summer mornin' Sun

Your wisdom my guide no end

Your actions more than words spoken

Showed me I had a special friend

(Chorus)

Now "Dear Daisy" as I write this letter

Though eyes can't see I know you're there

I feel your presence surround me

Your angel wings as they brush my hair

(Bridge)

Say everything now there's a reason

Not in ours but in God's time

A path our lasting friendship

Enough love to last a lifetime

(Chorus)

Now "Dear Daisy" as I write this letter

Though eyes can't see I know you're there

I feel your presence surround me

Your angel wings as they brush my hair

"Dear Daisy"

© Buddy Sutton June 09 2010
Additional Lyrics Jane Marla Ver Dow

"Dear Daisy" Book Trailer

2010-08-17T10:19:00.008-04:00

"Dear Daisy" Book Trailer

"Dear Daisy"

Based on the book "Dear Daisy" by Jane Marla Ver Dow

Though the years they may change us

Some things in life forever remain

Like those years we spent together

Living life its joys and pain

You taught me all 'bout honesty

How the truth would set me free

Like a teacher you inspired me

Each day beneath that Cherry tree

(Chorus)

Now "Dear Daisy" as I write this letter

Though eyes can't see I know you're there

I feel your presence surround me

Your angel wings as they brush my hair

Your smile my summer mornin' Sun

Your wisdom my guide no end

Your actions more than words spoken

Showed me I had a special friend

(Chorus)

Now "Dear Daisy" as I write this letter

Though eyes can't see I know you're there

I feel your presence surround me

Your angel wings as they brush my hair

(Bridge)

Say everything now there's a reason

Not in ours but in God's time

A path our lasting friendship

Enough love to last a lifetime

(Chorus)

Now "Dear Daisy" as I write this letter

Though eyes can't see I know you're there

I feel your presence surround me

Your angel wings as they brush my hair

"Dear Daisy"

© Buddy Sutton June 09 2010
Additional Lyrics Jane Marla Ver Dow

Music Hiroshi Takatani

This is instrumental and lyric version of "Dear Daisy" without vocals or melody

I have been blessed to be involved at every level of bringing this forward. A dream come true.

Special thank-you to Buddy Sutton (Ireland) and Hiroshi Takatani (Japan), my friends from my greater universe and world. A dream come true.

Interesting side notes:
June 9, the day the lyrics of "Dear Daisy" were first written would have been a likely day of June to hear from Daisy and Jim when I was a child sharing with my family the probable date they would arrive up North for the year and harvest season.

June 21, 2010 was the date I first heard demo of song "Dear Daisy"...so based upon time zones and posting, was written June 20 or 21st.

June 2o or 21, of any year were the most common dates that they would arrive "home" on the farm with my family.

June 21, 2001 was a significant date in my life with the story told in book, "Dear Daisy".

Life moments, how they happen, and the Timing...Amazing !!

Local Authors and Books at the Seneca Falls Arts Festival July 24, 2010

2010-07-18T16:24:00.006-04:00

July 24th, 2010 (one day only), local authors of Upstate New York will once again come together under the Authors Tent. The event: The Seneca Falls Arts Festival. Meet local authors from Williamson, Marion, Canandaigua, Rochester and have a copy of their books autographed.

Seneca Falls, Woman’s Rights, beautiful Seneca Lake one of NYS Finger Lakes all near-by. The Festival and Art Show is happening Saturday, July 24th, 2010 (10 AM-4 PM) at People’s Park, Seneca Falls.

Local Authors attending this year:

Author Michael Pealo, author of August Storms: Journey Of An Abused Woman. Michael became aware of the tragedy women trapped in abusive relationships, especially attempting to free themselves from an abusive relationship face while serving in his nursing career. Heart-mind struggle to understand, Michael researched this serious issue and wrote his book based upon true life experiences.

Michael Pealo is passionate about telling this story, increasing public awareness, educating women and travels nationally to share the truth he discovered.

Donna Bennett, author of Petey and the Mean Pirates is a delightful 27 page paperback children’s book (ages Preschool-4th Grade) that appeals to both kids and parents, alike. Written to speak to the common childhood belief that all pirates have to be rough and tough and aggressive, Petey the pirate is different, using something other than swords, angry words, and bullying. The Ice Cream Pirates, an “illustrate your own” and “create your own depictions of the storyline”, teaches children the basics of entrepreneurship as they help the pirates open their own ice cream shop. A 27 page paperback (First-Fifth Grade), a book you and your child will cherish forever.

Also available from Three Chiquitas Publishing, Sherry Widmer’s Wild Animal Kid Songs, a compact disc (CD) and Seven Days At Camp EAGR!, a children’s book (written for the Epilepsy Association of Rochester-Syracuse-Binghamton) increases awareness about childhood epilepsy. Author website / Three Chiquitas Publishing Website

Jane Marla VerDow, author of Dear Daisy and upcoming title, Rising Sparrow, both editions Independent Published by Rising Sparrow Press. Dear Daisy, Hardcover, case bound, 384 page, nonfiction-spiritual memoir is the storyteller’s journal. Rising Sparrow Press designed both books to reflect a book of the 1960’s era in pre dustcover style, book layout, short storytelling format, time era language and values. Sharing humor, visions, dreams, heartbreaks and challenges, Jane Marla VerDow has written a compelling account that both entertains and challenges one’s soulful reflection and has been described by readers as “enchanting”, “profoundly written”, and “courageous.”

Rising Sparrow Press also produces and publishes book related items, photography, postcards, and prints. An education background, Jane teaches self-independent publishing, author promotion pathways, creative writing-media projects, and speaks on nonviolence topics. Rising Sparrow Press Website

Author Brooks Tenney, in his novel, Killing Mauritius depicts Islamic terrorism with the storyline set in the Indian Ocean. New Silk Road (novel) centered in Central Asia, deals with Afghanistan drug traffic reach to the world. The Ten Thousand Things is set along China’s ancient Silk Road and writes an account of China’s activities in the field of unmanned aerial vehicles.

Always an entertaining author-speaker, Brooks Tenney draws his writing and topics from his engineer training and professional background (Xerox, GE, and Chance Vought Aviation) and the author’s imagination to create his action-adventure fiction. In addition to the author’s crisp and entertaining writing, the reader is taken into the storyline by Tenney’s extensive topic and setting research. “Timely” and “thought-provoking”, all three books are great adult reads so well written as fiction, to cross the reader’s mind of the possibilities of nonfiction in our modern world.

Author Volunteers Time for Summer Read Program

2010-07-10T10:53:00.011-04:00

Williamson Free Public Library offers Summer Read Program

Calendar of Events at Williamson Free Public Library for July, 2010.

Press Release

On Monday, July 12 from 2-4 pm, local author and storyteller Jane VerDow will present a writer’s workshop for teens at the Williamson Free Public Library. A Williamson native and author of the nonfiction memoir Dear Daisy, Jane will discuss the opportunities for self-publishing and self promotion today and will provide advice and insight into developing a writer's own voice.

This event will be fully participatory, so if you have a laptop, bring it!

Jane will be on hand again on Monday, July 19 from 2-4 pm for a follow-up round table discussion. Teens are invited to bring their work to the library and get advice and feedback. This is your chance to learn from a professional!

These programs are free, and open to teens ages 13-18.

For more information, please call the library at (315) 589-2048.

2010-05-30T11:34:00.001-04:00

"Daisy, some day I'm gunna feed all them children in Africa."...big words spoken from heart when your mode of transport is a tricycle. How can a little one's dream...so off the wall...come true (in a small way, but HUGE way) against such obstacle as hunger and distance, then add the obstacle HIV/AIDS not even heard of ...when I was little? Makes one stop to think, and believe maybe anything really is possible...with belief it could be true or will be true...someday...as a child thinks.

I'll confess reading through this link, reading the kind words from Catherine...seeing Daisy there in the orchard...took a moment to head connect that my eyes were clouding over and full and my mouth was hangin' open. Then I saw me sitting on that tricycle smiling.

Love Is The Answer

Dear Daisy Autographed Copies / Rising Sparrow Press. Also available at Artisans' Loft Pultneyville and Independent Bookstores

2010-05-28T18:05:00.031-04:00

Autographed copies of Dear Daisy available through the Author. Email Author for Autographed Copy: jverdow@rochester.rr.com

Dear Daisy is featured and available for purchase at the Gallery of Artisans' Loft, The Landing at Pultneyville, NY

Upcoming Events Historic Pultneyville Homecoming July 17-18, 2010

Independent Bookstores that carry Dear Daisy:

Village Bookmarket, Main Street, Palmyra, New York Blog/Upcoming Events

Books Etc., Main Street, Macedon, NY

What readers are saying about Dear Daisy:

"I am reading "Dear Daisy" right now. From the start, Jane's writing style challenges the reader to really put themselves in the shoes of "little Janie". The words flow as if written by the author's thoughts themselves, not by hand. Very interesting approach, different, and actually quite refreshing.

The book's presentation itself is beautiful-hardcover with gold lettering. I love a print that will look nice in my glass pane built ins!" ~Seth C. Burgess/Wayne County Life

"Something about the way you make words into thought patterns, almost as if I were thinking them instead of reading them. They just seem to float effortlessly off the page. Beautiful." ~Armelle/France

"It took me six days to read it. It will take me a lifetime to understand." ~Frank (Beekeeper)/Rochester

"Dear Daisy is a mesmerizing account of Jane's early years growing up with Daisy, the person who most touched her life while growing up on her family farm" ~Nanette P. Hance/Artisan's Loft, The Landing at Pultneyville

"I couldn't put my book down" "Profoundly written"

"I plan to read Dear Daisy again. Fabulous"

"I could sense Daisy near" "Thought provoking"

"More than a book to read, an experience" "Courageous"

"Engaging and thoughtful; direct, truthful and honest"

"I love the short story format" "A trip down memory lane"

"I Loved it" "A keeper"

A nonfiction, spiritual memoir, Dear Daisy is the storyteller's journal recording footsteps on her life path from days long ago shared with her friend, Daisy (1960's) to the 911 aftermath. Sharing humor, vision, dreams, heartbreaks and challenges, Jane Marla VerDow has written a compelling account that both entertains and challenges one's soulful reflection. Written in a unique style the author refers to as "language layers", Dear Daisy has been described by readers as "enchanting", " profoundly written", and "courageous."

Born and raised on a fruit farm in Williamson, Jane is a storyteller by nature inspired by local stories, history, and nature's mysteries and gifts. The author invites the reader into the world and relationship between an illiterate migrant woman sharing her wisdom with a boss man’s child under cherry and apple trees during the early 1960's. Daisy, an Angel on Earth years later mystically reappears an Angel from Heaven to guide the grown child on her pathway back Home. Dear Daisy is dedicated by the author to her friend,Daisy whose warmth taught her love, whose gift of patience taught her to search for patience with others, and whose soul taught her strength equal to compassion.

Dear Daisy is the author's first novel inspired by and dedicated to her "adopted Grandmother". Recent years she has devoted her time to writing nonfiction and publishing her works through Rising Sparrow Press, established 2003 by the author in the spirit and tradition of Early American Literature. Hardcover bound, 384 pages, Dear Daisy was designed by Rising Sparrow Press to reflect a book of the era in pre dustcover style, book layout, short storytelling format, time era language and values.

For additional information about the author and upcoming writings and books: www.risingsparrowpress.com or enjoy the author's blogs www.storytellersandwriters.blogspot.com and www.lakeontarioshoreline.blogspot.com

Author Bio:
Jane Marla VerDow is a Farmer by roots, Teacher by degree, Physical Therapist by credentials, and Author by passion.
Recent years Jane has devoted her time to writing nonfiction and publishing her works through Rising Sparrow Press (est. 2003 by the author) in the spirit and tradition of Early American Literature.

Upcoming Author Events:

Book Signings and Festivals Author Tour

Dear Daisy is making a 10% contribution for all sales 2010 to HIV/AIDS Orphaned Children of Uganda / Love Is The Answer.

Love Is The Answer Information:

Purchase Autographed Copy : email Author jverdow@rochester.rr.com

Ordering direct through Author saves you shipping costs

Jane Marla VerDow
Rising Sparrow Press

Author Dear Daisy Book Tour Summer 2010

2010-05-27T20:53:00.005-04:00

I love to travel. I love to meet people and to share stories. I love Festivals. I love History and places along Lake Ontario and the Erie Canal, Upstate NY, and the Towns/Villages scattered throughout NY State. I love Photography. I am an Author.

So...why not do it all?

Author Schedule for Summer 2010

Village Bookmarket, Palmyra, NY June 5th 10 AM
Dear Daisy, author, Jane Marla VerDow story sharing and book signing and would love to answer questions about her book, upcoming titles, and to hear about your writing adventures.
Located in Historic Palmyra, a stop along the Erie Canal, Village Bookmarket is "A little store that's BIG on service. BOOKS: Used, Rare, Hard-to-Find, Out-of-Print, Old & Almost New, Local History, Local Authors, Wide Range of subjects, Hardcover, Paperback, Book Searches, Book Repair". Visit Village Bookmarket blog.

Seneca Falls Artisan Festival, July 24 (one day only). I (Rising Sparrow Press) have an invite and confirmation from festival and will be bringing several local authors along for this event. Meet local authors from Williamson, Marion, Canandaigua, Rochester and have a copy of their books autographed at the Authors Tent. Authors list is now being compiled and I will update as available prior to the Festival. Seneca Falls, Woman's Rights, beautiful Seneca Lake one of NYS Finger Lakes all near-by. The Festival and Art Show is happening Saturday, July 24th, 2010 (10 AM-4 PM) at People's Park, Seneca Falls.

Sunday, July 25th I will drive in the opposite direction to East Aurora for the 35th Annual East Aurora Carriage Drive & Competition. . The competition is July 25th and 26th, 2010. I have been invited to the event for picture taking and book signing, Dear Daisy. What an honor!!! Sample of what is to come: Photos

Next stop, another Historic place along the Erie Canal is Macedon, NY. July 31st 2 PM I will be at Books Etc. Here, I will sit down a spell in the quiet, peaceful space John Ceislinki creates at Books Etc., a coffee in hand, to share stories about writing Dear Daisy, the process of writing to independent publishing, swap stories with readers, and share a sneak peek of my next novel, Rising Sparrow.

August starts off with an "aarrrgggg" at the Pirates Festival, Palmyra, NY. Rising Sparrow Press will be hosting an Authors Tent with local authors from Wayne, Monroe, and Ontario Counties. Authors list is now being compiled and I will update as available prior to the Festival.

I'll be one of several local authors available to meet and book sign at the Wayne County Fair August 9-14, 2010 If I'm not at the Village Bookmarket and Books_Etc Booth, anyone knowing me would tell you to check the animal stalls, especially the little goats and horses; or I would be getting food, especially if they offer the clam bake; or strolling along the midway. I confess, I'm a big kid :)

September, still Summer left so a weekend at the Lumberjack Festival, Macedon, NY Sept. 11-12 seems like the best place to be. Rising Sparrow Press will be hosting an Authors Tent with local authors from Wayne, Monroe, and Ontario Counties. Authors list is now being compiled and I will update as available prior to the Festival.

My Last Stop of Summer will be Canal Town Days Palmyra, NY Sept. 18-19. Rising Sparrow Press will be hosting an Authors Tent with local authors from Wayne, Monroe, and Ontario Counties. Authors list is now being compiled and I will update as available prior to the Festival.

Love Is The Answer New Page on FaceBook

2010-05-26T16:18:00.013-04:00

Follow along with the Progress and Updates on HIV/AIDS Orphaned Uganda Children Projects and Support / Catherine Koch Love Is The Answer Facebook Page

Love Is The Answer New Facebook Page

Quote/Mission of Love Is The Answer Page:
"Building a bridge ... bringing Love and empowerment to orphaned children in Africa
and helping them share their Light with the world" ~

http://www.loveistheanswer.ca/

Rising Sparrow Press/Dear Daisy by Jane Marla VerDow is donating 10% of all 2010 Dear Daisy book sales to Love Is The Answer HIV/AIDS Orphaned Uganda Children.

Email Author for Autographed Copy: jverdow@rochester.rr.com

Ordering Direct thru Author saves you shipping costs.

Or Order Unsigned Dear Daisy NOW thru Pay Pal

Support for Sparrows

2010-05-20T10:33:00.010-04:00

Once upon a time...a little one made a promise to her friend, Daisy...and this week a step is taken. 10% of book sales of Dear Daisy, Author Jane Marla VerDow from Williamson Apple Blossom Festival (May 12th, 14th-16th/"Books in Blossom" theme) will be forwarded to the orphaned children of Uganda. May their homes be safe and may their dreams come true.

Announced May 18th, 2010, Rising Sparrow Press supports sparrows and has decided to extend this 10% contribution for all Dear Daisy books sales this year.

"Not one sparrow can fall to the ground without your Father knowing it". ~Matthew 10:29

Dear Daisy is making a 10% contribution for all sales 2010 to Love Is The Answer.

Love Is The Answer Information:
http://loveistheanswer.ca/

Most recent news from Uganda/Catherine Koch blog posting at Love Is The Answer:
Uganda Flooding and the Children

Details on Dear Daisy

Autographed Books are Available through the Author:

Email: jverdow@rochester.rr.com

Purchase Direct from Rising Sparrow Press/Author for autographed copies.

Rising Sparrow Press if purchased direct thru Author pays book rate postage for orders in USA

Library of Congress Cataloging Number: 2004091496
Ver Dow, Jane Marla
Dear Daisy : a novel / Jane Marla Ver Dow
First Printing June 2004
Hardcover 384 pages
ISBN 1-932878-03-3
1. Spiritual -- Nonfiction. I. Title.
$ 27.95
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2
Printed in the United States of America

Conversion Update Number :
ISBN-13 Conversion # : 978-1-932878-03-5

Dear Daisy, nonfiction, reads as life is presented day- to-day and by seasons. The author, a gifted storyteller invites the reader into the world and relationship between a Migrant Woman sharing her wisdom with a boss man’s child under cherry and apple trees during the early 1960's. Daisy, an Angel on Earth years later mystically reappears an Angel from Heaven to guide the grown child on her pathway back Home.

Dear Daisy tells a story 2000 years old yet reminds us how challenges continue to play out and that we each contribute to writing the story.

As the story begins, the author caught in a personal struggle of survival under conditions felt oppressive, writes to Daisy. As the reflective search for self and path unfolds, the 9-11-01 story strikes as a Holy War between extremists of Nations. Before the dust settles, 10-28-01 brings world chaos personal. Living the assault aftermath, the author struggles to forgive and declares through writing an Epistle as part of her emancipation pathway that violence as a rightful expression and worship of God is not the God of her faith.

To read what readers are saying about Dear Daisy
http://www.risingsparrowpress.com/readers.htm

To receive an author signed copy email author: jverdow@rochester.rr.com with mailing details and to specify name if you wish.
Hardcover price: $27.95 (plus tax)

Bullying; Powerful Video and Voices From Youth

2010-04-10T20:14:00.022-04:00

This post is another keeping of the promise to the sparrow.

April is the Month for remembering the Value of Children and that high risk children and families need support...in all ways our hearts can find and every day. (April:National Child Abuse Prevention Month)

I was so impressed with this video and message from Youth wisdom, I wish to share.

An Excerpt from Rising Sparrow, Jane Marla VerDow

Content I had done all that could be done in these first hours, proud and at peace,I sat down to breathe, book in hand, and cracked the cover of Dear Daisy with the intent to read the story I had written.
An author, first book…heart open to explore what pages had transformed to become, now bound between hardcover. Discovery, exploration, touching land…all of this I felt…

Still…Life does not stop for this. Life has a way of not allowing itself to be edited out. I can’t tell you what page I was on when the phone rang. I can tell you not more than one-third way through I learned that where the author ends a book is often times not where the story chooses to end. A sparrow, one close to my heart, too overcome and challenged by this world, had fallen to the ground. Disbelief how life had written this epilogue chapter...days later I returned and continued to read the story I had written sensing this sparrow reading by my side. The author’s copy of Dear Daisy will forever hold my tears.

