tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75952308557118106682023-11-15T23:14:59.703-08:00Courage QuestSallyDeMasi - The World As I See Ithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07484163581226556024noreply@blogger.comBlogger10125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7595230855711810668.post-3134129150368242672017-10-04T09:01:00.002-07:002017-10-04T09:05:26.769-07:00Press Release - "Spiritual Quest" Book Launch<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b><u><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Press Release</span></u></b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> <u>FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE<o:p></o:p></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Sally
DeMasi – October 6, 2017 - McCall, Idaho<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";"><a href="mailto:sallydemasi4@gmail.com">sallydemasi4@gmail.com</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Spiritual Quest
Book Launch – </span></b><b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Discovering Your
Higher Self Through Love<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<a href="http://www.survivalspiritualquest.com/"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">http://www.SurvivalSpiritualQuest.com</span></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">---------------------<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">What
are your spiritual dilemmas, how can you realize your authentic self and find an
individual path to spirituality at this time in your life? <b><i>Not someone else’s journey, but
yours</i></b>. What is right for you now, in this precise moment?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">DeMasi’s
extremely personal journey is revealed as a roadmap for others to uncovered the
big questions we ask in life –death, passions of love, our God—found with the
assistance of angels, as we uncover compassion and surrender. What part does
fear play, death, forgiveness and what ties our humanity together? – it could
be LOVE. How do you find a gift of peace—silence from your over striving,
technology driven world? Why should you?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">DeMasi,
is a writer of stories of discovery—adventure quests with her passion to
contribute to other’s personal growth through her humor and depth of life
adventures. Her book, <i>Courage Quest</i>, explores a search for fear
– traveling solo to unusual destination worldwide. She explores her corporate escape,
search and finding novena in the mountains of Idaho</span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;"> where the universe allows
her to write about pertinent issues of global survival, courage. <i>Survival Quest</i> reveals ways to
confronted crisis, why some do or do not exist. Her latest book along this journey,
<i>Spiritual Quest</i> shares how to find
your individual higher self—finding your life passion, how to uncover your
individual spiritual adventures through love. Her books are peppered with her
amazing photos and quotes from Dalai Lama, Helen Keller, John Muir, Sir Edmund
Hillary, Isabel Allende, Bear Gylis, Marianne Williamson, </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Stephen R. Covey, </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Pema Chodron, </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Christopher Reeve,</span><i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Danny Kaye,</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;"> John Muir, John Lennon, Jewel,
Leo Tolstoy, Lao Tzu, Mark Twain, Ernest Hemmingway, Robert F, Kennedy, John
Schaar, which document her quest. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Visit
her blog where you can find information about her book, <i>Survival Quest,</i> and read a portion of all of her books.: </span><a href="http://www.survivalspiritualquest.com/"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">http://www.SurvivalSpiritualQuest.com</span></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;"> or her overview
of books and photos: </span><a href="http://www.sallydemasi4.wix.com/quest"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">www.sallydemasi4.wix.com/quest</span></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">. As a creative
writer and photographer, enthusiastic sports and travel advocate, Sally challenges
you to not just exist, but to survive, find your life purpose, live with zest experiencing
an extraordinary existence. “If not challenging life, you are not engaging in
its fullness and moving forward with growth.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Contact:
Sally DeMasi, PO Box 32 – McCall, ID 83638<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="mailto:sallydemasi4@gmail.com"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">sallydemasi4@gmail.com</span></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">, </span><a href="http://www.survivalspititualquest.com/"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">http://www.SurvivalSpititualQuest.com</span></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">, </span><a href="http://www.couragequest.com/"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">http://www.couragequest.com</span></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="http://www.sallydemasi.com/"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">http://www.sallydemasi.com</span></a></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">, www.sallydemasi4.wixsite.com/quest</span></div>
SallyDeMasi - The World As I See Ithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07484163581226556024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7595230855711810668.post-55013442944101483622017-10-04T08:51:00.001-07:002017-10-04T08:55:34.485-07:00Mayor's Couageous Challenge<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">We can be fearful but
still engage in heroic acts for a cause we believe in. This is courage. The act