As for the fallen sparrow?
I had made a promise as we read Dear Daisy together, him There, me here…
I would not ignore nor turn my back on sparrows needing voice. Their song, his song would be heard.

Jane Marla Ver Dow
Author, Rising Sparrow Press

Books by Author:
Dear Daisy tells my story...Rising Sparrow is "my new shoes"

Autographed Books by the Author are Available

Content Synopsis/Dear Daisy

Dear Daisy, nonfiction, reads as life is presented day- to-day and by seasons. The author, a gifted storyteller invites the reader into the world and relationship between a Colored illiterate Migrant Woman sharing her wisdom with a boss man’s child under cherry and apple trees during the early 1960's. Daisy, an Angel on Earth years later mystically reappears an Angel from Heaven to guide the grown child on her pathway back Home.

Dear Daisy tells a story 2000 years old yet reminds us how challenges continue to play out and that we each contribute to writing the story.

As the story begins, the author caught in a personal struggle of survival under conditions felt oppressive, writes to Daisy. As the reflective search for self and path unfolds, the 9-11-01 story strikes as a Holy War between extremists of Nations. Before the dust settles, 10-28-01 brings world chaos personal. Living the assault aftermath, the author struggles to forgive and declares through writing an Epistle as part of her emancipation pathway that violence as a rightful expression and worship of God is not the God of her faith.

Previous writing on this blog, Click Labels for this post

(Sample)
http://storytellersandwriters.blogspot.com/2007/03/promise-kept.html

Bullying, Harassment, Assault, Teen Suicide, Bullying the Bully ...When do we reach Enough?

2010-04-10T13:49:00.025-04:00

Teen Bullying: Special Series
by Lucinda Franks

Lucinda Franks is a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist and author who was on the staff of the New York Times and has written for the New Yorker and the New York Times Book Review and Magazine. Her latest book is My Father's Secret War, about her father, who was a spy for the OSS during World War II.

http://www.thedailybeast.com/blogs-and-stories/2010-03-31/teen-bullying-special-series/tmz?obref=obinsite

I strongly encourage you to read through comments following each post. Ponder this question: Any wonder our children are lost and bullying is the epidemic and escalated violence that it has become?

As for the fallen sparrow?
I had made a promise as we read Dear Daisy together...now, yet
another There, me here…
I would not ignore nor turn my back on sparrows needing voice. Their song would be heard.

Editorial as written by author, Jane Marla VerDow to newspaper (2004)

Not Just Kids Play
"...Though our emotional shock is focused on the attack(s) may we remember that failure to provide, failure to act is an equal atrocity under terms of child abuse laws. As I read her article I noted: 2nd grade to fifth grade (time), multiple attacks (events to document), progressive violence (pattern), children reporting and demonstrating symptoms (victim voices), adults knowing (witness), policies written (criteria). What proof of circumstance are we looking for or who’s voice are we waiting to hear before action can lead towards a path to peaceful resolution?..."

"...Before we drift back to sleep dreams may we open our eyes and ears to realize that this is not an isolated event reported one day in a newspaper, our newspaper. Bullying is real and children are unprepared to face this alone or to resolve what society creates on pathways where justice is denied. We all are invested in the outcome. By what higher standards will we each hold ourselves accountable? Time will tell the story. While time passes and the Summer Sun provides its light may we reflect upon this question: Are we so concerned with how our Institutions look to a community that we fail to wonder how we appear to our children?"

Jane Marla Ver Dow
Author, Dear Daisy, Rising Sparrow Press

(Full Post:

For additional related posts on this blog, click Labels school violence, bullying, Rising Sparrow

Censorship

2010-04-07T12:19:00.003-04:00

Hosting Activism in Art Spaces - Short Version from freeDimensional on Vimeo.

My words: At what cost, censorship? What purpose does censorship serve a society?
At what cost do we preserve institutions of a society that fail to live up to their foundation, values, message, and mission? What cost, Power?

Be the change you dream for your community, society, World.

Jane Marla VerDow

Pictures and Words

2010-03-27T14:10:00.001-04:00

One word: Values

Five words: Wrong on So Many Levels

My words: I pray I never ever see this behavior in my lifetime again

Nonviolent Liberty

2010-03-26T14:19:00.014-04:00

As a writer I struggle with what to write at this point. I must write, it is written in the heart, and any writer will tell you that it is impossible to keep there long.

Does a writer risk to inflame an already tense society or let all settle down in hopes that emotions will ebb and flow allowing intelligence a better time to read? Or, is that never an issue for a writer?, more the responsibility of a reader to read what they will of your words or what they read into your words?

I have always taken this responsibility to heart when writing, searching to find the right words, better said the best sequence of words for my message delivery. Words I write or purposefully omit are to encourage discovery on the path we temporarily share. Perhaps I think about such things more than I should. At risk, creativity? or a fine tuning of intended message. All I do know for certain is I felt that responsibility writing, Dear Daisy and I still hold myself accountable to that value.

I've always encouraged the reader to turn the page, for no writer can write of their own heart, their own thoughts, open also to the heart-thoughts of their society on a single page. Not if we are to believe in next days, our own growth and discovery, and that the reader is on same path.

My heart-mind design,created by Someone Wiser than I and All-Knowing more my path than I could ever see day-to-day,is not the easiest to comprehend, still my job to figure out how to blend. An agitator just enough to spark awakening; a teacher just enough to find patience; a mediator for I have always been between two thoughts, both my own and those of others; a healer just enough to hold compassion; all a balancing of the same mind-heart. Of that, this day is not unlike most days I've lived and the writer within knows this truth.

Many times since days of high school, I've been told I write ahead of the times. Maybe true, or maybe why I feel the tension of a now or a then to a sometime coming. So here I'll share past writing and hope it is viewed by reader as I sense it to correlate to this today.

Many others have commented over the years that they can sense and read my child in my writings. I hope this true. Children I've ever known were awake, less inhibited to speak the truth they see and witness, yet more caring than we later learn to become. So room for my child to be present, to tag along, and to inform me when I sense grounded inner knowing wisdom required is more than alright with me.

History speaking, I've known a yesterday much like this today. Faced with an event I most wanted to move on from, then I had a conversation with an advocate friend and we spoke there of his work promoting nonviolence and my heart-mind, same. He asked what I needed to find my first steps towards resolution. I answered, "I've decided to write an Epistle." He echoed, "an Epistle, that's interesting." Then questioned, "why an Epistle?" I, certain he already knew, answered, "I figure, if Paul could, Jane can."

So with this Epistle, dated February 12, 2002, much of my faith statement is written, at least the foundation of what I believe. Following is a couple pages from that Epistle. I present it here because on this day these words represent how I feel about our current US conflict of heart, and I hope will better serve my expression than any statement I could offer or write specific to violence over a health care issue.

"The Jesus story to me is the foundation of positive peace and love, always bending toward Truth and most times Truth we care least to hear, or will cost us time and energy to do effort or to do nothing. His was the path and the footsteps retaken by St. Francis, Gandhi, Dr. King, suffragists for all causes; the path of patience, teaching, and healing. It is the story of boundaries and respect for it is grounded in the real, the here and now, and the physical body. It is the path of inner peace receiving the gifts of creation, the gift of life, the respect of all life and the sacredness of each. It is the walk with those less fortunate or those mobility restricted by society's biases, lack of empathy, or unwillingness to accept diversity in God's creation. It is the fight, always nonviolent and boundary honoring when passing Peace and Love, resisting temptation, overcoming evil, defending or marching for the "lesser" or "injured". It is "holding" and supporting with compassion without exception. It is the time of rescue or sacrifice (in word or deed) when another is in danger that will do harm to self or other; giving assistance running towards a collapsing building, life, or chaotic broken society; advocating dissent when destruction is done to God's Space and Earth.

His was the path that taught us that we each have our own, and it is our responsibility to keep loyal to the path and open to overcoming the challenges and temptations along our way. He is the One who taught us to have faith and hope in God as we face challenges and give thanks to God for our blessings. He spoke of love and mercy for our enemies as well as for our friends, and to treat others as we would wish to be treated. Jesus taught us to balance Spirit-Soul, to seek solitude, meditation, and contemplation to know God and to listen, and to walk back into the World to serve. He is the One who by example spoke to "us" so that we would know Truth when we hear it in words others speak along our paths, so that we'd sense those words as if He were speaking through them in this now or words that through the ages resonate and never die. Such words as "For every door that shuts, a window opens" or the song "We Shall Overcome", or the question, "Did your God teached you that?" (spoken by a slave)." (Dear Daisy)

Justice Learned Hand, "The Spirit of Liberty" excerpt from Speech, Central Park, New York City, May 21, 1944

"Liberty lies in the hearts of men and woman; when if dies there, no constitution, no law, no court can save it; no constitution, no law, no court can even do much to help it. The spirit of liberty is the spirit which is not too sure that it is right; the spirit of liberty is the spirit which weighs their understanding alongside its own without bias; the spirit of liberty remembers that not even a sparrow falls to earth unheeded; the spirit of liberty is the spirit that taught mankind the lesson it has never learned, but has never quite forgotten; that there may be a kingdom where the least shall be heard and considered side by side with the greatest."

(Quote shared in Dear Daisy)

The last paragraph of the Epistle reads:

"Don't let the wilderness scare you and never fear the work of the Soul. Protect your Soul for it is the essence of who you are, how God sees you in His Greater Vision, the eyes we use to seek our true selves, the pathway back to God. Don't let the fears of self or fears of others hold you back from doing good works, from being true to your heart as God knows your heart, and from finding true happiness and being content. Listen to your inner wisdom and voice, keep an ear to the ground and the other towards Heaven for maybe God will answer a prayer or an Angel will sing. The Waters are deep and the Ground is fertile. God loves to listen to songs in the fields for they are the Prayers of Mobility sung in harmony with the wind and help to push the clouds aside to let His Sun shine down. I know this Truth; God makes a path for all His Children, keeps watch above, holds us in the palm of His Hands, and Jesus walked the footsteps.

God Bless our Path and Keep the Faith,

Jane"

Politically Correct

2010-03-15T13:56:00.015-04:00

Think maybe Politics goes too far when it comes to what you can or can not write that goes for/against someone/thing these days?

See two stamps below I created from my photos to make into stamps, because I could. I really wasn't thinking I had an agenda.

This Stamp was Approved.

support our zoos - respect my home - respect earth

The second Stamp was "Not Approved" / Design incorporates material the primary purpose of which is to advocate or protest any particular religious, social, political, legal or moral agenda of any person or entity. What was written on Stamp?? Support Polar Bears - Respect Earth. Photo used?

Personally, I now think viewing both stamps together that the look on the first animal's face was far more threatening than the second one napping.

So I guess it was my writing that was the issue.

Maybe it was the oversight on my part...I did use Capital Letters on the second stamp. I raised my voice. :)

Or maybe the word support...no, wait I used "support" in making both stamps.

Or maybe supporting a nonprofit or profit institutionalized habitat is more politically correct than just supporting the natural habitat of an animal.

Notice I didn't use "Earth" capitalized in that last sentence. I didn't want to press my limit.

Truth be told, when writing I tend to capitalize Earth and Heaven and Lake and Sparrow (sometimes) because I value those words and what they represent to me. Here's the good news...you can capitalize any word you want to, too. Because you can. If that's Freedom of Speech, so be it. I just feel people should be able to value what they choose to value without anyone needing to judge, block or control their path or expression.

Truth told, I do like and value Polar Bears and Earth. The fact that I singled out Polar Bears does not mean I don't also value other animals or humans for that matter. Didn't mean to offend anyone not valuing Polar Bears or Earth by my bold political statement.

Now that I am more aware, I am going to look long and hard at the stamps I lick. Come to think of it, I've never been asked and have not approved any stamps I've been told by the USPS to use for whatever postage is required to send my message. Maybe each stamp should be passed through Congress. That ought to delay postal rate increases for a while.

I have had choices. My most recent choice was the Simpson Stamps. I just kind of find them funny. Somehow made my bill paying a fun thing to do. Never gave much thought to who doesn't like the Simpsons or even if one or more of the characters have ever said or done anything offensive on their TV show.

Where have the days gone when people could stand for what they believed (or didn't) and other people just lived/let live not needing to control or silence other or beliefs of other?

Where have the days gone where people could just Be without having to be Done Unto?

Leaders Are the Change

2010-03-15T00:17:00.004-04:00

I love this video. So many I've admired in one video.

Happy Birthday, Mr. Einstein. Thanks for your Science but mostly thank-you for your late year writings;philosophical insight and speaking out to protect Mother Earth.

Courage. It's always required courage; each step taken and every space held.

Publishing Behind the Scenes Photo Takes

2010-03-08T13:06:00.015-05:00

Spring is coming!!!

Yesterday I walked the North Olmsted Trail/Seneca Park.
The trail was still snow covered uneven and the sun at 9AM was there then gone, then back again, still it felt great walking about with my camera. By 10 AM the sun was more consistent. After the Meetup Photo Group dispersed I thought, (hey, I'm right here...the Zoo.)...

So I spent a couple hours with the animals. Upgrades over these past years, Seneca Park Zoo is becoming more "natural" habitat centered.

Took the long way home by way of Charlotte Beach and Braddocks Bay, Lake Ontario Southern Shoreline. Lake was layer multi-colored depending upon how far off shore I focused my camera.
I walked the pier almost to the end lighthouse although snow-ice-slush covered. My legs tired of hiking snow and uneven terrain all day, so I opted for shoreline shots. The advantage of walking the pier was close-up shots of floating ice chunks and graters so glad I did all but the last 70 feet.

North Trail Seneca Park / Charlotte Lakeshore Photo Album

(before clicking link, Bookmark this page to return)

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2985&id=100000827497643&l=f889d64fcb

Seneca Park North Trail and Pond / Zoo Photo Album

(before clicking this link, Bookmark this page to return)
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2981&id=100000827497643&l=59450a9a2e

More information on Seneca Park (Olmsted Horticultural Projects):

http://www.landmarksociety.org/section.html?id=1&uid=53

For information on Photography and other Meet Up Groups:

http://wwww.Meetup.com

Women Blogging Directory

2010-03-06T18:28:00.012-05:00

Storytellers and Writers Blog

and Lake Ontario Shoreline Blog

Both are listed on the Women Blogging Directory, Blogs By Women.

The Directory has now expanded to include over 3,000 blogs written by women.

Blogs By Women provides a gallery page displaying blog images for quick visual attraction/blog title and direct link to actual blog/full viewing.

Search by Category or Topic (or) Title or Part of Title (or) URL

Rising Sparrow Press loves how Blogs By Women Updates blog postings and the Professional Display of Each Blog on this site.

Follow link below to visit their Directory site to see for yourself

To add your blog to this Directory :

_______
Author: Jane Marla VerDow, Dear Daisy; Independent Publishing: Rising Sparrow Press, est. 2003.

Visit Author Website http://www.risingsparrowpress.com/
Blogs:
Storytellers and Writers (Blogspot)
http://lakeontarioshoreline.blogspot.com/

Networks:
http://www.youtube.com/user/JaneMarlaVerDow
http://www.facebook.com/people/Jane-VerDow/100000827497643
http://twitter.com/JaneVerDow
http://www.myspace.com/janemarlaverdow

The Times We Are Living

2010-03-02T16:38:00.006-05:00

Been spending most of my day on the Internet. Not sure how many hours each week I spend there...mostly educating myself in this ever-changing, ever-evolving publishing world...then sharing with others on my path what I've discovered.

Just coming off last night, a late "work", no "play" night really, attending an interactive Webinar. Topic: WebTV broadcasting. Researching the possibilities...I woke up and there I found myself watching TV shows and Movie clips on line, saving some to my Playlists.

When I was a child...I never would have dreamed it possible that "someday" would bring watching my favorite TV show when I wanted and not at some network scheduled time. The fact that I am watching TV on a computer screen...well I'm still adjusting to but liking what I'm adjusting to. As for full movie downloads and watching my 17" computer screen...I haven't adjusted that much!

Late night hours came and my head was spinning out ideas. Sweet dreams last night.

Woke this AM...feeling positive and truth told, a bit overwhelmed by all the possibilities this modern world presents. Like one giant playground for me.

So...cup of coffee in hand...I check out Twitter and there another show broadcasting scheduled for 9AM. I know this group and decide to set my internal clock to tag along on Blog Talk Radio. Time waiting...I wrote more, Rising Sparrow.

What message did these have in common?

The concept Daisy taught me...the message she lived while others had platforms...Lifting As We Climb. Same concept...different words.

So from time to time I am planning to include some of these connections in this ever shrinking boundary world the Internet provides here on Rising Sparrow Press // Storytellers And Writers Blog.

Since I seldom write a blog post without listening to music...here's the one I listened to today on Replay (after I watched the video of course).

The White House supports The Arts !!!!

Publishing / Behind the Scenes

2010-03-02T12:40:00.004-05:00

Ever wonder what World exists beyond the book?

What Author - Publisher Pathways involve?

The number of decisions involved? whether Self-Publishing or Publishing House?
Marketing? Ground Breaking Now Age Technology?

Listen in...

Listen to Dr. Kent & Sally on Blog Talk Radio

German Songwriter/Singer

2010-02-27T13:58:00.020-05:00

Es war eine wunderschöne Zeit (Langeoog 1977) Anke Zohm
(It Was A Lovely Time)

It Was A Lovely Time (Anke Zohm / Langeoog 1977)/ German - English Translation

The wind blows quietly by your hair
You see the sun, the sky and the sea
Feel the soft white sand at your feet
Feel free like the seagull over you (yourself)

It was a lovely time
I will often still long for it
But nothing in the life lasts for an eternity
Only the sea knows about my tears

We have experienced beautiful together
Soon, many an evening already turned into a new morning
The days passed by much too fast for us
And a couple of words remained unfortunately unsaid

It was a lovely time…

And now I look into your eyes
I want you to be happy today
For there is nothing more beautiful than our friendship
Which helps us in some solitude

It was a lovely time…

German-English Translation as shared by Anke. Rising Sparrow Press decided not to alter presentation/editing to maintain feeling/intent of Anke,songwriter.

Rising Sparrow (and Janie) vote for this as the lullaby of this and next generations...Beautiful.

When The Day Is Over

WHEN THE DAY IS OVER
AND THE LIGHT IS LOW
SHADOWS OF THE EVENING
RISE UP TO THE SKY
PLEASE SEND ME AN ANGEL
WHO'S WATCHING ROUND MY BED
AND GIVE ME YOUR BLESSING
WHICH CARRIES ME THROUGH THE NIGHT

Listening, I am reminded of all the angels that have blessed my life. My Sparrow, Daisy, God's Lake on that Day-too many Angels to name...my deer and our shared sanctuary.

(Blogger has been having random/occasional problems with downloading-playing some YouTube videos. If problems, stop...start on this post I refer you to the next viewing places.)

For a direct link to Anke Zohm's YouTube Channel featuring these and others songs by Singer/Songwriter: http://www.youtube.com/user/AnkeZohm

To read more about Anke Zohm, her website : http://www.ankezohm.de/ German with English Translation available on site.

For additional song listening (itunes) / Purchase
visit Anke's MySpace Page: http://www.myspace.com/ankezohm

Rising Sparrow Press Project / Facebook

2010-02-20T10:41:00.024-05:00

Publishing / the business side of Books.

Since Founding Rising Sparrow Press, December 2003 I have spent many hours learning and expanding my view of marketing or design or gathering resources or legwork-footsteps meeting people local and World-wide.

All of the computer technical information was a combination of self-taught then application (holding my breath hoping it worked) and targeted help by my computer mentor when I was lost forest-trees vision impaired. Net Results

Then - add the last 10 years of computer growth, expansion of what's possible. I started when F-functions had to be hand selected and computers took up entire desk surfaces. Yes, paper had been invented. I wrote 10 years not 1000, unless my computer keyboard is acting up. That you could always count on...computers acting up...like mine had a mind of it's own or it needed to prove superiority over me.

Computers led me to take astrology more serious. Trust me...if Mercury is Retrograde do not, I repeat DO NOT react when your computer acts funny. It is supposed to then...its written in the stars. And whatever you do, Don't go to buy a new one until Mercury gets out of its Retrograde mood.

I started with a website developed by an expert (my mentor and her connections) smart enough to know I was not gifted in computer language and format.

Born (2004): http://www.risingsparrowpress.com/

I learned Frontpage so that I could manage the site through the host.
I loved this for the frequency that I could add content, edit content, add resources, and to change my mind without involving head offices or The National Guard to control computer created chaos that I could create back during the learning stages. Either I have gotten better with computers or they have made it less possible to mess up. I hope both is true.

Next came blogs. I started with Blogger (easiest at the time and free).

Set-up specifically for Dear Daisy book and publishing: Storytellers and Writers, this blog.

To separate writing and storytelling from other interests I set-up:
http://lakeontarioshoreline.blogspot.com/ . That blog contains the most "how-to" information or examples of the photo restoration I've done/do.

I write specific to Rising Sparrow Press / Publishing through blog on Typepad (first free,then I started a small fee account, now I need to update that account-I left it parked there by ownership of the domain name). I will be returning to that blog for specific publishing information-resources during year, 2010.

http://recordfootsteps.typepad.com/record_footsteps_in_publi/

Social Networking entered the possibilities. I connected via (1)Forum of like-minded, goal directed, mission seeking individuals and participated in an every-growing list of teleconferences and organized efforts for social networking and marketing. I'll set it to be a goal to update a list of resources I have found most helpful and will offer it on original website http://www.risingsparrowpress.com/ . I am also developing e-books so this would be a great place to offer those and detailed information.

Also there on the original website http://www.risingsparrowpress.com/ listings of great Resources. People have told me they have gotten lost there. For no other reason than an example of writing/publishing, look at the Writer's Project during New Deal Period when then, too we were rebuilding America: http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html . To get there if entering from RSP website (not above direct link) click on Resources located on RSP Homepage.

RSP entered the World of Twitter (2009)...Yes, I Tweet.

Set-up YouTube for media-video development and for platform with the ultimate goal book trailers and...film-making/producing. In process, always. http://www.youtubecom/JaneMarlaVerDow

Continuing on this path, RSP developed Facebook Page most recent.
If interested, click on my Facebook link-badge on this or Lakeshore blog. Join if you wish...free.

So the question has circled back then evolved to become: How to Preserve the Message of Rising Sparrow Press; the message RSP was founded upon; the message statement written through words of book, Dear Daisy,2004?

Competing with all this...writing next books and daily bread making and life.

This was my next step...

Networking - Communications - Living the Golden Rule/Business

my New Page listed/linked on Facebook.

"Starting this Page as a place to social network encouraging others to join in. One rule: The Golden Rule. Place posts of you/your business/your gifts that serve others. Place posts that you have found to ease your path that could benefit others"

Those were the starting words I chose to represent the Golden Rule (my perspective). Written late night and tired, I vow to go back to expand ideas/thoughts/discussion if anyone is struggling with how they interpret the Golden Rule to participate. There is a discussion board set-up there, so feel free to supply your thoughts,ideas, suggestions.

Established this platform...

because I believe, as I wrote in Dear Daisy...

what was once a question I asked there, now through Rising Sparrow Press becomes a statement...

"...one candle and candles united in purpose create the World’s path of creation..." ~ Jane Marla VerDow (Dear Daisy)

I believe this. My intent and purpose; to prove by living it that my belief is true.

I invite others to join me.

Jane Marla VerDow

(Janie)

Another Link to my Past and Transitions

2010-02-19T12:41:00.005-05:00

Can you tell yet I am in transition?

One phase of my life transitioning to the next?

Must be a mid-life thing.

Rising Sparrow invites you to the LakeOntario Shoreline
http://lakeontarioshoreline.blogspot.com/2010/02/restoration-projects.html

No, we're not doing the Polar Bear plunge on this frigid-cold February morning.

Janie

Hint: My love of and respect for the voices that inspired my path.

2010-02-19T10:39:00.003-05:00

I joined a group:

I Cheated at Heads Up 7Up in Elementary School Anonymous

"Hello everyone. I'm Jane, and I'm a cheater at Heads Up 7Up. It all started in Elementary School. My excuses; desk was too hard (hurt my head and elbow), and I was delirious from breathing my own hot air. Thank-you for listening to my story."

For the full story...

http://lakeontarioshoreline.blogspot.com/2010/02/connecting-old-and-new.html

Jane Marla VerDow

Keep Your Eyes on the Prize

2010-02-14T15:05:00.011-05:00

Rising Sparrow Press and Author, Jane Marla VerDow remembers...Daisy

By her presence she taught in Dr. King's positive peace army for human dignity and rightful place as one of God's children...

In Honor and in Faith, Happy Valentine's Day, Daisy.

I thank God more eyes have seen the Glory...

that Black History Month now reflects more a shared Black history; a long Black day in USA history.

Still, better days to come as sameness becomes more the message and heart to embrace.

Back when, my heart once believed love would overpower hatred; prejudice would weaken once hearts and minds could focus on sameness in God's eyes, that we each have a place in God's heart and purpose.

Today, in honor of our shared history...I still believe.

For more videos on Civil Rights Movement, Songs of the Civil Rights Movement, Black History Month, History go to
http://www.youtube.com/user/JaneMarlaVerDow

Click on Playlists / History

Encore

Thank you to all who came before...and inspired...led...through song and heart, honored your God most through nonviolence.

Janie

Dear Daisy, the first born of Rising Sparrow Press

Rising Sparrow - The Dream

2010-02-14T12:21:00.007-05:00

On this Heart Day...Rising Sparrow shares The Dream.

How fitting during this Month of February we celebrate the pathways of peoples, all, but especially the history-victory over oppression.

How fitting on this day, February 14th. The anniversary of hearts-sharing.

How fitting on this day, Sunday...a spiritual dream is shared.

Now for possibly the shortest Sunday sermon on record.

It has been written..."I Am The Way" as the guiding Light of spiritual pathway.

What if part of the translation was missed...Old Language to New?
Speaking different languages, different-same times, different-same hearts and minds, certainly there is the possibility of error or ommission.

What if..."I Am Is The Way" was the spoken, intended message? Or the one we were intended to hear or to percieve to meet our contribution challenge? To honor God's gift of Life-Path, Jesus-Christ, our own.

A Spiritual Message / Translation on this heart day and Sunday from Rising Sparrow.

Jane Marla VerDow
Rising Sparrow

Dear Daisy - Rising Sparrow

2010-02-14T10:59:00.018-05:00

Is a book while it is being written, a book? Does the one that has been written have an ending? Where does the next chapter, or story, or book begin - where does the last end?

Dear Daisy I chose not to write in set chapters, or at least not to designate or separate thoughts in such an arbitrary or concrete structured way.

Near ending Dear Daisy I wrote: "Where this story began is where the story now ends. The place of heart and pondering what was and what will be."

Same words could open Rising Sparrow, the next.

"I remember music had nurtured my heart during the separation, in the aftermath, near the time of my walk to the Lake, and each snare on my path. My Soul needed music. Music was healing to my heart, gave me some sense of ground, a dream to dream not knowing what would be, a desire to continue and to meet the next day rather than just get there, and also a wish for the other." (Dear Daisy)

Same path, same truths today writing and editing Rising Sparrow with music playing, filling the gaps between words still just thoughts fighting, competing, then freeing to flow onto page as heart also connects. The space between notes-music and words-story, so much the same. Honoring the space is all it takes. Honoring the time gap, filling that space, holding that space, then letting go and trusting. (Rising Sparrow)

I remembered Daisy's first efforts to let me know that she was near, back where these words started. The flowerpot. Funny how even the distance Heaven to Earth is not too great a distance to offer support and love yet, on Earth support is claimed as rescuing and is unreal. Daisy taught me what real support feels like. I've learned after too many steps taken what I knew in the first place; that it aint got nothing to do with peoples telling you that they want to be supportive or that they are being supportive. "Whin dey bes, dey jus' be." My heart knows that much and always did. Now I remember. (Dear Daisy)

Now I remember.

I rediscovered the Truth that my heart has always known. Love has two sides; one when times and paths are shared, the other those times of letting go and we each showed our heart and love for eachother and moved on the best we knew...

Replaying the time and challenge with time always having final say I accepted time was in control but still wonder days heavy disheartened why life takes what life had once given and why limits of this life prevent people who love from sharing pathways. (Dear Daisy)

Nothing about love, the beauty-tragedy or plan of fate-destiny, has changed the script for my yearning heart. (Rising Sparrow)

In this healing place I "awoke" to a hand in my left hand and felt my heart-mind shift back to the awareness of time-heart realities. I felt the losses. I felt the time and distance between. I sensed time then, now, then endless where time holds no meaning. Sensing the depth of this touch in this moment was reaching I sensed a shift happening as my heart questioned, "what if". In this feeling of total Spiritual calm I returned to solid ground and thought, (I know this touch). I remembered feeling this touch and this energy three other times in my life, relationships with others I treasure. One was the touch of the one I'm no longer walking with. Once was the one from another place and time who I rarely speak of but the one my heart remembers when I sense peace and the life vibration energy World or when I speak deep from spiritual heart. The third, my hand was little and held Daisy's hand. I know this touch.

Was this a cruel reminder of these three losses now playing at a deeper level? Was this healing communicating energy felt through my left palm the message I had long waited for and traveled all those footsteps searching?...

I continued on my path, sensing with faith and time God would someday reveal. Only this I knew for sure, I was on my path. My heart was leading the way and each time before one hand had not replaced the other. I know each touch uniquely. Each has taught me a part of my Soulful heart; mostly the part of letting go and going on despite the hardships on that road and the promise of a new day long coming. Each hold their own path of heart and always will. (Dear Daisy)

My right hand? That one is in the Hands of God. (Dear Daisy - Rising Sparrow)

Even with broken heart and injured wing I knew not even a sparrow falls to Earth....Trusting I had heard the message of my heart's echo my attention shifted to the background music in the room. I recognized the song. My heart knew all the verses, especially the Negro Spiritual version. The words etched upon my heart.

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound,
that saved a wretch like me!
I once was lost but now I am found,
was blind but now I see

The Earth shall sooth, his arm like snow
The sun forbears to shine
But God who brought me here below
will be forever mine

Through many dangers, toils, and snares
I have already come
'Twas grace that brought me here thus far
And grace will lead me home

(Dear Daisy)

So Truth remains truth, my own at least this day, February 14th, Valentine's Day, 2010. My three loves, I'll always love you. The Rising Sparrow promise from my heart. Happy Valentine's Heart Day.

As for me...this day...to Transition into more writing here on this blog from Dear Daisy to Rising Sparrow. The next...

Love,
Janie

http://storytellersandwriters.blogspot.com/2010/02/rising-sparrow.html

http://storytellersandwriters.blogspot.com/2010/02/keep-your-eyes-on-prize.html

or back to Home on this blog: http://storytellersandwriters.blogspot.com

Happy Valentine

2010-02-14T01:23:00.006-05:00

Happy Valentine's Day and Birthday, Jordash. My "puppy" born March, the day after Easter Sunday, 2008. Both being born the Monday after Easter Sunday is what we first shared in common. I had been watching him growing since his birth through email shared pictures, more accurate, before he was born I was connecting to his place of birth and sensing him. His birth place; just West of Toledo Ohio (Riverbend Labradoodles). So when the day finally came that he was old enough...to leave his Mom and come to be my little one, I drove the 6hour one-way trip to pick him up Mother's Day, 2008. Now my 85 lb. chocolate teddy bear.

Breed: Labradoodle

Photos/Video: Jane Marla VerDow
Music: Plain White T's. Album: Big Bad World; song 1-2-3-4

For additional Valentine Videos: http://lakeontarioshoreline.blogspot.com/

Janie

Daydreaming

2010-02-08T13:14:00.005-05:00

My first attempt at film-video making.

Photos taken by me (late 70's, mostly 1980's); high school and college days. A favored hobby of mine back in the day, playing around with my Minolta 35mm.

Featured here, pictures were mostly taken at Letchworth State Park and Watkins Glen, New York but also include pictures from my graduate days spent in Indiana...then back home on the farm.

Preserved slides to slide show, then video format, 2010.

Now released on my YouTube site.

Enjoy.

Jane Marla VerDow (Janie)

Follow your bliss and be what you want to be.
Don't climb the ladder of success only to find
it's leaning against the wrong wall. ~ Bernie Siegal

Between Yesterday and Tomorrow

2010-02-06T09:42:00.006-05:00

This song says it all...
at any crossroad...
any questioning moment...

all uncertainty, yet a dream of a tomorrow

Just a Piece of Sky

2010-02-05T21:39:00.009-05:00

Inspiration on this day.

Remembering this film, this scene.

Taking the boat...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rt_jjHAQoJU

or

http://www.youtube.com/user/JaneMarlaVerDow#p/a/807070394DBEAF08/1/Rt_jjHAQoJU

Enjoy the film.

Sunday Afternoon Break

2010-01-31T13:19:00.003-05:00

Some days life gets too serious.

So...to see the other side of my life

Visit Lake Ontario Shoreline Blog.

http://lakeontarioshoreline.blogspot.com/2010/01/sunday-afternoons-winter-time.html

Janie

Wisdom of words Eleanor Roosevelt

2010-01-28T14:27:00.002-05:00

"Many people will walk in and out of your life,
But only true friends will leave footprints in your heart.

To handle yourself, use your head;
To handle others, use your heart.

Anger is only one letter short of danger.

If someone betrays you once, it is his fault; If someone betrays you twice, it is your fault.

Great minds discuss ideas;
Average minds discuss events;
Small minds discuss people.

He who loses money, loses much;
He who loses a friend, loses much more;
He who loses faith, loses all.

Beautiful young people are accidents of nature,
But beautiful old people are works of art.

Learn from the mistakes of others;
You can`t live long enough to make them all yourself.

Yesterday is history.
Tomorrow`s a mystery.
Today is a gift."

--------- Eleanor Roosevelt

Footsteps Beyond

2010-01-28T14:14:00.023-05:00

Yesterday is history.
Tomorrow`s a mystery.
Today is a gift."

--------- Eleanor Roosevelt

Childhood is nothing more than, absolutely nothing less than, the courage to discover for the first time with innocence and openness, the faith and passion to explore the next, and the inner wisdom to sense the value of each moment along the path. ~ Janie

No song did I sing in the orchards more than this Great by Peter, Paul and Mary.

Another Sparrow, another time, another sparrow song, same orchard

"Songs of the orchard played in my mind as words appeared on paper...My heart remembered the fallen sparrow. At the depth of my heart I knew the Truth of my singing the folk songs in the orchards with the wind; words I sang to the sparrow. Songs of days long ago lived then gone, never outgrown, continued to play in my head and I hummed along as words appeared on paper...Truly there is "a new World somewhere, they call the Promise Land"..

and in all my days searching...

I thought of Daisy's love and Truth whispers from Heaven, God's Lakewater, and I heard once more the sparrow's song...

"I'll be there someday if you will hold my hand."

My heart and love written to Dear Daisy, I sang,

"It's the hammer of Justice, it's the bell of Freedom, it's the song about Love between my brothers and my sisters, a-all, over this land."

When my heart was content that the last word had found its place on the pages, I sat back and asked the question, "What if?"...

In the peace of this moment...our shared Soul path now written...just as my heart released the long sigh of content and "what if?" echoed...I heard outside, down the road, within walking distance, the train whistle blow...

My Spirit took the step...

Dear Daisy

Dedication
This work is dedicated with all my love to Daisy.

Her warmth taught me love, her gift of patience taught me to search my heart for patience with others, her Soul taught me strength equal to compassion, and through her love and guidance I learned to reach for my World.

Every blade of grass has its Angel that bends over and whispers, "Grow, grow."

-The Talmud

My heart knows by root a Farmer's Faith

and I remember the Lake

http://lakeontarioshoreline.blogspot.com/2007/06/farmers-faith.html

And on this day, just past sunrise in the year, 2010, yet again I heard the train whistle blow...

And My Spirit took another step...

Peace,

Jane Marla VerDow

Mr. President, I ask you

2010-01-28T11:31:00.007-05:00

I watched President Obama via Internet last night, via invitation thru Twitter.

Livestream of the State of the Union has begun! Come watch the President's address on http://youtube.com/citizentube #SOTU

http://www.citizentube.com/

I further took the invitation to ask questions of President Obama.

My questions:

Healthcare Reform

"Mr. President, can we find tax cuts to assist adult working children to provide short term care for their elderly parents? rather than only option being nursing home or transition/restorative care, more support for family taking care of family?"

"When are we going to provide quality affordable assistive living for all elderly? Now the wealthy get assisted living. The poor get stuck in nursing homes. The wealthy get transition out. The homeless get stuck in nursing homes regardless of age."

"25 yrs in healthcare, 10 yrs LTC/restorative PT. Mr. President, when are we going to separate homeless fr healthcare issue? Too many blocks transitioning people. My case load alone: 1/4-1/3. Quality homeless housing ? cheaper than hospital bed?"

"25 yrs in healthcare, 10 yrs LTC/restorative PT. Mr. President, when are we going to separate homeless issue fr healthcare issue? Too many blocks transitioning people. My case load alone: 1/4-1/3. Quality homeless housing ? cheaper than LTC bed?"

Jobs and the Economy

"lost my work 1yr (Nov). Self-employed. Sole prop. Hanging on-yr.end spending conservative/survival, I paid highest taxes same year. How about a two yr window/taxation for self-sufficiency during personal crisis periods? 1yr recovery,not 5 year debt."

To see how the viewers, those posing their questions on same site, and "America" viewed and scored/supported/or not my questions:

http://www.google.com/moderator/#15/e=409f&t=409f.44&f=409f.1a9c0&q=409f.1a9c0

I also took the time to read other's comments and to vote thumb up or down responding to their questions and concerns.

Some day not far off I'll have more to write and say on what "America" responded, information leading to the questions I wrote, what President Obama spoke last night, or who knows...maybe he'll pick one of my questions. I'll share.

What do you wish to ask President Obama?

What do you read in public opinion, his message, my questions? and the response?

I just find this technology during this administration very interesting.
Is this really the time where Government of the People, By the People will find Voice? Or is this,too an illusion?

Changes

2010-01-24T20:28:00.014-05:00

Find myself in this place along my path where I am instigating changes...how I work, where I've been and where I'm going next...the next rung on the ladder towards retirement...or actualization.

Pathways of Changes I've travelled

Infinity Walk’s uninterrupted figure-eight pathway supports the rehabilitation process, from detailed finite skill development to gross motor endurance. The reciprocal walk pattern assists in functional practice of bilateral sensing; perceiving; rhythm, timing and pacing; attention; and the building of multi-tasking skill. Orthopedic limitations, movement discrepancies, performance blocks, and sensory-motor compensatory patterns can be isolated for intervention and retraining, refocusing treatment objectives, and functional progression. Infinity Walk also supports professional assessment of unilateral-bilateral gait; joint dysfunction and sensory-motor deficits.

Jane Ver Dow, M.S., P.T
Rochester, New York

Jane Ver Dow, P.T., is a senior physical therapist with 20 years of clinical experience in rehabilitation. She was the clinical supervisor for the first Infinity WalkAbout® prototype clinical trials in a nursing home photo.

http://www.infinitywalk.org/About-IW/history.htm

http://www.infinitywalk.org/HealthCare/applications.htm

Part of the Pathway is written in Dear Daisy

Birth Announcement of Dear Daisy (2004)

The next is being written...

Encore and oh so fitting for where I am today...