elevates a person in the pursuit of what is right in life and how we can
contribute.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Gisela Mota was
thirty-three, dedicated, humble and an honorable hard-working woman. Attending
protests from the age of twelve with her activist Mother, studying law at the
university she then became an idealistic politician who believed it was worth
risking her life. She accepted a political position in her home town to affect
change, despite threats. Her objective, her passion, was to clean up the town’s
corruption.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Her mother advised against
it. Committed to assuming this challenging office, she shouted at her Mom, “If
I don’t run for office, who will?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">The crime was not unusual
in this part of the world, the small state of Morelos with a population of 1.9
million. It was a small village of Pueblo Viejo located south of the Mexican
capital. It boosts a superb climate adorned by colonial cobblestone streets,
but the fourth highest murder rate for kidnappings, extortion and rape
according the NGO Citizen Council for Security and Criminal Justice. This is
where the murder of a young brave woman occurred.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">She had refused official
security upon assuming the position as mayor empathic it was a waste of the
limited public resources.</span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Her killing was just one
day upon assuming office August, 2016. It was a violent crime by those who
opposed her, the Party of the Democratic Revolution (PRD) who committed a wave
of organized crime and oppression in the cities of Mexico.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Mota was asleep when the
armed gang forced their way into her house during the early morning. Only her
mother was awake to confront seven armed and masked gun toting men that
demanded to know where the mayor was.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Family members were
dragged out of bed, forced to lie face down with guns held to their heads with
a demand to know where Mota was hiding. This was not a kidnapping as her mother
had feared. This was death as she ran into the room identifying herself and was
shot four times.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Police later killed two
who shot her and two more accomplices were arrested. The fee paid for the men
who were hired to enact this crime was a mere $29,000 for a human life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Mexican crime runs rampant
as one hundred mayors have been beaten and assassinated in Mexico. World-wide
at least ten women have been killed in revenge for a woman challenging the
male-dominated position in politics since 1984 in Iraq, Rwanda, Afghanistan,
Somalia, Bagdad, India—even Sweden, Spain and London. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">These are women with a
resilient mission to make a difference and change a course they feel is unjust,
defy corruption with a mission to light a future of personal justice in their
countries, as they risk their lives through courage.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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SallyDeMasi - The World As I See Ithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07484163581226556024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7595230855711810668.post-22736008414983972872016-12-22T17:02:00.002-08:002017-10-04T09:48:21.233-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Find the Courage to Say YES</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I got a call from Mom. Dad
had just passed six months ago and she was a three hour drive from me but
adjusting well. It is no surprise; she has that vibe, a positive spirit of just
keeping on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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My Mom and Dad were a true love story from the past. They
both went to the same church and bible school in their youth. Dad had his sights
on this darling woman for some time and eventually he got the courage to ask
her out. He didn’t actually ask her out for a date, but moving ahead slowly (not
his style), inquired if he could give her a ride home from church.<o:p></o:p></div>
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She always walked with a close girlfriend, so refused. In
the end, after weeks of negotiation—he was a very good negotiator, she was in
his convertible driving home.<o:p></o:p></div>
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They were a handsome couple, naïve—barely dating others before
their meeting. He enlisted in our military to serve during World War II. The
rest is our sibling’s good news, a marriage producing three children, each
spaced three years apart, never understanding the magic of three. <o:p></o:p></div>
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It was a good marriage shared with family, friends and
numerous celebrations, but Christmas was the ultimate in preparations and joy.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Dad moved to the other place, I believe that is heaven
for him, and Mom was now alone. She managed and actually flourished learning,
at her advanced years, to create a budget, pay bills, and do house repairs
eking out a small life for herself before the time she’d join Dad.<o:p></o:p></div>
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It wasn’t long before a man came a calling to this woman
in her late seventies. It was such a surprise<br />
<a name='more'></a> for Mom and her children! A man from the past who actually lived one
block adjacent to Mom and Dad’s home years before. What was even more
miraculous, this man’s wife and Mom were best friends before her death.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Offering his condolences, he frequently drove the three