Time of Your Life (Green Day)

Orchard Songs

2009-11-22T12:22:00.000-05:00

Recently I spent a few days stepping back into my orchards, especially the one I've come to know as my deer sanctuary. Named for the apples that remain there on the ground after frost and harvest time and for the deer who find them, but mostly for how content my heart feels in that shared space.

So for that and no other reason, I decided to share an older post on this blog. A time remembered in my thoughts or a reminder to you, the reader, to from time to time, take a step back. Read an older post on this trail...for maybe that time, like this time is heart shared and only separated by this abstract concept called, time.

The beginning….
Songs of the orchard played in my mind as words appeared on paper.
I thought of Daisy and her home with Jim…

Nearing the ending…
At the depth of my heart I knew the Truth of my singing the folk songs in the orchards with the wind…

As I wrote…
Songs of days long ago lived then gone, never outgrown, continued to play in my head and I hummed along as words appeared on paper…

Songs of the orchard…closest I’ve ever found to poetry; truly, the inspiration for such…
words playing on canvas.

Winds blow then fade. One moment of time changes the world, or at least our perception.

There standing, sitting, being, holding her space-filling her space; Daisy.
Learned lesson, the one that came to me just watching Daisy, no words; she needed none:
Just hold your space-fill your space. Her message, so clear to me now.

So truth told, I learned about blank space in writing from her, and from holding my space while the winds did their own game. Filled in the space between with orchard songs. Daisy by nature didn’t use many words. The gaps between allowed me to just be, there with her.

So I learned most about words by time spent in listening and waiting. Let them be. Give them space and respect. Honor the life rhythm of each and every. Together, they find their own place and share.

Blank space in writing is where you, the reader comes…to sit and be.

Blank space, that’s where all the “what ifs” live.

From somewhere deep within, there was a voice calling me home. I had to listen. When a child of any age hears that voice, there’s no denying it, least not to yourself, especially when the call becomes a whisper.
Jane Marla Ver Dow
Dear Daisy, 2004

Let your heart guide you. It whispers, so listen closely.
~ The Land Before Time

I remember and heal 10-28

2009-11-01T21:42:00.001-05:00

As individuals and as churches, we have need to determine if our mission is to light candles and to keep candles lit, or to blow candles out. I still believe that one candle and that candles united in purpose create the World’s path of creation and life, or can be used to ignite the fire of destruction. If we seek Peace, whether the War is between Nations or the War is between peoples, our own stone and our own flame is really all that any of us have control over.

- Jane Marla VerDow

Dear Daisy, 2004

As the story begins, the author caught in a personal struggle of survival under conditions felt oppressive, writes to Daisy. As the reflective search for self and path unfolds, the 9-11-01 story strikes as a Holy War between extremists of Nations. Before the dust settles, 10-28-01 brings world chaos personal. Living the aftermath, the author struggles to forgive and declares through writing an Epistle as part of her emancipation pathway that violence as a rightful expression and worship of God is not the God of her faith.

http://www.risingsparrowpress.com/announce.htm

Dear Daisy Website

2009-10-21T22:22:00.022-04:00

Rising Sparrow Press and Author Jane Marla VerDow

Announce

Author VerDow Dear Daisy Website

Features on New Website
Author Comments
Book Order Information
Dear Daisy Book Excerpts
Book Publishing Special Announcements
Read Old and New Dear Daisy Posts
that have appeared on this blog story tellers and writers
This blog Search: Dear Daisy

Purchase Signed by Author First Editions

information also available
Rising Sparrow Press Website www.risingsparrowpress.com

Book Information and Order

Author on Twitter :
By TwitterButtons.com

Whats Your Smooshed PBJ Sandwich

2009-10-19T11:36:00.014-04:00

"Definition of" : Smooshed Peanut Butter-Jelly Sandwich (PBJ)

Anything that triggers one to think of people, places, environments when/where they were most content and filled with abundance, heart and soul.

Now, there are peanut butter sandwiches that are well, just OK.

Then PBJ sandwiches that rank based upon specific jellies. Variety is good but my mind memory is Grape.

But there is a truth lost down the ages that I'll share now with you: the distinguishing feature that makes a PBJ a true Smooshed PBJ in my opinion is the temperature of the sandwich.

For best results place sandwich in shade of tree (around 6:30 AM). Now remember you do want some heat getting to that sandwich so yes, place sandwich on west side of tree (if the sun rises from the east where you live) but make sure that the limbs and branches over-hanging are not so thick that sandwich can't find light of day.

Remember, you are not the only creature wanting that sandwich, so be sure to place in top rolled down brown paper bag (modern could be zip lock if you're into plastic) to deter ants or bigger.

If all works to plan, that sandwich you placed 6:30 will be perfect temperature and smooshedness by 9:30 AM. Worst case 10 AM. No accidental or intentional stomping on required.

If you aren't up by 6:30 to place your own sandwich...you're outta luck.

Science behind process: Bread becomes a sponge when PB and J become PBJ.
(I knew this by the time I was 2 but I think it was later also covered in one of my logic or algebra classes.)

So, my early morning hearing a bird tweet led to thought and blog post (here) Monday, October 19, 2009 9:43 AM. Title: Morning Tweeters and Orchard Talks. Search Key words: orchard //orchard talks

That then led to this blog post, What's Your Smooshed PBJ Sandwich

That leads me to circle back to the question (now nearing lunchtime): What's Your Smooshed PBJ Sandwich?

Shared with you here because I feel sorry for the "outta luck" statement above, I'll share a link. And more to the true reason, I believe in and try to live by, Lifting As We Climb.

On my walk out to the orchards (now apple...seasons change, Smooshed PBJ Sandwiches don't), I found another author. So additional link, similar logic, shared interest in serendipity included here: http://serendipitouslyrich.com/book/

Content in this blog also referenced Lifting As We Climb. See older post of Author, Jane Marla VerDow,this blog. Lifting As We Climb Post date: Monday, March 26, 2007
Blog Search Keywords: lifting // climb // lifting as we climb //Daisy // Dear Daisy

Note: If you use key word, Lift the published post on Pooh Bear appears. That's one of my favorite (me) posts on this blog.

Author: Jane Marla VerDow, Dear Daisy copyright ©2004; Independent Publishing: Rising Sparrow Press, est. 2003. Visit Author Website http://www.risingsparrowpress.com/ to learn more about author’s upcoming titles or for writing and self-publishing resources. Also find Hard to Find Resources on history, travel, rare/old book finds, and arts/literature. Enjoy following Blogs: http://www.storytellersandwriters.blogspot.com/ and http://lakeontarioshoreline.blogspot.com/

Morning Tweeters and Orchard Talks

2009-10-19T09:43:00.013-04:00

Sun was up this morning when I woke. Never rise willingly without the sun sparking my awakening. Unwillingly is taken care of by Jordash since he first came to live with me as a puppy. No need for an alarm clock.

This Sun pattern is not new to me. I've always used the Sun this way...or it plays me this way. I haven't yet figured which is truth.

I wake fast, but also its true I'm a slow riser. Seems more true a statement with adding on years. Brain slower, body slower, no matter...same truth. Real truth...I think somedays I wake more aware of what can impact a day, the negatives life can deliver, and at least some days, the energy it takes to laugh at or walk past or work through seems a bit much for the asking. Some days, ...many, not true. That blessing I guard with my dreams and faith and gratitude.

Self-aware of all the above, and also true, I heard a bird chirp this morning first thing...a tweet from Twitter. Wise Insight followed before my mind had time to start another thought. Must be the news had reached many birds, for many by now were up and tweeting. Hard to keep walk-sleeping when birds have another plan for the day. This morning in particular being a Monday morning, I thought I'd ease into my planned for the week. Not the same plan of birds. Not this morning when I heard the song of the sparrow and song of the eagle within also sung by tweeters. So this morning I engaged, just for the good enough reason, because. I thank you, tweeters.

All above same truth when I was little, I reminded me. Next, days back when floated in competing with my next thought, NOW, must get something done list (ego-mind). Like I said, I'm a slow riser so I followed the path leading to...picking cherries and trying to get out to the orchards to make my daily bread. Translated into kid language, earn my bike or transistor AM/FM radio. Even then, money was just a part of the plan motivator for me. What I mean to say, the motivator that kicked in when my energy was fully engaged, usually along towards 10 AM. Early bird in that regard, I'm not. I knew mid morning smooshed peanut butter and jelly sandwiches didn't happen until at earliest 9:30 AM. No rush really needed before that.

Daisy, back then was my time to get moving to get to work motivator. I knew Jim and Daisy would be out there sunrise, at least by 6:30. Catching those first sparrow and eagle songs for sure. Knowing this much, that spark would get my heart up full speed and would carry my legs faster. The real mission for me, to get to the orchards for our first morning "hellos" and sit down orchard talks. The money just sort of came along. End of season, I always found myself in a store buying what I had dreamed of having.

So where did all this early rising, bird singing, thought engaging lead? Stay tuned for next posts on this blog and www.lakeontarioshoreline.blogspot.com My mind is sorting at the moment at least five more to come. That is if they don't all smoosh together like that peanut butter and jelly sandwich I'm re-dreaming about.

To "hear" Replays of bird songs that captured my attention this early morning:
http://www.theblessingsbook.com/ blessings is the message but so much more into links

and another tweeting about publishing/early promotion pathways and suggestions
http://presalemastery.com/

for link to http://www.twitter.com/

Author: Jane Marla VerDow, Dear Daisy copyright ©2004; Independent Publishing: Rising Sparrow Press, est. 2003.
Visit Author Website http://www.risingsparrowpress.com/ to learn more about author’s upcoming titles or for writing and self-publishing resources. Also find Hard to Find Resources on history, travel, rare/old book finds, and arts/literature.

Character Jordash

2009-10-17T21:04:00.016-04:00

Jordash "baby" has grown. Now "full grown" a pouncing, playful 82 lbs.!!!

Loves watching "his TV" Saturday mornings entertaining himself with Cartoons!!!

Or just hanging out while I write.

Try new Search This Blog (top roght side of blog under header) using word Levi or Bear

To view Puppy and Puppy Growing pictures of Jordash Search This Blog using Jordash or Puppy keyword

Words to Keep a Soul Alive

2009-10-16T16:06:00.001-04:00

To know what you prefer instead of humbly saying Amen to what the world tells you you ought to prefer, is to have kept your soul alive. ~Robert Louis Stevenson

The Heart Remembers

2008-09-11T08:59:00.007-04:00

Today, this 911 we come together to remember our World's Family members...may we always reflect on our challenge as the survivors...

As individuals and as churches, we have need to determine if our mission is to light candles and to keep candles lit, or to blow candles out. I still believe that one candle and that candles united in purpose create the World’s path of creation and life, or can be used to ignite the fire of destruction. If we seek Peace, whether the War is between Nations or the War is between peoples, our own stone and our own flame is really all that any of us have control over.

- Jane Marla VerDow

Dear Daisy, 2004

As the story begins, the author caught in a personal struggle of survival under conditions felt oppressive, writes to Daisy. As the reflective search for self and path unfolds, the 9-11-01 story strikes as a Holy War between extremists of Nations. Before the dust settles, 10-28-01 brings world chaos personal. Living the aftermath, the author struggles to forgive and declares through writing an Epistle as part of her emancipation pathway that violence as a rightful expression and worship of God is not the God of her faith.

http://www.risingsparrowpress.com/announce.htm

Another Character

2008-08-18T18:20:00.019-04:00

The next character: Jordash

Day #1. Our trip home First few days playing fetch. And lounging around the yard.And as first days turned to first weeks, exploring what was there. Maybe taking a moment...or not, so Mom could catch a picture.

Pool time to cool off. Puppy Pad And before "nite-nite" taking a few moments for snuggle time.
House training age 9-10 weeks

"Yes, Mom I'm being an angel."

"No Mom, I'm not diggin' up Grandma's flower garden." (age 15 weeks)

Lounging around the house. Age 20 weeks. 43 lbs.

Jordash's playroom. A moment to reflect in his chair after checking out the traffic, what the neighbors and the squirrels are up to outside.

How I arrange his crate in the morning. "Time I gotta go to work"

Rearranged by Jordash and how I find his crate when I return from work. Friends tucked in for "nite-nite".

Playtime after work. Time now for yard fun. Week 21.

Enjoying his freedom now totally trained to his Invisible Fence.

"What the...did I see that right?"
"Look Mom, I found a brick!!!"

To View other Characters click on Labels below for this blog:

bedtime stories for children or writing for children or Characters.

For additional Author's Photography, words and picture images.http://lakeontarioshoreline.blogspot.com/

Old Photos: Method versus Presentation

2008-08-18T00:00:00.013-04:00

This Photo was photocopied (multiple attempts) to gain this degree of clarity for a scrapbook. Paper selection for photocopying was crucial.

Below the same photo is digitally presented. Notice the exposure variation to bring out facial features as well as the muscle definition of the horse. This photo during the process of enhancing was literally "destroyed then brought back out" to gain this effect.

For a wall framed or mantle framed picture, the dark frame without matting I chose for my home display is "gorgeous". I love this one.

Here in this presentation form (on screen) does not compare to the mantle framed presentation (lighting contrast photo to frame). My mantle photo? The definition of the horse muscle tone is beyond my wildest vision of what could be possible!!! and the viewer can't help but sense the mystic nature created by the snow and lighting.

Old Color Photos

2008-08-06T15:06:00.010-04:00

These two photos started the same color influenced by the time of day of photo and era of processing.

The coloration of these original photos make it more complicated and require multiple adjusts of exposure, saturation, and temperature.

Factors of concern during the transition process: exposure and time of day/sun direction (see shadow that may/may not be left in photo); time of year and skin tone; clothing color; and sharpness of facial features as well as degree of sharpness of environment distance/depth. The time of year the photo was taken being winter, I chose to alter the sky tone and brought greater contrast bare ground to snow.

Since it is a family joke regarding how many pictures have been taken over the years, generation after generation, with the shadow image of the photographer also in the photo, I may leave the photographer's shadow as part of the photo. For family historical purposes (part of the story behind the picture theory), often the image of the photogragher can be identified.

Finding the balance between these factors impacts and reflects the quality of the restoration and much is personal preference.

To complete the restoration, note the film/paper aging showing up as spots on clothing. There are spots of color fading on the ground also but due to the coloration, exposure and saturation adjusts I made previously on this photo those seem to blend natural into the environment of ground and sky. But the clothing color fade/loss spots distract too much from the photo and decrease the appeal or value of the photo so those I would take the time to remove/color blend using a program such as Adobe Photoshop.

For additional Author's Photography, words and picture images.http://lakeontarioshoreline.blogspot.com/

Visit Author Website http://www.risingsparrowpress.com/ for writing and self-publishing resources. Also find Hard to Find Resources on history, travel, rare/old book finds, and arts/literature.
Rising Sparrow Press assists you to write, collect and restore the yesterdays and today.

Create the legacy others will treasure tomorrow...

Photos Then and Now In Process

2008-08-05T12:24:00.024-04:00

This photo can be restored to this level with HP Photosmart

Notice the fingerprint smudge near subject right thigh.

With coloration and saturation adjusts the fingerprint smudge can remain in the picture but appears to fit more with the background, less intrusive.

Notice in both of these restorations the natural field setting has disappeared or becomes less pronounced or distinquishable. What was a picture taken in a natural field may in later generations be interpretted to have been a studio backprint photo. This young man was an immigrant landing on US soil and later years a farmer with few if any pictures available of him in his natural environment. How fitting that this picture setting is a natural field and how much of his life story can be felt through one picture? This is where writing the story of the picture, labelling place or setting aligned with the photo or on a separate paper secured in the back of the frame maintains the integrity of the original photo.

The above photo snapshot is also in process of restoration. This change was performed with HP Photosmart. The original photo coloration patterns and lighting (and by nature of the subject and environment) appear to be sun sensitive as to time of day the photo may have been taken. So, this feature I chose to expose and build upon for the final photo presentation.

To clear the remaining blemishes and or film-print aging on either photo a program such as Adobe Photoshop could be used.

For additional Author's Photography, words and picture images.http://lakeontarioshoreline.blogspot.com/

Author: Jane Marla VerDow, Dear Daisy copyright ©2004; Independent Publishing: Rising Sparrow Press, est. 2003.Visit Author Website http://www.risingsparrowpress.com/ to learn more about author’s upcoming titles or for writing and self-publishing resources. Also find Hard to Find Resources on history, travel, rare/old book finds, and arts/literature.

Rising Sparrow Press assists you to write, collect and restore the yesterdays and today.Create the legacy others will treasure tomorrow...

Playtime for a Publisher

2008-08-04T15:22:00.011-04:00

Been spending a few days, no better say months, searching what it means to be a publisher. The author part is pretty simple...find the words and find the time to put them to paper. That is simple if the words come or you don't end up spending more time and effort editing out than putting down or just not into writing at the moment.

So time in limbo, that's where all this pondering the publisher side comes in.

Where I could ponder for hours, no better make that days at a time is on an image...somehow my memory pulls closer or a story comes alive when I am playing with lighting or editing out an old watermark on an old photo. For all the modern ways to capture moments on micro there's something almost mystical about taking a photo from a time period of film...like the people come alive for me, I start to sense the day there with them, and then I'm lost in the process. Time becomes irrelevant then...time then to now or even in this now.

I love to see what can be removed from...

Enhanced becomes...

And I love when they transform into something like this...

For additional Author's Photography, words and picture images.
http://lakeontarioshoreline.blogspot.com/

For resources and book.
http://www.risingsparrowpress.com/announce.htm

The Wise Kid

2008-03-11T13:57:00.008-04:00

Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing which ones to keep.
Scott Adams, Cartoonist Dilbert

Perfectionism. That's what gets in the way of writing and creating. Gets in the way of anything productive, for that matter.

Children's writings often get closest to truth. At least truth that I can understand.

“Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.” Margery Williams, from The Velveteen Rabbit

Today I was feeling most unpurposeful...there is such a word, at least in my mind...today.

Challenging myself to work, when play seemed more on target. Challenging my plan because the details were less than in some finished state. Why bother with some next blog post or some next step when for the life of me I could not picture where it was all leading or what "it" would be, and especially no answer to "why"?.

So this morning I was reading a post from a Forum friend. Same, or at least a close similar thought there. Words saying something about taking advantage of the moment and meaning not getting too caught up in the end product. A recent past she described, taking advantage of an opportunity that was on offer rather than try later, alone, perhaps days or months later. Her's today, What a website would be in final form? Mine today, What is this blog's purpose and how does this one fit with the (2) others I write?

My wise kid smiled connecting, reading her post. Ah, my wise kid, the one I can always count on to be there, or I should write, to be here with me.

My wise kid's advice? My wise kid's thought on the subject...the comeback...

The only one who really needs to be concerned with the final version presentation is the Undertaker.

Since I'm not interested in that job...guess I'll settle for being less than perfect along this writing-publishing pathway. So this is today's post. It fits today...for me...

Where it fits the finished product and Plan? I have no idea. And...I smile.

Jane Marla VerDow

Author: Jane Marla VerDow, Dear Daisy copyright ©2004; Independent Publishing: Rising Sparrow Press, est. 2003.
Visit Author Website http://www.risingsparrowpress.com/ to learn more about author’s upcoming titles or for writing and self-publishing resources. Also find Hard to Find Resources on history, travel, rare/old book finds, and arts/literature.

Rising Sparrow Press assists you to write, collect and restore the yesterdays and today.
Create the legacy others will treasure tomorrow...

For Publishing information visit: http://www.recordfootsteps.typepad.com/

Book of Lives and Legacies

2008-01-21T11:48:00.000-05:00

Author Jane Marla VerDow honors Candaisy "Daisy" Mitchell in the National Women's Hall of Fame, Book of Lives and Legacies.

On this day, January 21, 2008, the day we set aside to honor Martin Luther King, Jr. and to remember his "I Have A Dream" speech, the Civil Rights Acts, the marches and protests for civil liberties and freedoms, I would like to honor the woman who first taught me about "Dr King".

Our shared story is told in Dear Daisy, my first novel inspired by and dedicated to my "adopted Grandmother". The Lake Ontario Shoreline of Upstate New York is the place I call home and where my heart will always center to the farm, this place God gave me to connect each harvest season with Daisy. I will forever be grateful for this relationship and for the wisdom Daisy shared with a "boss man's" child under cherry and apple trees. It will always be etched upon my heart that Daisy, my Angel friend on Earth 1959 through the 60's, years later mystically reappeared my Angel from Heaven to guide this grown child on her pathway back Home.

A quote from Dear Daisy expresses best why Daisy is honored in the NWHF Book of Lives and Legacies...
"I hoped the World would sense the role Black Grandmothers play today, and especially the role Colored Grandmothers played in the transition from "slave" or "free slave" to soil and fruits; each day establishing roots and opportunity branches children and children's children know today. This would be my dream. My heart pictured Daisy's rightful time to speak, an "illiterate" adopted Colored Grandmother, a poor migrant traveler rich in Soul and Spirit bridging generations and color divide, a leader in Dr. King's positive peace army."

She will forever be known to myself, friends and family by her less formal name, "Daisy". She didn't need a civil rights movement. Her presence, love and compassion told all there was to learn. Daisy used the canvas life gave her and planted seeds in fertile ground; hearts.

Daisy, my friend, Love Always,

"Miz Jane"
(Jane Marla VerDow)

Spiritual Inspiration

2007-07-31T20:22:00.000-04:00

Daisy, my Spiritual Mentor

My faith was born under the cherry or apple tree. As a child, Daisy was my teacher. She could teach about God by a smile, the way she held out her hand, how she listened to my stories, by her patience, and by the strength of her character and Spirit.
As a child, I understood nature, sensed how life should be, accepted what it wasn't on most days, placed hope in tomorrow by living today, and trusted my instinct to know right from wrong and direction.
She taught by her compassion and gentleness to judge fairly or not at all, by her tolerance I learned to look for the good in people, and that the best way to teach was by being or reaching for the best within myself. Daisy as my friend, I sensed early on that we are all God's children; that more makes us the same than different and the contents of a person's heart measures Soul and worth.

Excerpt from Dear Daisy

(2/14/2001)

...I do realize that others hold preconceived visions of Justice that may not be my own and realize that some may be disappointed by the terms of this settlement. I chose this path as it reflects another source of my belief structure that guides my life and is based upon influences I hold dear to my heart. How fitting that this personal level of resolution would occur during this month of February as we celebrate our bonds through contributions of Black culture that I lived so closely with and my heart was nurtured by during my early years.

The motto of the National Association of Colored Woman, “Lifting As We Climb” expresses most closely my own beliefs and guides in word what my heart attempts in action for daily living. Perhaps my sharing this additional detail with you will help to further clarify the Justice path I chose.

From Twentieth Century Negro Literature, 1902
“And so lifting as we climb, onward and upward we go, struggling and striving and hoping that the buds and blossoms of our desires will burst into glorious fruition ere long. With courage born of success in the past, with a keen sense of responsibility, which we must continue to assume, we look forward to the future, large with promise and hope. Seeking no favors because of our color or patronage because of our needs, we knock at the bar of justice and ask for an equal chance.”

God be with us on our pathways of Peace and Justice,
Jane

Dedication
This work is dedicated with all my love to Daisy.
Her warmth taught me love, her gift of patience taught me to search my heart for patience with others, her Soul taught me strength equal to compassion, and through her love and guidance I learned to reach for my World.

Every blade of grass has its Angel that bends over and whispers, "Grow, grow." -The Talmud

Dear Daisy,
with all my love,

'Mis Jane

http://www.risingsparrowpress.com/announce.htm

Lake Ontario Shoreline

2007-07-27T19:44:00.000-04:00

Lakeview looking North from the Southern Shoreline

For additional Author's Photography, words and picture images.

http://lakeontarioshoreline.blogspot.com/

http://www.risingsparrowpress.com/announce.htm

What Inspires the Writer?

2007-07-20T22:01:00.000-04:00

I could also ask, "What inspires the writing? for many times it is hard to separate the writer from the writing.

Many days...times when the writing takes a break or I, the writer do...I look up and there is my proof...at least for me...at least some clue...and I smile for what my heart sees to connect with if only to capture the next word or phrase...

Upstate...Lake Ontario Shoreline view...while sitting on her bank hard not to dream about what sits on the other side; or to notice that cloud mass coming in, or the fog; or the stillness of the Lake as the sun chooses to move on down the horizon; watching for the patterns by day and trying to guess the probability or intensity of the storm by sound or instinct alone by night. Ah, but the Captains and Mariners of old could tell better than I. Then again, I've heard stories told down more than not, saying "The Lake, that one Ontario, storms she can brew more dangerous than the Ocean for the waves she could produce, especially deep middle as she crosses..."

And here I am going on and on telling yet another story...you see it's, well,...hard not to with so much in front of my sight and memory eyes, for each image I have imbedded in heart and most days of my life I have seen them replay.

Hard not to learn the stories, carried down like some daily bread and having the landscape and history remains all around to confirm the telling mostly true. Like the stories of the Ore Beds and the Erie Canal...next town over, due West or South. None have I written, songs that is...but many have been written and sung while traveling along the Erie Canal on boat or cargo barge. http://www.eriecanalcruises.com/index.html

Time has changed...and I suspect maybe the mule, still the landscape much the same, at least that space between the Villages and Towns along her path...but the heart and the words that come to a heart tredgin' on down the Erie Canal on a summer's day...no, not that much has changed at all.

Jane Marla VerDow

Pooh Bear

2007-07-19T10:02:00.009-04:00

The next chapter...

Times falling between the living it and the "day job", next chapters and next books competed for my time and begged me to follow.

My Earth walking companion, a true loyal friend, my editor for those spur of the moment read it outloud checks whether happening day or late-early hours of dark; "So Levi,...how's this sound?"...

While I was writing Dear Daisy he had grown to be 14 years old. I could count on him mostly to vote positive, though there were times he yawned or the worst, if I was well into the story and he didn't bother to lift his head off his pillow or doggie bed. Just a look, one eye open...that answered all I had asked. My four paw companion would move on after Dear Daisy was written and bound...a loss I could have lived many more years without feeling....and as I lived it...I couldn't help but notice that his passing...well, let's just say, for all the losses...I have never felt anything to feel more like the end of a chapter.

Levi
"Levi Strauss"; "lit'l Lee"; "Eeyore"

So I swore "never again"...and life answered by pulling me forward...distractions and reminders of reasons why you are here have a funny way of doing that...

Then there came the next dog character...

Bear
and the next story...

so I chose to live it...to follow...just to see where this one would take me.

I stumbled upon this yesterday during my daily research the internet time for publishing; seeing what is rare and old and catching up to the just written new in the literary world. Yes...I am a blog reader, and an internet scanner, but not to confuse you...and mostly to assure myself that I haven't become a modern techie of this century...I settle upon just a few...

Here's one you don't stumble upon everyday...and let me assure you, as a writer, after reading this
I am taking special interest in my box of Crayolas...

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/6635575.stm

Janie

"THE OLD GREY DONKEY, Eeyore, stood by himself in a thistly corner of the forest, his front feet well apart, his head on one side, and thought about things. Sometimes he thought sadly to himself, "Why?" and sometimes he thought, "Wherefore?" and sometimes he thought, "Inasmuch as which?" -and sometimes he didn't quite know what he was thinking about. So when Winnie-the-Pooh came stumbling along, Eeyore was very glad to be able to stop thinking for a little, in order to say "How do you do?"..."

From Chapter Four, In Which, Eeyore Loses a Tail and Pooh Finds One, The Complete Tales of Winnie-the-Pooh, A.A. Milne with Decorations by Ernest H. Shepard/Winnie-the-Pooh, copyright 1926 by E. P. Dutton & Co., Inc./Presentation copyright 1994 by Dutton Children's Books.

The Question and The Answer

2007-07-17T13:02:00.000-04:00

If you read through previous posts I’m sure you will see that time traveled from then to now. A gap measured in time more than heart space; filled with footsteps, discovery, explorations, distractions, and survival.

How much space do you need? (and) Fill your space. became the question and the answer that led my way day-to-day and guided me to this next place and time. This now I write of…this today.

As on the walk…integrating what I sensed my instinct with what I already knew and was to still learn on steps ahead until there were none left to take, not much different today than that day and I suspect not much different some near or distant tomorrow.

If challenged, I would have to answer that I’ve been more living the footsteps than actually on paper recording them. Heart moments sometimes are too challenging in the now, more space and time required to avoid flooding pages. Those were the footsteps, if given choice, I would have wished to postpone, better yet never have to take, but life is not designed that way, especially when a heart chooses to love. Letting go of the chapter to write the next can be the greatest challenge of a writer.

To write the next book?

Ah, that’s where the living the story comes in.

The Heart Knows

2007-07-14T23:19:00.000-04:00

From somewhere deep within, there was a voice calling me home. I had to listen. When a child of any age hears that voice, there’s no denying it, least not to yourself, especially when the call becomes a whisper.

Jane Marla Ver Dow
Dear Daisy, 2004

Let your heart guide you. It whispers, so listen closely.
~ The Land Before Time

Full Circle

2007-06-24T14:26:00.003-04:00

My message to me, the author, I wrote then shared with others, the readers of Dear Daisy…

live your life…be who you are…do not be afraid…have faith…move past…do not let others hold you back or to deliver you where you do not wish to follow…see the mirror God reflects through water…take pleasure in life…have fun…receive God’s abundance…it is all designed for you…become the child you were created to be and are…return to who you once were, the child of hope and dreams…be one with God and Nature…record your footsteps…build your dreams…feed your soul…and live your life through your Spirit, simple...be one with God…sharing God’s abundance through your gifts as given from Heaven…and so you will give back on Earth…feed your timeless eternal soul, preserve and replenish the Earth tho’ life measured in seconds and days…stay true to the discovery…on your path remain...it was designed and written for you.

http://www.risingsparrowpress.com/announce.htm

In Search of Words

2007-06-18T20:20:00.000-04:00

Days and Nights In Search of Words

(portions of original draft, written 2002)

I have found in my efforts to write
time passes more quickly when in pursuit of words,
capture even more elusive.

Early rise to catch first movement;
a thought already begun in dreams predawn.
The rush, the passion of the hunt,
some need of the hunter, I’m sure.

Words and time fuse.
Words-abstract and floating,
a moment of hesitation, then stalled,
next to appear on page by limit of hand speed.

How quickly they dodge, get lost, or move on
untrapped, always untamed
to the untrained hunter such as I.

Discipline, more needed I suppose
and time scheduled for just this cause, I am certain.
Still game arrives more spontaneous for me.

Work harder at play?
or Play harder at work?
True Writer, the real one would only know.

Always in thought or pursuit of
the words. Serious, maybe not.

Or, me merely a daydreamer
and words interrupt
trying to find their place in an otherwise perfect fog.

If only my mind could focus
on one story, even one thought.
Then again maybe or maybe not.

For all stories must be told
and nice to know that my mind has full supply.
The gift of a full life; many stories to tell.
The promise-a mind that refuses to unwind
and a heart that beats on in pace as best it can
with my desire.

Guide thy Hand, Mind, and Heart
And may abstract transform to concrete
In this time and the next
‘Tho long ago I lost track of time.

-Janie

Written in some hour between one dawn and starlit dawn of another
but I haven’t a clue the hour and wish not to be exact.

Seasons of a writer's heart

2007-04-25T21:13:00.000-04:00

And so, I opened my heart to my heart’s desire, to write.

Honoring those who were teaching me by their example;
their stories of seasons of living

then life-death and choice each step along the path…

And my own life, teaching me, too…

Truth of transitions...
keep it simple and if it is not an absolute “yes” then it is a definite “no”,
and “follow your heart”.

Two lines came to mind.

Peace be my winter. I pray. I hope.
I write somehow to make it so.

Then these words came next…in a time of heart then locked between Winter and Spring.
Much like the Winter-Spring of this season change of 2007,
in a place along the Southern Shoreline of Lake Ontario.

Written April, 2005

(an excerpt attached here...)

Peace Be My Winter

Peace be my winter
The one today.
Even more so
that one tomorrow.

I do wish for gentle snows to fall
Enough to cover.
Quiet, break silence
footsteps crunching the frozen
Just enough to tell me life is still
Around me.

Seasons told by trees and color of land,
Birds flocking and overhead skies,
The waves or none like glass
Early morning or nights
on Lake Ontario.

Thaws to new beginnings
Buds bloom apple and peach
the locals call favorite
Mine, too.

Leave buds of Maple and Oak
One day just popping
On some schedule,
secret, mystery to all
save One and Mother.

If I noticed.

(Summer season omitted here)

The reds of Maples
And the Sycamores
That’s how Upstate
called home is known
In times, named Autumn.

(and some of Autumn lost here on page as well)

Sleep or wake dream
My Soul at home
Snuggled in
under blanket of comfort,
in a place called home.

Next Season or Next Place to be...
Along the southern Shoreline of Lake Ontario.

-Janie

April Poetry Month

2007-04-18T21:48:00.000-04:00

Never claim to be a poet...some say my words sometimes are.

Not so much by any of the poems I have written; More by the way some of my stories read.

April is the Month of Poetry, so the Publishing and Literary world has named.

I dabble with words, form words into the shape of poems...to call them one...

Rhyme or no rhyme but usually a reason attached.

I wrote this April, 2005 in memory of family passing...

One Day in April

I watched an Eagle fly
Heard the story told, too
Standing on ground
Opened for Family
Soul hallowed

And as I stood there
Peaceful
at Lakeview
Sun up, breeze down
My heart filled
at peace
looking up to blue and cloud

I noticed
Solo bird in flight
I listened
To the telling of the Eagle
the Story and the Promise

And in that moment
I remembered
Why I came
What needed to be done
That only I
One
Came to do

This moment of time
These footsteps
Mine
For then and them
of same
Now and times still to come

This expanded moment
I remembered
Same Lake
View
Different day
same message

Returned now
This day
There overhead
Another gone
Not really I know
Just different
than days before had been

I watched
her flight
A pass over the sweet cherry trees
Wing dip "Hello"
"I made it"
"I’m There"

I smile
As I watch
Her flight
So free
My heart secure
For she remembers me

For a moment
my Spirit soars with her
No burden
No care

I come back
to ground
to walk my path
To where
Somewhere
Close
Or an unknown Far

All I know for sure
In this place
Near same Lake
That day before
This day now
My message still comes the same
Record your footsteps

And so
Until my flight
Some day an Eagle be
I shall become
With wings
On way back Home
To same shoreline
With this same Lakeview

-Janie

Once again I was reminded...the storyteller.
The reason I came.

Life stories, this day, question awakened standing upon name ground.
All the while searching for my purpose, I was living it and if time was kind each next day and energy enough…conserved while the living it…and life days long, many, enough or too few...a storyteller.

Kin-ship Readers

2007-03-31T09:28:00.000-04:00

(A story in honor and memory of my Aunt on her Birthday)

Dear Daisy,
Had every intention sending a note earlier…unexpectedly, my energy was pulled to Aunt Mabel’s medical; a life-death thing. Ended up sharing days leading up to her birthday with her in hospital. Discharged back to her nursing home room Thursday only to be rushed back to hospital the next Monday evening facing emergency surgery. Very poor prognosis; she was told by surgeon if she lived, post surgery long term colon bag likely and 2-6 months on ventilator best case scenario. She had shared with me during one of my visits in the hospital the week before that she was already tired of too many months in a wheelchair unable to walk. Looking back maybe she knew then what was around the next bend. Her spirits were up and she talked about birthdays and good times with her roommate friend at the home. How you remember her is exactly who she was even those final two weeks, and especially the final days.

Mom, Dad, Nancy and I were with her in the ER when they told her the news. I was so proud of my family, her family that night. Mabel amazed me beyond belief. I suppose having to walk through this path once before this year with Uncle Eli (November thru February) gave us all the strength. Mom and Dad especially grew through all this being there every step with Eli and it was so apparent their growth now standing with steadfast love and support/nurturing Mabel and her choice.

This time around Mabel was blessed with excellent doctors and nurses. Mabel listened to every word, every detail medical presented, asked really good questions, then made her choice within five minutes and never wavered. Nancy and I were alone with her about fifteen minutes later in ER and we both agree looking back that the radiating aura surrounding her that we both witnessed; her attitude, words she spoke, confidence, conviction (true to her character as you know), something greater than Mabel and us was around. There was no doubt that this was to be her time.

Nancy and I agree we both sensed Grandpa there with Mabel as she made her decision. Who Mabel sensed or how much support she felt from them or us I can’t tell you. She never said. No need really. That she was supported was all that mattered. Her calmness and serenity told me all I needed to reassure my heart and calm my mind. There were too many signs, too many factors and coincidences that are unexplainable by any other means to not sense this as truth. It was eerie being in my space on my side standing there while time marched on and facts came in as our family There and my family here united hearts to support her.

Minutes after she made her choice her conversation to the two of us seemed “out of place”. To Nancy, “Your glasses are really tiny. Can you see out of them?” Nancy answered and smiled but I could tell she wondered why that question and especially why this time looking at her would Mabel notice such a fine detail when all just moments before had been such a massive life-altering choice.

We all just moved on to small talk, making sure she was as comfortable as possible, taking turns sitting with her, then letting her have some time alone. She wanted us to go home, get some sleep. Sleep wouldn’t come easy that night we all knew that so we huddled together in the waiting area and checked in on her from time to time. Well past midnight Mom and Dad drove home. Nancy stayed the night. I returned home to make sure Levi was taken care of and safe and returned to the hospital first thing that same morning.

Staff kept her surgery options open for the next 24 hours. Mabel was aware that each hour she waited reduced her medial chances of pulling through the surgery. Next morning, same choice. She wanted to get back “home” to her roommate and friend, Edna.

That night I went back down to nursing home to spend a couple hours. She was alone with Edna, Mabel watching TV, clicker by her side. I noticed once again that aura all around her. Given the choice, Edna had decided to stay in their room and face this together with her “best friend”. Memories flooded my mind as I sat in Mabel’s recliner looking at the TV and talking some. On my Dad's side, for all purposes in my life she had served the role of my grandmother, assuming the role at age 16 by raising the five younger children when her mother died. Sitting there with her just being, took me back to all the times when I was little when she’d babysit me and we’d watch together Petticoat Junction and The Jackie Gleason Show.

Thirty minutes into watching the show flashing on the screen I wake up to the fact that Mabel is watching an education-medical channel. I ask her if she’s really watching this show or what. Her response, “I always watch this show.” I say, “But Mabel you just came from a hospital.” Her response, “I love this show. I watch it ‘cause I might learn something.” Blew me away. One to three days from the end of her life and she knows it and she “may learn something.”

Wow!!!! So, need I say we watched how a surrogate mother was carrying a baby and the delivery…and I smiled.

That night I wrote this to remember this night and all the others I had spent with Aunt Mabel:

And so, I opened my eyes to the mysteries unfolding.
Connecting with people and the moment now
Trying to understand where I (we) had been
Recognizing that so much was changing
and had changed.

You moving on.
Me here to remain.
For now.
-Janie

Calling arrangements were made for immediate family that Saturday. Funeral arrangements were made for Sunday at the nursing home so her friends back at “home” could attend.

Mabel had given me a shoebox of odds and ends years back (1977). Such a mixture of odds and ends, mostly papers I had no idea what to do with any of it at the time. When I asked she told me that I’d “know what to do with someday”. I did as I was told and all these years all items have stayed right where she packed them in that shoebox. The morning of her calling hours I received first word…the message came from There. As I was attempting to write a piece for her funeral the next day, I struggled being more drawn to the shoebox.