hours to visit Mom who had moved with Dad year’s before to the mountains One
day the world exploded with the start of courting. Who courts at seventy-nine years young?<o:p></o:p></div>
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They did.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Not for long, this ensued for six months until we children
individually got the call. “Will it be acceptable if I marry your Mom? I love
her very much and will always take care of her; she will never need for
anything.” With this meaningful request, how could we say no?<o:p></o:p></div>
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The marriage was hastily planned by my brother, sister
and me from various parts of the United States scurrying about – it felt like a
shot-gun marriage with our hustle, but at their advanced age, why wait a second
more of life to go by?<o:p></o:p></div>
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Just a day before the couple arrived in Idaho from
California, my sister had secured a minister from her small town, willing on
Christmas Eve, precisely at 7:00 PM, to drive up a dark mountain and appear at
her log cabin perched on an 80 acre snow laden hilltop in the boonies. <o:p></o:p></div>
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He did, they did, marriage vows were spoken to each other
as they tightly clasped hands by candlelight, a fire in the hearth behind, children,
grandchildren and even great-grandchild on its way in a mom’s belly, completed
the I DO’s. Champagne corks flying and the feast, celebration and joy ensued.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I have always wondered how this love and union was found
and consummated at their advanced age of 80. I believe it is what courage
consists of. To step out on the abyss with wonder and hope for a good future,
abet it might be a short one, but to take a chance of what might lay
ahead—whether it be devastating or a
blessed communication of two spirts now joined as one on a path; it is a
miraculous leap of faith.<o:p></o:p></div>
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God Bless Them—they have prospered in wedded bliss for fourteen
years, much longer than what they suspected might be a few, as their love grows
daily.<br />
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<o:p></o:p></div>
SallyDeMasi - The World As I See Ithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07484163581226556024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7595230855711810668.post-22528166545985361232016-01-13T10:45:00.000-08:002016-01-13T10:54:06.853-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b>Announcing the Launch - my new book, "Survival Quest" </b></h2>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Risking – for your future.
Disaster can strike at any moment. Are you prepared physically, emotionally?
How do you face fear, mount your attack and conquer? Does the spiritual assist?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Some of these riveting ordeals
tell of a woman on a flight that crashes in the jungle and struggles for life
as beauty emerges. A man falls to earth without a parachute and battles for his
life miles away from medical assistance.
Multiple exploration parties face the Arctic's destruction of storms –
hunger – imminent death as we wonder how.
A woman in a dusty arid Israeli (Arab) town of ancient traditions
attempts to move from the past to the present struggling for her and other
female’s rights. A man confronts the torturous elements in the Sierras, alone,
in a pre-winter storm that threatens his existence as a miracle unfolds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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What actually makes the difference between some surviving
while others don’t? Turn fear, anger,
and stress into focus. My personal conclusion on this journey for answers may
surprise you. Here is a collection of unique true stories that reveal a new path<span style="color: red;"> </span>as you learn how the ordinary do the extraordinary. <span style="color: red;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: red;">T<b>his book is available on major book sites in paperback or eBook formats</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: red;"><b>(Amazon, Google Books, Kobo Books, Barnes & Noble, Createspace-eStore) </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: red;"><b>Goodreads for review</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: red;"><b>Paperback book can also be purchased from my site:</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: red;"><b>http://www.SurvivalSpiritualQuest.com</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: red;"><b>(you can request a signed book from this site)</b></span></div>
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SallyDeMasi - The World As I See Ithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07484163581226556024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7595230855711810668.post-47417224561491490422015-11-30T11:37:00.001-08:002015-11-30T11:42:50.624-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Notes on Courage – </span></b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Patsy Kelley<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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I am celebrating a happy 30<sup>th</sup> anniversary of
living in a small town, mountainous Idaho!Seems not that long ago that a friend envied my COURAGE
to leave my job, home and friends to move 2500 miles into the unknown. I did not
think of this as courageous, but adventuresome. I was excited to see, do and experience
new things. That in itself was motivating.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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However, in retrospect, I guess it was an act of courage.
Mostly, it took courage to admit to stagnation in my work an life. In the 1980’s, a
steady paycheck provided incentive to stay put in a comfortable home and job.