Three items in that shoebox Grandpa, from There let me know to put in the casket with Mabel. I guess he or she or both of them plan to go fishing in Canada with his Canadian Fishing License dated, May 23, 1964, a Canadian Fishing Guide (1964), and his glasses. I didn’t ask why. I just listened and tried my best to get the message right. (Grandpa died the year, 1964)

Back in June, 2004 I had given her a signed gift copy of Dear Daisy. It had been my gift to her and I wanted it to remain with her. Forever. She and Daisy always had a special bond and the book kept that connection of sharing the farm and life there together each summer. Then the question for calling hours, how to arrange, what page should the book be open to, and where to place the items from Grandpa. Nancy suggested Dear Daisy open to my childhood pictures page. Reading the words I had written on that page about childhood, all seemed fitting for this moment witnessing Mabel’s trust and openness to explore the next.

“Childhood is nothing more than, absolutely nothing less than, the courage to discover for the first time with innocence and openness, the faith and passion to explore the next, and the inner wisdom to sense the value of each moment along the path.”
-Janie

I didn’t realize until I opened the glass case of Grandpa at the casket to place it near my book how the green interior of his case matched the book hardcover exact. Looked really nice. Classy even. Mabel was absolutely by far the most beautiful person I have ever seen laid out. Radiating youth, though her age nearing mid eighties; total peace, and I swear she was smiling, natural, not placed there. As for Grandpa, I don’t know, lost his glasses and needed his old pair to read my book? He and God only know. All I know for sure is I felt I was and had been a part of this story that connected our lives.

“Asleep, awake, by night or day, the friends I seek are seeking me. No wind can drive my baroque astray, nor change the tide of destiny. The stars come nightly to the sky, the tidal wave unto the sea. Nor time, nor space, nor deep nor height, can keep my own away from me.”
John Burroughs

“And I will be with you forever, and ever, until the End, and then forever more.”
-God (as written and interpreted by the child, Janie)

Professional Reviews

2007-03-29T17:43:00.001-04:00

Dear Daisy, a book read over and over by readers, and many shared awakening, transformative moments and stories. Many told of second, then third time readings. Many described that with each read, new experience or insight was gained.

Professional Reviewers? Rising Sparrow Press originally limited the number to a handful of copies mailed for professional reviews. This by Publishing standards is extremely conservative. I knew this.
At a later date the list was expanded by 6 additional copies, all tailored to highly specific niche markets. All review copies were author signed and sent to reviewers in the self-publishing and specific niche market venues; each one down a path focusing on social issues. Reviewers? Not one answered. Not one review, good or bad.

Then, and especially now, I wonder if any read the first line, or sentence, or paragraph.Reading bits and pieces at best, how much of the story, the message contained would be missed through casual glance at a cover? Bound traditional, void of a paper dustcover with photo enhanced quality, not modern eye accepted or valued. Prejudice is like that, depth lost. The feel of the book, the texture of life lost and the people’s stories there bound, the Souls underneath are missed in the speed of a modern scan reading moment.

Reviewers, so many today caught in the manufacturing, book printing and distribution; a market-sales world design.A book’s life based upon shelf life days, weeks, a few short months at best for a “best seller”.Investment is based upon how quick the dump, the unload, the sale. Literature for future generations…? I am not wise enough to venture the guess.

Perhaps, more time may tell what books will some later date be rebound, reprinted, and will rekindle the spark of a reader’s enthusiasm and interest.

Self-publishers, dedicated to written word and story, I sense will preserve the tradition of bringing variety to book shelves. Perhaps not all books will be judged by an end market sales value. I hope…for the expanded moment told by journalists and the storytellers of times and places, and the validity of our historical accounts and records hang in the balance. Yes, as a writer I do feel editing and publishing may very well edit away or block the truth and stories of our times if we only write with the final sale our sole purpose.

As the Author of Dear Daisy, hand signed copies floating somewhere…or sitting on some reviewer's personal library shelf…or used to create someone’s social program…or re-gifted as someone’s Christmas present…I wonder…and…I smile, knowing someday those copies will reappear. My only hope…that future holders and distributors will sign the book to the next, and then the next so that the trail can be read…and valued. As a book collector, I love to find old books and I can sense the hands that have held and the path such books traveled...fascinating to see the signature and date trail. As the Author, I would hope this path for Dear Daisy.

A few early sales to coworkers...their stories revealed that a few had family living in Puerto Rico, Canada, and China…so just for the fun of it, I signed a handful of books as gifts to send offshore just to see where Daisy would travel. Someday…maybe two hundred years from now, those copies will resurface…and I can’t wait to see where Daisy’s flight pattern traveled.

As Publisher, the investment in obtaining reviews I would question for future books, especially my own, those similar in written design to Dear Daisy. A self-help, a murder mystery, or an in vogue romance novel…maybe reviews would serve such a book’s purpose.

In hindsight, often the best sight, the professional review path just wasn’t the path for Dear Daisy. In hindsight, I trust my readers more than I wish to donate to reviewer collections.

Dear Daisy in New Orleans

2007-03-28T18:31:00.000-04:00

March is Small Press Month.

March, 2006 while researching the internet for marketing ideas...I stumbled upon a need.
The aftermath of the devastating floods (storm: Katrina) that struck the southern states had destroyed books and the libraries. A donation path had been established for New Orleans.

As Publisher of Dear Daisy to honor Small Press Month; to honor Daisy's southern state's need, in memory of Daisy, a letter and package was mailed:

Attn: Rica A Trigs, Public Relations
New Orleans Public Library
219 Loyola Avenue
New Orleans, LA 70112

Re: Gift copies of Dear Daisy
Restocking New Orleans Public Library Project
March 2006

Gift given (6) copies of Dear Daisy (hardcover) : In Memory of Daisy

Publisher: Rising Sparrow Press
Author: Jane Marla VerDow
Book Dedication: Daisy

Library of Congress Cataloging Number: 2004091496
Ver Dow, Jane Marla
Dear Daisy : a novel / Jane Marla Ver Dow
First Printing June 2004
Hardcover 384 pages
ISBN 1-932878-03-3
1. Spiritual – Nonfiction. 1. Title.
$27.95

Best Regards from Rising Sparrow Press
and Author, Jane Marla VerDow.

Please find enclosed six copies (6) of Dear Daisy ©2004.

May the bookshelves of the New Orleans Library Restocking Project be blessed.

Sincerely,

Jane Marla VerDow

A Child's Promise

2007-03-27T19:54:00.000-04:00

Once upon a time…a little one made a promise to her dear friend, Daisy.

What started out as sending my beets to Africa to feed all the starving children…

imagination and add a few more years being frustrated with the world’s ways,

now a book to sell in my hands, seemed only one thing to do.

Either find a way to send beets to Africa or maybe a better way to feed children could be the book Daisy had helped me to create.

After I finished writing Dear Daisy, waiting for her return, now days away, the storyline of the promise I had made in one passing moment as a child resurfaced from memory.
Heart felt as only a child’s heart knows truth and sincerity,
and any child knows what keeping promises means…
once you say “cross my heart”
there isn’t much that can later be said or undone to change what comes next.

In this moment I didn’t wish to hope for THAT…
June 2004, was too good a day to hope for anything but good ahead on an open road.
From years long gone, I had remembered my word. From the depths of my soul, I answered, "I just have to”.

Total coincidence, the first morning of my search (Oprah’s Angel Network) I discovered Sparrow Village. The name drew me to look. I link clicked and next I knew I was in Africa.
Daisy assured me this was no coincidence and to follow my heart.

I emailed a friend, one knowing me more than most, and family, I asked them, too.
“Check out this website.” I copied the link of their site into the email body.

Friends and family responded, “Perfect fit. The name, the cause, the location. It has you and Daisy written all over it; taking care of sparrows.”

So, on http://www.risingsparrowpress.com/ , the official site to announce Dear Daisy and Rising Sparrow Press I set my intentions to living true to my promise.

Every book sold June, 2004 through December 31, 2004
A donation (8%) will be sent in Daisy’s name
to the children and families served by Sparrow Village.

I linked to their official website.

http://www.sparrowvillage.org/

Rest assured, the world is still filled with promise and God is still watching out for sparrows.

And when you see a sparrow on your path…

Well, you know...Follow Your Heart

May your path be blessed.

Sincerely,

Jane Marla VerDow
(Dear Daisy, 2004)

Every year I, the author; I, the publisher; I, the child
renew this promise to Daisy and to the sparrows.

Of Three Hearts

2007-03-26T20:55:00.000-04:00

As I took first steps Publishing I reviewed previous steps I had taken, my words as written in Dear Daisy. My heart-mind was uncertain and conflict between head and heart caused my steps to be more determined.

Which path the author, I would consent to follow; my personal heart, loyalty to Daisy and her peaceful resolution and teaching ways; and the publisher’s dream to distribute the message of this book to its rightful audience, to propel energy and to profit against debt and investment?

Words written to children (Dear Daisy):

To the “other children” if I could have spoken to them, I would have told them the secret I’ve learned through my experiences with this time called life and to travel a wilderness. It’s all in the step and mostly in the fact that you step but also take time to rest if only for a minute. It doesn’t matter if you can’t feel the ground or have no idea where you’re going. Your feet know the way and your heart is your compass. Follow your heart and build your dreams.

Excerpt from a letter I composed on my Justice pathway in honor of my mentor, Daisy.
(Dear Daisy)

The motto of the National Association of Colored Woman, “Lifting As We Climb” expresses most closely my own beliefs and guides in word what my heart attempts in action for daily living. Perhaps my sharing this additional detail with you will help to further clarify the Justice path I chose.

From Twentieth Century Negro Literature, 1902
“And so lifting as we climb, onward and upward we go, struggling and striving and hoping that the buds and blossoms of our desires will burst into glorious fruition ere long.With courage born of success in the past, with a keen sense of responsibility, which we must continue to assume, we look forward to the future, large with promise and hope. Seeking no favors because of our color or patronage because of our needs, we knock at the bar of justice and ask for an equal chance.”

God be with us on our pathways of Peace and Justice,
Jane

“First, is the dangers of futility; the belief there is nothing one man or one woman can do against the enormous array of the world’s ills –against misery and ignorance, injustice and violence.Yet many of the world’s great movements, of thought and action, have flowed from the work of a single man.”
Senator Robert F. Kennedy (June 6, 1966)

The Author, the loyal friend, and the Publisher, all, consented that a portion of Dear Daisy would be donated. My thank-you to Daisy for being my loyal friend, on Earth and from Heaven.

The dream: to sow seeds to the wind; to let Daisy fly and travel the globe. My heart, all of my heart was drawn to the wonder, and then I wrote this Author letter on the website I created, www.RisingSparrowPress.com

Author's Letter

Welcome.
I hope you enjoy the feel of this website. I hope it feels like
home.

Some say one always knows what they want to be when they
grow up. Truth told, I always knew. At least on some level.
There are the stories my sister could tell of me taking all of the
Little Golden Books in our house and printing my name on
the front inside cover. Those same storybooks now are part of
my home library.

Maybe it was more obvious than I knew when I would write
and hand my work to anyone to read just to watch them read,
seeing their face change, knowing where they were and what I
had written that could alter their expression. Connection.

I never spent a single second or stamp sending in any of my
words to Publishing Houses.That was part of the vision I had.
Back when. Not sending in any of my work, that is. To be
censored or edited or rejected was not part of the plan.

Researching traditional marketing pathways I soon found
myself discontent with modern ways. Too many authors sound
the same. Especially the "how to" books. Too much sales focus
and not enough of anything else. I was searching for my voice.
I love authors who have their own.

You see, I knew the greats that I loved back when I was
dreaming this dream to author made their own path. There was
something pioneering, adventurous, even daring about writing
words and finding a path for words to travel.

So here I am. Writing and finding that pathway.

My dream now? That someone two hundred years from now
will find a copy of my work and it will still hold value.

Jane Marla Ver Dow

“Occasionally in life there are those moments of unutterable fulfillment which cannot be completely explained by those symbols called words. Their meanings can only be articulated by the inaudible language of the heart.”
Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., (Noble Lecture, December 11, 1964)

Paths to Walk/Flight Patterns

2007-03-25T21:25:00.000-04:00

To my dear friend, Daisy...

words written and the spaces between…the song that came into my heart.

That “what if” space I returned to and there she told me her dreams; her thoughts and wishes, at least some.

The sparrow. Wings to fly…designed for, and the song of the sparrow; what defines the sparrow a sparrow from an eagle or a turkey vulture.

One sparrow, another...God knows each one unique. I am not wise enough…nor is any other.

Daisy understood. I, a child, asked more than any adult would have dared to ask and she answered. From her space she answered. She always did.

From my space I, a child, spoke back to her from my heart…my actions. My smile. My simple ways answered her heart back. I always will.

And so I, the child, the author, the publisher had set out on a path...and released Dear Daisy.
One path, by ground. Another, a path of flight...

"One doesn't discover new lands without first consenting to lose sight of the shore for a very long time."
Andre Gide, Fr. novelist

"When you get to the end of all the light you know and it's time to step into the darkness of the unknown, faith is knowing that one of two things shall happen: either you will be given something solid to stand on, or you will be taught how to fly."
Edward Teller

My Youngest Reader

2007-03-23T19:47:00.001-04:00

“I think, at a child’s birth, if a mother could ask a fairy godmother to endow it with the most useful gift, that gift would be curiosity.”
-First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt

As promised yesterday I’ll now tell you the story of my youngest reader as first told to me by his mother.

Seems the copy of Dear Daisy that she had purchased went missing, only to appear in her 3 year old son’s hands. At first, no reason to think this strange or out of the ordinary, after all, little ones do have a tendency to pick up things around the house, that is until they come of the age where one would wish they would… But, I digress.

Seems this pattern continued. Not an issue until she wished to sit down with her copy to read. She asked for her book. In his 3 year old way he made it clear the answer was, “no”. Reasoning with him that he could have the book back but that at this time she wished to sit and read her book, his answer remained the same, this time “my book” being the answer.

From what I’ve shared so far…one would have the picture formed in mind that the book stayed missing each time, stashed someplace only he knew it to be. Well…that is part of the picture, and my first image as I listened to her storyline.

Seems not that the book was missing…hard to miss an object that the child insisted on carrying around the house with him, even taking the book with him in the car. Following him and watching, the mother discovered that those times when he wasn’t carrying the book, he was putting it in his bedroom closet. Knowing his age she thought it best to continue going about their days without pressing the issue.

Cleaning one Saturday morning, she ventured down the hall towards his bedroom. On a cleaning mission, she glanced in noticing he was sitting on his closet floor, holding the book open, reading his book. She then shared with me that her son of three was not a child prodigy capable of reading at advanced levels, in fact he was delayed in speech, barely, if ever speaking. Their origin language is Spanish, and growing up in an English-speaking neighborhood, she felt maybe his speaking delay was confusion over which language he should speak.

Curious what he was doing, and to ask the obvious question, she went into his bedroom only to find that he wasn’t reading. He was listening, or so it appeared from the look in his eyes and the tilt of his head. The little one, a nonreader was holding the book upside down. These things a mother would notice.

Still, she asked her question. “What you reading?” “My book,” his answer. With that answered, she went back to cleaning the house. Moments later she realized that her son was talking to someone, so she went back into his room. “Who you talking to?” “The kid,” his answer as he pointed.

Imaginary friends, weren’t they always the best? I’ll admit that was where my mind thought her storyline would end.

She went on to tell me that the next day she heard her son for the first time speak his own name. Actually, the way she told the story, he declared, “MY NAME IS….” (“MY NAME” said in Spanish”)

His companion and “imaginary friend” not imaginary in any conceivable way to this child playing, sitting, and walking beside, also had a name.

The next week his Grandmother went to a party and brought home balloons tied to a weight rock. The 3 year old passed up the balloons but insisted on the rock weight. The storyteller told me the rock was the same color as “my book”. Now, I, and maybe you, also would think this just coincidence.

The storyteller went on to tell me that she overheard her son talking to his imaginary friend the next few days, and his side of the conversation suggested that he was knowing the storyline I had written in Dear Daisy. The book was being read to him. The story, she had not been reading to him. The story, that he insisted his imaginary friend was reading to him…

I wrote to a friend telling the short email version of this story. I also filled her in on this little boy’s mother who is very open to her son’s mystical mind and ways. In this email I wrote, “The stones may just start talking.”

A Publisher's Path

2007-03-22T18:27:00.000-04:00

Daily on the publishing path I searched both the author and publisher within how to stay true to my writer’s heart and purpose; how to honor Daisy; how to stay true to the voice of children; what niche to follow for sales; and was Dear Daisy a book that could be confined to a niche?

The sparrow There reading beside me here I sensed as I read from Dear Daisy.

Dear Daisy….
I can only hope the seeds that I plant will inspire others to plant their own dreams. I intend to keep planting seeds as long as I’m here on this big ol’ Earth. I guess once a farmer always a farmer on some level. That’s what the work I’ve been doing and getting looks like to me, planting seeds. That seems pretty appropriate for Springtime, wouldn’t you say, Daisy?

Mis’ Jane

Easter was early that year. Palm Sunday, 2001 I went to Church. The sermon was the story of betrayal, otherwise known as the Easter story (my interpretation). Told there, the story of the donkey, the beginning hints of betrayal yet to occur, the hope for the end of the story of salvation and triumph, and the “stones that wouldn’t be silenced”.

Dear Daisy…
That touched me. Think about it Daisy, even if the people were silenced, the stones would speak.
The service also spoke out for justice and mission for programs sprouting to help the youths of today face the violence on their streets and within their schools. My mind, my ears, my heart hears and feels the stones talking. Can you hear the stones, Daisy?

Columbine, then school after school added to the nightmare list. Just goes to show what people, even kids will do when there doesn’t seem to be a next town to walk to. That is a hopeless, lonely place in a human heart. I know that feeling but fortunately for me and for others, walking to the next town was always possible on some level. We, as the adults, need to teach kids about all these towns to walk to because they are stuck in the middle and they may overlook that “next towns” exist. I was blessed to have a vivid imagination, plenty of walking space, a sense of humor, a creative mystery-solving mind. I taught myself to have an outgoing nature, seeking out people to talk and walk with. I taught myself how to walk. I never stopped believing in “next towns”.

Children of our culture today are very enclosed in their environments, long hours of structured activities and “work”, and absolutely every moment of their day is routine or a competition with their peers or with some standardized statistic. Every piece of their lives is a measure of their “self” against something.

Today I write; hearing the sparrow sitting There knowing we are always a child, regardless of how old we grow.

Today, first days of Spring I planted seeds on my path and I wonder what seeds will sprout;
I wonder, too from days long ago planted which survived the cold of a Northern winter.

Tomorrow…I’ll share the story of my youngest “reader” and the story of the day the stones talked.

Art and other what ifs

2007-03-21T19:26:00.000-04:00

"Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing which ones to keep."
Scott Adams, Cartoonist Dilbert

So by the experience of writing the editorial to support and advocate for the sparrow…I learned lessons of editing as the world teaches editing.

True…for some writings omitting words or editing that alters words and corrects words, the writing becomes distinct in content. Message contained in said space.

More true, when I searched my heart and listened to my readers, I discovered the power of words and sequence. It was here that readers gave me feedback that I had heart connected…with one book they could sense my voice there, and when not.

Therefore, some of the best editing takes away the voice of the author, the heart message, the writer’s intent…the purpose of the work…

I also know to be true, by writing Dear Daisy…often what is not written holds the greatest power…the space…that “what if” place…

Daisy taught me unconditional love through words, mostly through her heart expression, sharing time with me, and allowing me to grow in that “what if” place…

I had been the guest writer in a paper section. I was the author of Dear Daisy. By this I made my distinction.

As the parent of Dear Daisy I loved my child, perfect through my eyes just as it was created. No, there would be no changes, no second editions nor editing of words and I would support its full development and whisper the supportive words, “grow, grow” to become the gift it was designed to be. Holding Dear Daisy I felt closer to a truth God the creator already knew; a seed created perfect in it’s own image, compared only to its own purpose, and each seed grows as designed.