Divorced, I had no children or mate to limit my imagination, and even my cats had died. So
why, in my mid-forties would I not want to set out on an adventure?</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Long ago, my grandfather told me to be sure to “Go west
and see the mountains”. With a knowledge of geography and good map skills, I was
excited to follow his vision. In addition, I was tired of pushing around paper and people
for the government (it’s called Human Services burnout!). I wanted to experience new
things and felt capable of finding work to support myself. Naive? Impulsive? Irresponsible? –
or Brave and Courageous?</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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With some research, planning, saving, making arrangements
with supportive friends, I embarked on my escape from mediocrity, boredom and
security to a new life in the West. It was not without unknowns and difficulties, but
the results were energizing and very satisfying. I am glad I had faith in myself, and the
Universe, to make this adventure my new life.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Post Script</i>:
Life is too short to do the same things all the time…some of the ways I have made my living: Junior High Teacher, College Geography
Instructor, Office for Aging Planner, Office of Employment & Training
Planner/Supervisor, Amateur Photographer, Cook/Waitress/Chef-Guest Ranch/Restaurant Chef &
Manager, Watercolor Artist, Organic Market Gardner. </div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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SallyDeMasi - The World As I See Ithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07484163581226556024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7595230855711810668.post-39328233344912538792014-12-12T13:37:00.000-08:002014-12-31T11:23:21.944-08:00<br />
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: NobileRegular; font-size: 17pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt; text-transform: uppercase;">Ever
Thought of Traveling to Build Courage?</span></div>
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</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span lang="EN" style="font-family: NobileRegular; font-size: 9pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">By: Sally DeMasi<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span lang="EN" style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span lang="EN" style="font-family: NobileRegular; font-size: 9pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Thu, 12/11/2014 - 01:15· posted on SelfhelpMagazine</span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: NobileRegular; font-size: 9pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Do you feel you have the courage you need in life? Just what is
courage anyway and why might you want to engage it in all aspects of your life?
To develop courage will require facing your fears.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 13.5pt 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: NobileRegular; font-size: 9pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Courage is mental and emotional preparedness to deal with difficult
situations as a person confronts pain, fear, intimidation or physical and moral
danger. Courageous individuals are often independent, display selflessness with
integrity and honor. A courageous person also exhibits virtue, honor and
bravery.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 13.5pt 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: NobileRegular; font-size: 9pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Do you feel you have the courage you need in life? Just what is
courage anyway and why might you want to engage it in all aspects of your life?
To develop courage will require facing your fears.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 13.5pt 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: NobileRegular; font-size: 9pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Courage is mental and emotional preparedness to deal with difficult
situations as a person confronts pain, fear, intimidation or physical and moral
danger. Courageous individuals are often independent, display selflessness with
integrity and honor. A courageous person also exhibits virtue, honor and
bravery.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 18pt; margin: 0in 0in 13.5pt; mso-outline-level: 3; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: NobileRegular; letter-spacing: 0.75pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; text-transform: uppercase;">As you
acquire courage you become self-confident.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 18pt; margin: 0in 0in 13.5pt; mso-outline-level: 3; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: NobileRegular; letter-spacing: 0.75pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; text-transform: uppercase;"><em>READ THE REST OF THE ARTICLE ON sELFHELPMAGAZINE.COM</em></span></div>
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: NobileRegular; letter-spacing: 0.75pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; text-transform: uppercase;"></span> <a href="http://www.selfhelpmagazine.com/articles/traveling-build-courage#sthash.7UPl24cA.dpbs">http://www.selfhelpmagazine.com/articles/traveling-build-courage#sthash.7UPl24cA.dpbs</a><br />
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: NobileRegular; letter-spacing: 0.75pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; text-transform: uppercase;">
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</div>
</span><br />
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: NobileRegular; letter-spacing: 0.75pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; text-transform: uppercase;">About the
AuthoR</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span lang="EN" style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-family: NobileRegular; font-size: 9pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;">Sally DeMasi, author of “Courage Quest” </span><span lang="EN" style="font-family: NobileRegular; font-size: 9pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: NobileRegular; font-size: 9pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Available on major book sites – links
and other stories on: <a href="http://www.couragaequest.net/" target="_blank"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: windowtext; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">http://www.couragaequest.net</span></a>.
Also a photographer, enjoy her photos on: <a href="http://www.sallydemasi.com/" target="_blank"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: windowtext; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">http://www.sallydemasi.com</span></a>.