Perhaps any other author would have…

Still Art is created by artists; visions reflected, crafted not manufactured. Perhaps that is why Art is created in the first place and solves the mystery of how it survives time. Art is created through artists and visual art sometimes rests even on canvas flawed or despite imperfect strokes, still beauty is found there.

The written word in print less kind, one space for each letter or word. Still, words together the blending appears, and beauty in the perfect, no maybe also the slip can tell more. Through the eye of the beholder, certainly that would explain how I felt, senses and heart the moment I first held Dear Daisy.

Reading I discovered deeper meaning than even I was aware of during times when I wrote the words and stories. From first to final word Dear Daisy was a process unfolding.

Self-publishing would provide the canvass that I could display my works over time, as my words and I evolved. Rising Sparrow Press would provide the pathway to sow. The passion of this belief led me to continue creating and reaching and growing.

Perhaps another publisher would have…

First weeks…

Readers held Dear Daisy in their hands and I took pause when they revealed what page they were on, what story or mystery drew them to question. I waited for the children on that road to reveal their voices, their songs, and the echoes of their hearts. Reader reviews came and somehow, I, this child with “a communication problem” had connected. This truth was a mystery, in part even to me. No two readers of Dear Daisy talked with me about their experience reading this book the same.

As weeks turned to months…

As the author the numbers of readers that shared with me their first experience, then second, and some third or more readings of this same, Dear Daisy book humbled me. I was awed by this and mystified by this power of word Art.

It was this language of heart I most wanted to leave behind as my personal and creative legacy. Language songs playing on the hearts and minds of people, some who crossed my path, yet so many others I would never physically meet yet somehow through my words shared there could be the possibility of an opening being created to cross on some spiritual journey.This was the dream of my heart, mirroring the legacy my heart was drawn to create. Readers of Dear Daisy gave account after account that I was truly accomplishing step-by-step, word-by-word something mystical that they, too were drawn towards. I was humbled to be part of the legacy of ordinary folk facing and sorting ordinary daily living. I sensed connection to each life facing extraordinary challenges that anyone who has ever lived or ever will live face, surviving and growing and taking steps to move on.

So by this truth as shared with me the author, yes, I will claim artistic rights and privilege not as an excuse nor justification for flaws but rather, as proof that not all perfectly written is Art and not all imperfection should be stroked or edited away.

Writing time was pulling at my heart, publishing and distributing Dear Daisy needed time, and events happening in life could not be ignored. I couldn’t help once again feeling as if the next book was being told to me first hand to be recorded for some later printing while I struggled to interpret distractions and obstacles in my life and in the life of others where I served as witness.

In hindsight taking my time revealed more of my own mystery unfolding and what I learned gave me more than even I would have imagined. I learned yet another truth: Editing takes away the texture, true both in writing and in life.

“Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”
Margery Williams, from The Velveteen Rabbit

Editing

2007-03-21T00:11:00.000-04:00

The paper arrived on time the morning the editorial was to appear.

My name and the picture of myself I recognized. The article as it appeared I did not. At least I didn’t recognize what was written as mine.

Sentences I had written were there, most of them, just none of them in the order that I had written them.

My first reaction? “That’s odd.”

I had no connection to what I had written. As time passed and I re-read, I connected less and less.

When I went into work that morning, many approached. Others contacted through email or phone.

These were their comments:
"Did you change your work to write an editorial?'
"The editorial was not your voice."
"I didn't recognize the writing as yours. Somebody else wrote it."
"Bland. I got nothing out of it. I know how you write. Always a strong and deliberate message."
"This wasn't your style. I couldn't hear your voice. Your voice always comes through when you write."

Now I understood my first reaction.

I then was left with the dilemma; do I tell readers approaching me the truth? It truly was not the work I had submitted.
I settled for saying it was the edited version of what had been submitted.

Each then questioned why the work of a "guest essayist" would have an editor. They believed those columns were written by people of the community and the opinions written as authored, not as edited.

I had no answer for their mental quandary.

As an author and publisher, I knew the power of changing key words such as nouns to direct attention to one, then another. Creates direction of blame and tension. Greater power comes with altering message by adjusting the order the reader is exposed to thoughts. I knew this and had been told by readers that I can be most effective with this to convey heart language people can connect with as they read and ponder what they have just read. Never has my work been described as bland.

This experience was my formal education on the power of editing.

My mission was for the children silenced on their road. The edited version…the children’s voices...lost.

I sent an email to the editor and senior editor of the paper stating what my readers had shared with me of their reactions. My final question?

What was altered of the message of the “Guest Essayist” and what outcome will this action have on the growth and development of our community or contribute to blocking the path to peaceful resolution and healing?

Promise Kept to a Fallen Sparrow

2007-03-20T17:49:00.000-04:00

Opportunity to live true to my promise came June, 2004.

A school violence/bullying article appeared in the local paper. I wrote the reporter/columnist and senior editor and mailed a gift copy of Dear Daisy to introduce myself and to explain my interest in the topic.

Though word count exceeds printability as an editorial for your newspaper it is my understanding that longer editorials/topic comments are featured in the Speaking Out Section.
I am familiar with the case reported and am aware of the multiple efforts of the family to seek help and resolution. Over the course of similar time frame, I have been aware of other cases of similar circumstance and pattern occurring within our local schools. The numbers “unreported” publicly, suffered silently by children and families represent the voices still waiting to be heard. No doubt, the great works and words of (Reporter/Columnist) to seek truth and to shed light on patterns of behavior have given us opportunity to challenge systems that fail and will serve as a catalyst and platform for these children seeking voice. On behalf of those children may I say, "thank-you".

Dear Daisy was written as my personal account and to serve justice pathways, a voice for children. Bullying can have dire consequences and it is not just a kid’s game. I offer a gift copy in hopes that it will shed light on violence patterns, systemic responses, efforts to silence victims, and mostly to assist children speaking out against the attacks and violence to speak their truth of how systems charged with managing groups and Institutions continue to fail.

I look forward to all of your future articles and follow-thru efforts working to speak out against violence among and against children. May our community not fall back asleep before constructive efforts to resolve for our children can take root.

Sincerely,
Jane Marla Ver Dow

Editorial as written by author to newspaper

Not Just Kids Play
“Bullying can have dire consequences for children”(Santiago)
June 25, 2004 in the Rochester Democrat and Chronicle nudged us awake. Though our emotional shock is focused on the attack(s) may we remember that failure to provide, failure to act is an equal atrocity under terms of child abuse laws. As I read her article I noted: 2nd grade to fifth grade (time), multiple attacks (events to document), progressive violence (pattern), children reporting and demonstrating symptoms (victim voices), adults knowing (witness), policies written (criteria). What proof of circumstance are we looking for or who’s voice are we waiting to hear before action can lead towards a path to peaceful resolution?

With tax dollars and school budgets always in the news, number of school days strategically calculated to collect Monies, have we fallen into the psychological trap of previous Institution failures? Are we still viewing children as property? If Mandatory Reporting Laws hold Professionals accountable to be the watchdogs of family violence and abuse, does not the same spirit of the law apply when violence has been discovered or reported within their Halls or on property?

We live during the information age yet fail to communicate at basic core levels and fail to read current events beyond the front page. Before we as a community engage in the old divisive battle, the traditional taking up of sides with efforts to victimize the victim and block learning, structure, support and assistance to all victim(s), could we see clearly that children on both sides of this conflict are victims with needs. In our attempts to come to a place of mental acceptance and clarity or to find our comfort distance the question always surfaces just before our judgment: why this child? The answer: because one was in crisis and needed to be heard and the other child was the only one listening.

It is time to ask questions and to seek answers. Are we in a situation of “good” people caught too late asking the “right” questions? Has the “common sense” management and education of children lost its place buried within the collection of statistics? Did denial set-in? Denial will not reach truth, yet truth will rise. It is time for adult ears to listen. Children are screaming “ENOUGH!” Paper programs and flush money will not solve this. One Institution cannot do this alone.

We question why now at the close of this school year would this information rise to our consciousness? Summer vacations are in our hearts. This year closes and we put things away. Next year gives us hope to start over. Maybe the answer is simple. Summer is the time of growth.

Grow we must for the seed that has been planted is the seed of self-contempt, isolated and vulnerable pathways, self-defeating choices, and could at any moment manifest to retaliatory-justice seeking explosions. It is the seed of destruction of the good works we do, the means to the end once again out of balance with false promises to those investing in our education missions and believing in the foundation stones laid by family. If we open our hearts summer can be a time to reflect, to see the contrast reality between light and shadow. It is time to choose wiser the seed we plant.

While Rochester slept, the Supreme Court has already spoken. Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O’Connor provides perspective under Title IX and defines the burden of responsibility to provide safe and equal access to our publicly supported Institutions and Programs. How will Rochester interpret? How will our community meet this challenge?

Before we drift back to sleep dreams may we open our eyes and ears to realize that this is not an isolated event reported one day in a newspaper, our newspaper. Bullying is real and children are unprepared to face this alone or to resolve what society creates on pathways where justice is denied. We all are invested in the outcome. By what higher standards will we each hold ourselves accountable? Time will tell the story. While time passes and the Summer Sun provides its light may we reflect upon this question: Are we so concerned with how our Institutions look to a community that we fail to wonder how we appear to our children?

Jane Marla Ver Dow
Author, Dear Daisy, Rising Sparrow Press

First Reviews

2007-03-19T19:30:00.002-04:00

Searching for paths to sow Dear Daisy was literally feeling my way in a publishing world I knew nothing of firsthand. I read and searched and researched but most of all I spent time in reflection of what my heart mission would be and remain. At times this appeared in contrast to how the World said it should be. Each footstep, I introduced Dear Daisy to those on my path and awaited reactions and responses while I walked the road ahead.

Readers held Dear Daisy in their hands and I took pause when they revealed what page they were on, what story or mystery drew them to question. I waited for the children on that road to reveal their voices, their songs, and the echoes of their hearts.

Reader reviews came and somehow, I had connected. This truth was a mystery, in part even to me. It was this language of heart I most wanted to further explore.

Initial reactions of readers closest to me?

Immediate family was very supportive of my writing.
Mom “never before stayed up to read, any book” …alone in the darkness of night to catch a glimpse of light or enlightenment…an understanding of someone she thought she knew…all these years….
Dad couldn’t have been more of a father in that moment. Marketing…“you’ve just got to…the world needs this message…”
Sister…“I grew up with you… shared memories. I never knew you. Now I do.”
Her favorites: the Epistle…and the Lakeshore story.
Aunt: “Your grandfather would be very proud.”

Stories of locals who purchased the book?

Never did I anticipate hearing this next (ironic really) Spiritual based…Golden Rule…“I haven’t finished reading it yet. My book was stolen by…”

I joked that my promotion would have to include I had in fact increased the local crime rates. Theft was not my intention yet pride flooded my heart each time I heard their confessions.

Some readers…opened and discovered themselves or at least a part of themselves they had never taken enough time, became silent enough or quiet enough to read. Then again maybe it was a sense of contentment and the quiet time sitting there under the trees with Daisy and a young child who never quite grew beyond those moments regardless of how many days passed in between. Was it such moments and permission to be in such moments that the reader’s child decided to tag along?

Older weekly “church-going” Christian readers surprised me speaking out against their “modern” religious experiences.
One said, “I go to the place where we worship money. Building a building that no one seems to know why we are building or what the building will serve. Still mission money, money we have promised to aide others is behind schedule.”

I sent a gift copy to my advocate friend (support against violence in churches).

Dear James Evinger,

…It is true. I have written my book, Dear Daisy and forged the path to self publish. I chose the self-publishing route because I’ve always admired those of our history that delivered the message of their times despite “commercialism” and “limits”. I guess I am a rebel. I admit it.

Rising Sparrow Press was officially born December 2003 and now web site can be found at http://www.risingsparrowpress.com/.

I am in process of writing a second book, Rising Sparrow, a sequel to Dear Daisy. Still writing, far from final editing stage. Some of my writing is “too mystical” at times even for me and though true to my experiences, much of the World would believe it to be fiction. So I may have to write a third book, the true mystical stories of my life, label it “fiction” and call it, (“_________”).

(Of course the publisher in me edited out the title on this blog!!!!)

…I anticipate in the very near future expanding the web site writing on topics to promote nonviolent resolution pathways and to serve justice, speaking out about our times, and also to serve my passions for history and exploring the voice of ordinary day-to-day folk. I know I am a storyteller at heart and most wish to find my path to this mission.

…Hope you enjoy Dear Daisy. Once again, thank-you for being there when the World was throwing mud.

Keep in touch.

Jane Ver Dow

His response and review?

“I’m writing to thank you for the copy of Dear Daisy. It’s amazing and profoundly written. Thank you for your courage and the risk you took to create it. (But that is you, isn’t it!)
It’s direct, honest, truthful, personal, and always looks at the larger principles. It’s engaging and thoughtful, and so it has taken me awhile to complete it- I’d put it down because it forced my own reflections. May God’s Spirit continue to guide you.”

James Evinger

Honored and humbled would be the words my heart defined for my confused mind. This level of support I simply was not prepared to receive. It was this language of heart I most wished to leave behind as my personal legacy.

As for the fallen sparrow?
I had made a promise as we read Dear Daisy together, him There, me here…
I would not ignore nor turn my back on sparrows needing voice. Their song, his song would be heard.

the sparrow song

2007-03-18T11:21:00.001-04:00

Having already read the story through rewrites and edits and mostly having lived the story one too many times, I chose the first hours of the next few days delivering and mailing gift signed copies to a select few. During this window from delivery to formal copyright date, I returned to my prepublication list and materials created for promotion that I had written waiting her arrival. Narrowing my niche,uncertain this being “the first” what my niche was, I selected a couple dozen reviewers. Heart open, I sent them on their path.

The transition from the withdrawn, quiet life of an author to the active, competitive-driven world of the publisher took energy and adjustment time. I had preplanned. I had pre-selected. I had created promo materials before I ever felt Dear Daisy in my hands. Transition from author to publisher, first steps had been taken.

Content I had done all that could be done in these first hours, proud and at peace,I sat down to breathe, book in hand, and cracked the cover of Dear Daisy with the intent to read the story I had written.
An author, first book…heart open to explore what pages had transformed to become, now bound between hardcover. Discovery, exploration, touching land…all of this I felt…

Still…Life does not stop for this. Life has a way of not allowing itself to be edited out. I can’t tell you what page I was on when the phone rang. I can tell you not more than one-third way through I learned that where the author ends a book is often times not where the story chooses to end. A sparrow, one close to my heart, too overcome and challenged by this world, had fallen to the ground. Disbelief how life had written this epilogue chapter...days later I returned and continued to read the story I had written sensing this sparrow reading by my side. The author’s copy of Dear Daisy will forever hold my tears.

My dream in my hands

2007-03-17T11:39:00.000-04:00

The first hours after Dear Daisy had arrived by tractor trailer the driver and I unloaded the pallet, literally pushed the pallet up the driveway hill, or tried to…the trucking company had not supplied motorized transferring equipment…manual labor was how it happened to unfold. I shared the laugh with him, the driver, how Daisy must be laughing from heaven watching this story and our efforts…how true then our shared path of labor…now her watching from above knowing full well my determined little mind and heart. He stayed for the process of unloading then I alone completed the task of stack storing each box in safe place inside. The time: just over two hours.

Exhausted, I once again lifted the flap of the test-confirmation box. I held her, my book, I guess just to confirm the reality that in fact she had arrived. Holding and reading the cover, part of me questioned if in fact my eyes were being truthful. I questioned how this could be, my name where the author's name should be. I traced the letters forming my name and held the hardbound book, sensing the texture. My hands and my eyes still with some level of disbelief, I placed my copy of my book on my wooden desk to sit and take it all in, or maybe to catch my breath. Both I am now certain true.

Later I returned, curiosity overtaking all other emotions, my fingers opened the front cover to glance at the flyleaf, color perfect as I, the publisher had chosen that winter day in February. Next, the title page, there written, Dear Daisy. Page turn one more, the copyright page. True there my publishing name appeared. Reading eyes still truth blurred, my eyes focused as I read the dedication page.

Dedication

This work is dedicated with all my love to Daisy.

Her warmth taught me love, her gift of
patience taught me to search my heart for
patience with others, her Soul taught me
strength equal to compassion, and through
her love and guidance I learned to reach for
my World.

Every blade of grass has its Angel
that bends over and whispers,
“Grow, grow.”
-The Talmud

How true…"grow, grow" …what I once felt, today, I felt once more…

Birth Announcement

2007-03-12T17:39:00.000-04:00

Dear Daisy

Arrived: 9 AM April 29, 2004
Weighing: 1842 lbs.
Thought Conceived: Upstate New York
(December 1999)
Printed: BookMasters, Mansfield, Ohio
(February 25, 2004)
Under Crescent Moon and Venus Star
Bound and Delivered: Mercury Retrograde
Bound: Grand Rapids, Michigan

Delivery:
Stork #1 R & L Transit
Stork #2 Yellow Transportation
Birth Path: Grand Rapids, Michigan
Wilmington, Ohio
Greenville, Georgia
Rochester, New York

Arrived Under Last Degrees of Mercury
Retrograde as Moon enters earth sign
Virgo “the maiden holding wheat,
separating grain from chaff”

Proud Parents
Author : Jane Marla Ver Dow (Earth)
Editor: Candaisy “Daisy” (Heaven)
Publisher: Rising Sparrow Press
Est. December 22, 2003

http://www.risingsparrowpress.com/announce.htm

http://www.risingsparrowpress.com/order.htm

The Road Not Taken

2007-03-11T13:17:00.000-04:00

From outside Cleveland to well near Columbus I daydreamed a new storyline. Maybe Fiction next time.

Storytellers and apprentices, legends that come down through time, how this could be, yet is. I guess this only natural having caught the radio signal out of Canada as I passed Erie heading toward Cleveland this early morning;The Passion of Christ, religion, movie release day, and such. This Canadian station and voice was critical of the film and especially its Director. I understood their reasoning. The movie I knew I had no desire to go see and knew I never would.

Staying on the road despite the time and distance growing, my mind found to wander, coming back only to check my speed or notice a landmark.The weather warm and sunny on this snow free day, my path was clear and it was so hard to believe we were in the heart of winter. An open road, my words sitting next to me on route to become a book, me an author, a publishing company established. All of it, including this day, seemed a dream.

This stretch of road through Ohio I had driven before on my way to Indianapolis. I knew the road, each curve, each city, each suburb. Years had passed, too many to comprehend. One of those moments when time seems frozen yet one is only too aware of the space and experiences in between. Age has a funny way of creeping on, passing unaware until time comes back around a second time in the same place.

The drive of days before felt old, still the adventure this day felt new. Felt same...I remembered nearly twenty years earlier as I drove off on adventure to attend graduate school in Indianapolis. Same road, exact exit, once I stood broken down waiting, then moved on to there. Now same road, exact exit this time I turned there. Let my mind sort through the time passed and experiences caught in between while my heart...once more chose...

The Road Not Taken
Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And I looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Sow Seed to the Wind

2007-03-10T12:37:00.001-05:00

My words, a common voice on a road traveled, a road called life. One voice echoed through a canyon while another wrote a solitary account; a life story written. No more, but absolutely no less. Record my footsteps and release those words to a path; that was my heart mission.

So not knowing where I was on this path, having just a memory of what had been and what I could dream tomorrow to be, all I knew was the feeling of the moment…

Perhaps another author would have…

Reflecting on the seed now planting, the seed planted yet time needed for harvest, and what Rising Sparrow Press would sow…

The final words of Dear Daisy were written still it would take another six months before Rising Sparrow Press would be born, December 22, 2003. Rising Sparrow Press didn’t feel like a small step. That step felt like I was defining myself, bringing Dear Daisy out from the safety of my home and heart for the World to judge. Self-publishing would provide my path to bring forth my words, my message, and to overcome societal limits and prejudices. Creating Rising Sparrow Press to publish Dear Daisy meant recreating myself, searching and walking a pathway totally foreign.