She lives in the Idaho mountains and takes advantage of winter sports, then
kayaks, fishes, hikes and camps summers. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: NobileRegular; font-size: 9pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">She wrote “Courage Quest “, which encompasses her growth through
backpacking solo international trips, encouraging others to uncover the
treasure courage allows.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: NobileRegular; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">- See more at:
<a href="http://www.selfhelpmagazine.com/">http://www.selfhelpmagazine.com</a> </span></div>
SallyDeMasi - The World As I See Ithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07484163581226556024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7595230855711810668.post-70286534056179402612014-02-21T15:05:00.000-08:002017-10-04T09:44:55.590-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
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Book<o:p></o:p></h2>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwLF3l-4uuf_TeFyU0Dz7BVDL8s3fZuGUwukq4jLIAtA6L19ctcI9wB3HLz7qAwkgthGEcdqbuqJIaY1s5sIR9lLCAnn_nxNerR8BlOpMUUs_AP4-XUhzAaPGax4EvKY1dk828zzJdw_Q/s1600/CourageQuest-FullWorld.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwLF3l-4uuf_TeFyU0Dz7BVDL8s3fZuGUwukq4jLIAtA6L19ctcI9wB3HLz7qAwkgthGEcdqbuqJIaY1s5sIR9lLCAnn_nxNerR8BlOpMUUs_AP4-XUhzAaPGax4EvKY1dk828zzJdw_Q/s200/CourageQuest-FullWorld.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
<div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><strong>Courage Quest</strong></i> is a compilation of adventure stories in various
parts of the world where I confronted my fears in search of courage--</span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">starting a
bit late when I was turning fifty. I traveled almost exclusively by myself with
a backpack by public transportation or walking, staying as locals do in hostels
while turning my back on millions from my career to concentrate on the search for
me.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Learn how I survived my guides washing dish technique in the
Amazon, my encounter with a shaman who cured a rusty rebar cut in the jungle
from infection and my solo walk through a drug and crime infested Athens
neighborhood.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Come share my ventures, the lessons learned, why and how we
should pursue and create new adventures in your life. You’ll improve your self-confidence
as an older woman struggling to survive mature years, as a young woman completing your rite to passage journey to womanhood learning to define yourself and maturing or as a man who just wants a bit more guts in his life as he ventures forth.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">The gift of courage added a new dimension to my life as
I uncover who I really was and what was needed to make my
life full.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">You can follow my footsteps camping on safari in Africa,
paddling down the Amazon, rafting the wild rivers of Idaho where I found all I had searched for.</span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> Courage is not necessary to live a mundane life, but it is necessary to
live</span></b></div>
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> a full one that you can be proud of.</span></span></b></div>
</div>
SallyDeMasi - The World As I See Ithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07484163581226556024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7595230855711810668.post-55677330653088492602014-02-21T15:00:00.000-08:002017-10-04T13:42:20.345-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"> </span></h2>
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</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> </b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 20pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">Courage
Quest</span></span></b><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">Is now available
for purchase as an e-Book:</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">Barnes & Noble, Amazon, Google Play, iTunes - iBookstore, Kobo, Goodreads</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">“This book may just change your life path as you learn to confront your fears through courage”</span></i></div>
</div>
SallyDeMasi - The World As I See Ithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07484163581226556024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7595230855711810668.post-73082087028651864232014-02-21T13:15:00.000-08:002017-10-04T09:50:13.711-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Braveness</span><br />
The Bravest Thing I've Ever Done<br />
<br />
by Sally DeMasi<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP7eDx-rlFfPVqu4C66prvHSJPDq3OjPE64T-vEWRJ8kIHTMh-yYHVzMcaEv7yAfhLkgL7fQEkh2xcjLfTemgdYvOoZ-q1MzmmXiohbmp_YpRZcGFUVm5vw6FOMiqpr1A3TVXvWuVjSvc/s1600/A+-+img210+tasha+%252798.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP7eDx-rlFfPVqu4C66prvHSJPDq3OjPE64T-vEWRJ8kIHTMh-yYHVzMcaEv7yAfhLkgL7fQEkh2xcjLfTemgdYvOoZ-q1MzmmXiohbmp_YpRZcGFUVm5vw6FOMiqpr1A3TVXvWuVjSvc/s1600/A+-+img210+tasha+%252798.jpg" width="247" /></a></div>
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Braveness comes in many forms. It can be a bold defiant act confronting
fear which produces courage as I have done over the last years on my world solo
adventure travels. I’ve paddled down the Amazon and the rapids of Idaho, faced
wild animals in Africa and walked the drug infested streets of Third World
Countries. But, I think what I am proudest of, was an act that to others may
seem insignificant.</div>
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It was how I choose to say goodbye to my aging dog – straight
on, not allowing someone else do the hard stuff.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Tasha was my companion for thirteen years. She had been
though the best and the worst times of that period of my life. A rescue dog, I
choose this 3 month old Lab/Rottweiler/and who knows what other lineage, because
of her story and her actions. Her mom was homeless and wandered the streets
pregnant with 12 pups, giving birth when a kind woman realized her plight and
made a comfortable birth nest for her. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I stared at the box of puppies, she was the only one with straight
hair and harassing her sleeping brothers and sisters poised on top as she nipped
each in hopes they would romp with her</div>
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.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I fell in love at that moment with an alpha puppy who curled
up on my lap as we drove home – never expecting to have adopted one that day
and no provisions to welcome her home.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">She had a definite effect on my life from the start. I did
crazy things like deciding to work less managing a part-time schedule – just to
stay home with my doggie. I declined social engagements just to hurry home to
be with her after leaving the pup for my work day. I rejected my fanatical
technical reading required to “get ahead” in my position. I even stopped all my
shopping expeditions that at one time seemed so important, to be with my Tasha.
I had found a level plane ignored in the past.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Instead, I delved into insane pursuits. I bought an old
beat-up Mazda ’84 truck. I hated trucks. It was bashed up, filthy inside and
out with paint chipping, a hole where the radio had been cut out and ignition
switch torn from the dashboard. But, I knew Tasha would grow (oh yes, to a
surprising 100 pounds) and my two seat sports car wouldn’t work much longer for
the new us.</span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">On and on…..not only did I put this truck on my credit card
when I shouldn’t have, but I started a campaign to “repair” the junk heap. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I sprayed paint on the outside with cans of enamel (tip –
that doesn’t work). I fixed the heater finding screws and spicing wires with no
idea where they might go. I cut my finger to the bone and with a 1/2” slice of open
flesh as I tried to jimmy a hydraulic hinge to open my door; I was into woman restoration.
If only my Daddy had taught his girl auto mechanics. Tasha was tied a few feet
away, interested in other things as I plunged into repair – <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">woman power!</b></span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"></b></span><br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">To my amazement she loved the old, grungy truck. She’d lie
on the seat I had layered carpet to protect her from the protruding springs.
She didn’t even try to escape when the door opened, she knew it was HERS.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">My attitude about those driving trucks shifted; I smiled now
at construction people, gardeners and those in the trades. We were one with our
dogs hanging out the windows panting.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I now saw Silicon Valley professionals as snobs. People who
wasted their lives trying to achieve things that didn’t matter – lifeless blobs
(maybe a bit obsessed– but right for this time in my life).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I took Tasha everywhere, and she patiently waited in her truck
while I stopped and did my life. It was a real contrast to her feistiness when
I previously returned after long days at work and she puppy raged for 3 hours
before finally falling exhausted asleep on my warm lap.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Looking back – it was all worth it, she my constant
supporter for years, she changed the course of my life.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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She lived through long days at my demanding jobs in the
beginning and my coming and going of boyfriends comforting me as tears flowed when
each relationship was over. She even survived our numerous camp trips, which
for some unknown reason, she hated. Possibly it was the nights in our tent at
sub-zero temps or the cries of wild animals in the black.</div>
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<br /></div>
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She saw my full emotions – crying, laughing, depression,
elation. Ever steady she held me with her mind and eyes in calm repose.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Soon I realized we needed a different environment from our
big city and moved to a small mountain town in Idaho where she could roam.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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She then had to put up with the loss of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">us</i> when I left many times for lengthy international travels but always
welcomed me home, forgiving my absence.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Aging, she could barely stand due to her increasing
dysplasia. She’d trip on her favorite red ball; fear in her eyes as she spread
eagle and was not able to get up. I’d rush to her as she rolled over and over,
in horror trying to regain her composure, then resolved, waiting for my rescue.