Spring this year would hold meaning. I needed to believe once more in the hope of Spring. Summer would follow Spring and the first days of Summer had always been mine to believe in Sun and Daisy’s return. Publication date was set; June, 2004.

Money sacrificed aside from daily struggles and living needs while writing and collating Dear Daisy, as Spring approached one prematurely warm winter day in February (Ash Wednesday) I drove Dear Daisy to Ohio to the printing press.

Driving, miles stacked against me, I daydreamed each mile of the road to Ohio and each mile of my return home remembering where I had been and dreaming visions of where I was hoping the road would take me.

First miles it was fresh in my mind of the times of reaching out, finding the courage and committing the time and heart to the day-to-day steps required to write Dear Daisy. I knew nothing about writing, still I had written, covered pages with words and my name would appear on the cover as author.

Then establishing Rising Sparrow Press. The fact that I knew nothing of the book printing process save creating margins and legible copy was just the tip of my naivety. The expansive publishing world; rules, system conformities, steps required from this office then the next, of course money all slowed my pace, hiking the mountain with my well-worn sneakers, day by day checking my progress and my supplies. Somehow, my to-do-list became more manageable with hours of reading and studying and perhaps it was my naivety that assisted my willingness to take each next step.

Time was on my side as each step required investment, especially the ISBN registration through Bowker’s and the printing. I knew I wanted to create future writings. I had five books already started, one, a children’s book featuring Levi and this alone I could envision a future series. Seemed reasonable to not limit myself to a package of ten ISBN when I was certain there could reasonably be a number eleven. Nine hundred dollars later and paperwork filed in hand I held proof that Dear Daisy as a book had secure place.

Perhaps any other publisher would have…

Small steps I took with much time between each for sleep and balance practice. My first words I had found and my first steps now would come together. I thought, how true the first time; how true this time. Remembering that once I had mastered first words and first steps to gain mobility, surely with time, patience, and practice I could do it again. Mobility-Stability, just takes courage, time, and tries. My words were already on paper, waiting to be printed and released. Surely, just a step, one step at a time couldn’t be that big a deal.

Each step took patience. Most days I balanced my fear of progress against my fear of being held back by a World demanding conformity. My desire to break from conformity surfaced again and again. The old way, the way of grit and Spirit of writers I admired; self-publishers that came before me. I had read of Mark Twain’s path and envisioned first printing presses that released Ben Franklin’s words. Revolutionary and independent in thought, that appealed to me.

Reliving yet one more time, a death, that's how I'd describe writing as I sensed the last words finding place on paper. Ending the book, leaving Daisy or sensing her leaving me, that was the feeling I struggled against. Still I sensed this time coming and when it appeared I just knew, much like the first time, time was moving on. So, heart giving in to time and unknown tomorrows, I let go and redirected my focus, though blurred by tears.

Birthing gave way to a mother's heart holding on too tight, I guess that's how I’d describe leaving my baby behind in the hands of the stranger, printer. Collated pages to become a book,
now in the hands of others. Truly a bittersweet life moment.

Fear came not knowing where the pathway of publishing would take me. My heart, I knew, was not prepared for a business failure and definitely not another dead-end. With so much invested I discarded such thoughts. I chose instead to believe in new beginnings. Still, it would take standing on what felt to be the edge of a cliff, closing my eyes, and a leap of faith, totally a leap of faith.

“A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for.”
-William Shedd

"To finish is sadness to a writer—a little death. He puts the last word down and it is done. But it isn’t really done. The story goes on and leaves the writer behind, for no story is ever done."
-John Steinbeck

Self Published Author

And so…I, one voice,
searched for simply a way to say
and to write
my heart.

To be in the end I,
name, Author?
Maybe –I Am.

Hearts finding connection,
time and wind carried pages
someday tell.

Publisher?
Find the Heart Land fertile.
Cultivate the path for my words,
Sun to find.
Sow my seed to the wind.

Jane Marla Ver Dow
Rising Sparrow

Janie

2007-03-09T17:51:00.000-05:00

Dear Daisy… a book that would present truth of the moment, raw presentation without pretense and with no apology.

I loved cartoons (I still do) and my little dog that followed me on adventure after adventure. My first doggie, Gretzels had really short legs (she was a “hot-dog” doggie) so keeping up with me wasn’t always in her plans. Gretzels died when I was 3. She sleeps on the East side of the outdoors stone fireplace that my Dad built. There were some birds that didn’t make it from a nest I found ‘bout that same time, so they’re planted behind the fireplace. I usetuh pick my Mom’s pansies and put them on their graves but I never told nobody ‘cept Sandy, the puppy that came to live with us.

I was the second youngest in the second wave, largest and last group of kids born on my Dad’s side of the family. My sister was the first-born. By the time I was two and three I used to work picking stones with Grandpa and my Dad and one time I was working so hard I hit Grandpa in the head flinging rocks backwards over my head from the wagon to the rock pile at the woods edge. He said some “extra words” then laughed realizing it was just me. He bought me my trike when I was four. He died when I was five years old, three months after my Grandma on my Mom’s side passed. My other two Grandparents I only knew by passed down family pictures and stories that family would tell of their lives.

My sister and I can remember the trips my Grandpa would take us on to the next town for ice cream sundaes. They served “pig’s dinners”. Your imagination is right on target. I loved my Grandpa. He was tall, an old-fashioned, private man with a distance unique to him. Everyday he wore blue jean coveralls. On the cold days of season change he wore his blue jean frock or during winter his Carhart chore coat that would hang on the hook in the kitchen waiting for him.

I loved living so close to him. I made several daily trips, crossed the street alone when I was old enough, and always managed to make it just in time to eat a cookie or two at break time with him. Some lunches I ate over there. His favorite lunchtime sandwiches were Limburger Cheese and Mustard-Sliced Onion. Those weren’t my favorite sandwiches. I would go outside to play in the yard or on the farm shortly after eating ‘cause Grandpa always had to take a five-minute nap after lunch. I remember he had a strange watch. Everything he ever did, especially if someone else was involved doing it with him or if he needed to talk us into doing the work in the first place, if it meant waiting for him, no matter what he used to say, “It’ll only take five minutes.” His other famous line was, “hustle up”. I caught on real fast. We would all just smile and go about doing whatever, knowing full well the truth.

“Wolf” my Grandpa’s dog, was a huge Black German Shepherd and extremely loyal to his owner. He looked like a wolf, especially his eyes. Wolf let me ride him around the yard at my Grandpa’s when I was real little. He was like riding a horse. No way my feet could touch the ground. I mostly just hung on, fell off, and ended up hugging him ‘round his big ol’ neck. I knew others were cautious around him, but as for me, I just loved him and he loved me.

My Grandpa baked the bread for the family. My Grandma on that side died when she was 40. Later years, by the time I came ‘round, we had bread delivered to his house about once a week. The man who used to drive the “Bread Truck” was absolutely terrified of Wolf. “Red” (his nic-name ‘cause his hair was so Red) had good reason. Wolf had been known to bite people who pressed the wrong way and warned off every stranger. My job during bread delivery time was to watch for the bread truck and Red so that I could “be in charge of” Wolf. Delivery time was predictable, always right after lunch, just after the radio broadcast farm report, ‘bout the listening time for radio celebrity, Paul Harvey on WHAM (famous for closing each day’s commentary with, “…and now, for the rest of the story.”), and always during Grandpa’s five-minute nap.

Wolf would walk right by my side to the truck, not more than inches between his fur coat and my hand stretched out to the side over my head to reach his back. I’d talk to Red from the first step of his van-truck while he put together the order from the list and while he’d get some free samples of cookies or cakes that were sitting in trays and hand them to me with the bread. I’d be sure to say "thank-you" and we’d say good-byes or usually by this time my Grandpa would come out to talk. Wolf by my side, I’d walk to the backdoor to put the bread on the kitchen table then come right back out ‘cause I could read Wolf the whole time he was walking with me. He wanted to stay with Grandpa, back watching Red.

Wolf never changed his stance as the weeks became years even though I tried to build a relationship between him and the bread man by sharing my share of the free samples with him. Red was a real nice man. I never sensed anything Wolf should be concerned with, but this was just Wolf’s way. Wolf didn’t buy it. He didn’t trust anyone that didn’t live there. Wolf did like the treats, though. Wolf died when I was 4. I helped Grandpa plant him under the apple tree.

We had chickens in the chicken shed and one to three cows in the barn. I loved the cows and we even had a calf once. When I finally figured out why we really had cows I gave up eating hamburgers for a while. The final straw that gave the truth away was the trips to our “meat locker” at the Cold Storage uptown. Our locker was upstairs so we had to walk the icy stairs with crates of package wrapped meat, my cows, the ones that disappeared overnight and even in the middle of summer never did you go to the meat locker without your winter coat and mittens. Lighting was terrible, about a 30 watter covered with frost and ice, just ready to blow. Dad always carried a flashlight and we always made sure someone stayed in the car just in case “the door locked behind us.”

I ate the chickens though and didn’t mind none carrying all them chickens, package wrapped to the Cold Storage. I hated them chickens. It was my job to collect the eggs or at least to help collect the eggs. They’d all act like they were moving to the side of the shed, talkin’ the whole time ‘munst themselves. Then turn your eyes (I never turned my back on them) and next thing you’d know they’d all be sneakin’ up on yuh and crowdin’ the door so you were trapped. I got the eggs. Never had to use none them eggs, but I would’a if I had’a in self-defense.

I also had a pet skunk. He stayed outdoors. He came ‘round one year and must have thought he was a cat ‘cause he ate with them and stayed with them. He usetuh follow me ‘round everywhere jus’ like the cats. My Mom and Dad tol’ me “watch out” ‘cause he may have Rabies or somethin’ or he may spray me with somethin’ but he never did. He lived there with my cats in the barn for the whole summer so he didn’t have no Rabies. I think he was just an old man skunk.

Winter meant rest from work, go to school, stay home from school with ear infections and high fevers, go back to school and be bored. I had favorite storybooks and knew them by heart and read my favorite, Curious George, but I was anything but a bookworm. Home time was cartoons, Romper Room, Captain Kangaroo, and late afternoon the Mickey Mouse Club and I Love Lucy. I loved nighttime TV shows and I made up every excuse to watch my favorites. Bedtime was late by kid standards so I never missed Red Skelton, Andy Griffith with Barney, Gunsmoke, or the Ed Sullivan Show. I loved to watch any old silent black n’ white comedy ever made, Laurel and Hardy and the Ma and Pa Kettle movies, topping the list. I loved The Three Stooges, not for the hitting and violence, ‘cause of their stupidity.

School was boring. The way I looked at it, I already knew enough words. In fact I knew many more than they taught in school, some I wasn’t sp’osed to use, and I could count cookies and even do some math countin’ in my head. Time passed and so did I.

“It is something to be able to paint a particular picture, or to carve a statue, and so to make a few objects beautiful; but it is far more glorious to carve and paint the very atmosphere and medium through which we look. To affect the quality of the day – that is the highest of arts.”
Henry David Thoreau

Miz Jane

2007-03-08T17:58:00.000-05:00

December 3, 1999 I wrote my first letter to Daisy.It had been more than thirty years since I consciously thought about Daisy more than just in passing from time to time.The letters just started flowing naturally one winter night. In this moment of midlife loneliness and losses, I guess it really was logical that Daisy would be the one I would turn to when I needed to convey my deepest thoughts and feelings.

I wrote to Daisy...

It struck me as I read the letter to Daisy back to myself that I had signed my name “Janie”. Daisy never called me “Janie”. That was my White World nickname. This name I hated when I was young because I thought it made me sound little, like it was a baby’s name, and I certainly didn’t need any more reminders I was little. Now that I’m older and trying to forget how to count passed 39, “Janie” seems just fine.

Daisy knew me as “Miss Jane” or if written in spoken language, “Mis’ Jane” with the s heard more like a z held in sound waves more like zzzzz. Daisy either held the “z” sound this long or my young ears just loved the sound of Daisy speakin’ my name so much my ear drums wouldn’t let go. Truth told, I’m sure it was some of both.

“See yuh next break time, Daisy.” This always played in my mind long before I had the words. “Bye, Daisy” was about the most I’d say. You’d say, “Bye, Mis’ Jane.” Most times we jus’ said, “Time tuh gits back tuh work” and then we did. No need for G’byes”. Besides, “Bye” meant we were moving apart in space, to the next row or tree, but we could still see eachother working. “Bye” didn’t mean that our talkin’ was done for very long.

Bye, Daisy
Mis’ Jane

Songs of the Orchard

2007-03-07T18:12:00.000-05:00

The beginning….
Songs of the orchard played in my mind as words appeared on paper.
I thought of Daisy and her home with Jim…

Nearing the ending…
At the depth of my heart I knew the Truth of my singing the folk songs in the orchards with the wind…

As I wrote…
Songs of days long ago lived then gone, never outgrown, continued to play in my head and I hummed along as words appeared on paper…

Songs of the orchard…closest I’ve ever found to poetry; truly, the inspiration for such…
words playing on canvas.

Winds blow then fade. One moment of time changes the world, or at least our perception.

There standing, sitting, being, holding her space-filling her space; Daisy.
Learned lesson, the one that came to me just watching Daisy, no words; she needed none:
Just hold your space-fill your space. Her message, so clear to me now.

So truth told, I learned about blank space in writing from her, and from holding my space while the winds did their own game. Filled in the space between with orchard songs. Daisy by nature didn’t use many words. The gaps between allowed me to just be, there with her.

So I learned most about words by time spent in listening and waiting. Let them be. Give them space and respect. Honor the life rhythm of each and every. Together, they find their own place and share.

Blank space in writing is where you, the reader comes…to sit and be.

Blank space, that’s where all the “what ifs” live.

From somewhere deep within, there was a voice calling me home. I had to listen. When a child of any age hears that voice, there’s no denying it, least not to yourself, especially when the call becomes a whisper.
Jane Marla Ver Dow
Dear Daisy, 2004

Let your heart guide you. It whispers, so listen closely.
~ The Land Before Time

Orchard Talk

2007-03-06T17:06:00.000-05:00

Waiting for the book to be printed reminded me of days long gone wondering what the longest hour in any child's mind, 11 AM to some days long past 12 would bring.The mystery and the wait? Well, what was for lunch of course and also what the mailman would bring.

Not that I was interested in all of the letters.It was just that during the summer months that was one of my jobs; waiting on the mailman and bringing the letters to the house.At least from the time that I could pop open the mailbox front door.Not that I really loved having one more job in my day.No, it was just fun seeing if any had J-A-N-E printed on the flat side and the best days always I saw printed there, D-A-I-S-Y or J-A-M-E-S. With that, I was off on two feet running or wheels rolling to make my delivery run.

Waiting also gave me time, more than I knew what to do with.Don't think anyone ever outgrows the what to do with time question.

Waiting on the arrival of Dear Daisy, story after story replayed in my mind.Had I put this one in? Or did I remember that storyline for the book?

There in the orchard...

Daisy could relate to my stories told and untold.She shared in my discoveries of the day, and dreamed dreams of the future as we envisioned it should be, right along side me.Together we could expand one thought so it took up time and space, so it would grow in its own time, sit resting doing nothing and create love, break down complex life questions to the simplest of answers, solve this World’s problems of war and violence by speaking one more time for peace, could paint a picture of God’s Heaven in living color, and still have time for a sandwich.

Oh, how simple the solutions we’d find to the World’s ills.Daisy would say it all in one word, “Love”. I’d always ask the “how comes” and “whys” and the “what ifs” I guess mostly because I couldn’t understand if the answer was so simple, why peoples had such a hard time getting it right.Her answer always came back down to doing the same thing, “The answer be to loves Yo’brothers an’ loves Yo’sisters much youse loves Yo’ ownself”.Daisy knew the Golden Rule. She lived it.

The “what is” moments explored our immediate World, the trees and fruits, the birds and nests, flowers of the fields, bugs that we’d swish and swat.Skeeters always had the question attached, “Did yuh gits ‘em?”

“What does” replaced “what is” when I needed a word or action explained.Either of these came up if she was eating something unfamiliar to me, and if I was hungry.

“Whys” always came somewhere in the middle.I’d ask what I dared know the answer to and wouldn’t ask if I sensed it was a private.Always I was good ‘bout respecting what she made no motion tuh answer, like it wasn’t my concern.“Whys” were built to explain everything in life, but mostly came up in regard to other’s actions or some perceived roadblock on my path.“Whys” and “What yuh thinks ‘bout” always made time longer than real.“Why” became “Why yuh think” if I had a real pondering question ‘bout a big life challenge that probably only God would know the answer to but I thought I’d check with Daisy just in case.

The “what ifs” always held dreams.They were the opening words that would lead us down any path of our choosing and would certainly build us a better World.Perhaps answering the “What ifs” took up more time than any other question that I could think up.They were the mystical or had the power to change the air we breathe.The “What ifs” could change where you lived, who you were, what you were doing in the moment, and where you could travel.They changed for the moment God’s Plan or the World’s Plan and the paths we found ourselves on if only for a moment of pretend.We always came back to reality, to home, to our place assigned.We always came home to find that we had never really left.The cherries were still hanging on the limb we left them hanging on not more than five minutes earlier.

Born to be a storyteller

2007-03-05T17:54:00.000-05:00

That must be true.

My dreams and my waking moments of heart whisper this to me.

Too many memories for words to hold of times back then taking breaks with Daisy sitting on overturned cherry pail or apple crate just being...and talking. Listening to her stories then telling one of my own or making it up as I went along, no matter. For time and sharing, a place to just be; she being Daisy and to discover the one I called, me.

Confession: the only thing I ever “stole” was our Little Golden Book children’s storybooks.
Many books once my sister’s, from my eyes I just took ownership of yet another pass-me-down item. As my early printing would reveal, I wrote my name in all of them.

Early book signings?

An inner sense of an author waiting to be born?

A desire to be able to read? Grew to become, a heart waiting to be read.

Dear Daisy

2007-03-04T22:16:00.000-05:00

Dear Daisy

Content Synopsis

Dear Daisy, nonfiction, reads as life is presented day-to-day and by seasons. The author, a gifted storyteller invites the reader into the world and relationship between a Colored illiterate Migrant Woman sharing her wisdom with a boss man’s child under cherry and apple trees during the early 1960's. Daisy, an Angel on Earth years later mystically reappears an Angel from Heaven to guide the grown child on her pathway back Home.

Dear Daisy tells a story 2000 years old yet reminds us how challenges continue to play out and that we each contribute to writing the story.

As the story begins, the author caught in a personal struggle of survival under conditions felt oppressive, writes to Daisy. As the reflective search for self and path unfolds, the 9-11-01 story strikes as a Holy War between extremists of Nations. Before the dust settles, 10-28-01 brings world chaos personal. Living the aftermath, the author struggles to forgive and declares through writing an Epistle as part of her emancipation pathway that violence as a rightful expression and worship of God is not the God of her faith.

Order Direct from Rising Sparrow Press
Library of Congress Cataloging Number: 2004091496
Ver Dow, Jane Marla
Dear Daisy : a novel / Jane Marla Ver Dow
First Printing June 2004
Hardcover 384 pages
ISBN 1-932878-03-3
1. Spiritual -- Nonfiction. I. Title.$ 27.95

http://www.risingsparrowpress.com/announce.htm

So this is where my story began way back when...Springtime, it was
then began again in the Autumn of the year, 1999 when memories were first written as words...then pages...to print
another beginning, a publishing company, founded in the Winter of 2003 by the author to recreate the feel and texture of a book that may have been carried by the author or her friend in a year like 1959 or 1964.
starting a storyteller, later years a writer, I, to be an author, the day...Ash Wednesday, 2004, drove pages to printer, BookMasters, Mansfield Ohio...and then I, the publisher made final edits and approvals...
then I, the child...waited...

Storytellers and Writers

2007-03-04T16:33:00.000-05:00

Day one.