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I tried to make light of the situation with an upbeat tone
to reassure her and moved yet one more rug under her body for traction. She
seemed to look into my encouraging eyes, doubting, then finding hope but I knew
there was a decision to be made soon– not for me (I wanted to keep her alive as
long as possible), but what was best for Tasha. I wanted her to die with
dignity.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Toward the end, in pain, she whimpered. Her sad amber eyes
seemed to be pleading with me. She would shake, not eat and finally not drink. Her
weight had dropped 25%.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhERSY1EFe7ymsozAeHy3e2qA7ML7a78_8XU2_p-Si5E2QHM5xhz9DnncO68AxJBw_ZcQgQukyMMIY_97Ieb5vN5t-IGSSORVFXsKjhMwCN99ntPIqaFKXl1-gnOTfThkpD25NivkSitE/s1600/A-DSC_0029+Tasha,+sf+2-26-11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhERSY1EFe7ymsozAeHy3e2qA7ML7a78_8XU2_p-Si5E2QHM5xhz9DnncO68AxJBw_ZcQgQukyMMIY_97Ieb5vN5t-IGSSORVFXsKjhMwCN99ntPIqaFKXl1-gnOTfThkpD25NivkSitE/s1600/A-DSC_0029+Tasha,+sf+2-26-11.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The last three days before the veterinary appointment to end
her life, were surprising days of joy – a time of giving and receiving. I
cried, she felt. I built a home of warm glow for her, our last fires together,
a buffer against the winter chill. I gave her special treats, scraps if she’d
take a bit, laden the house with rugs, and took her on walks she loved when she
could stand for a short while. It was a very close sharing time for us. For
those days, I only stayed home to be by her side. I slept next to her on the
floor when she couldn’t stand; my body wrapped her in a cocoon of love and
warmth.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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My final decision to give her that dignity, rob her of pain
and suffering, was one that I thought she would concur. Her end was here and
now as she no longer ate or drank.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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The day I euthanized my pet, was the most difficult
challenge of my life. I had not been able to accompany my last dog, Sunshine,
into the room where she was put down for fear I might cry uncontrollably,
embarrass myself, feel too much pain. But this dog had given me so much in
life, I owed it to her to be brave and comfort her in the last moments of life.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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She was inject on a warmed fluffy blanket; two office assistants
and I talked to her in soothing tones as we petted <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>her into oblivion. She calmed down, slipped
peacefully away and I felt a woof of air escape her body that pushed my hands
upward as if symbolically telling me she was rising. It was all so peaceful,
and a surprisingly healing experience for me</div>
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.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Two nights later I felt a need to get out of bed in my
jammies and walk in the black blizzard. It was a path we’d taken when she was
able to go a bit further though the woods and trees. I talked to her on our
path one last time, told her I loved her and would now release her to go play
up in doggie heaven and chase a fox.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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It would be her time to romp forward to another world. I may
have been her guide and her enabler for that journey, but she was mine helping me
become a braver, more courageous person.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>“Courage is the act that surpasses the feeling of fear”</b><o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
SallyDeMasi - The World As I See Ithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07484163581226556024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7595230855711810668.post-60910562213981995132014-01-05T15:53:00.000-08:002017-10-04T09:50:33.099-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqCCU-x17Asg-vWTkoWNiCOSdPO25BSByUnUmh9bKI3XzejkeUr5oqAn81TN_B-VhEZcPYndmcBwH2aXkexRG2K5eJlwTozSkynzeuBofeBN2oha27CzYtE9bWP_6T22dE1YOX1lG7wrE/s1600/A-Deb+S.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqCCU-x17Asg-vWTkoWNiCOSdPO25BSByUnUmh9bKI3XzejkeUr5oqAn81TN_B-VhEZcPYndmcBwH2aXkexRG2K5eJlwTozSkynzeuBofeBN2oha27CzYtE9bWP_6T22dE1YOX1lG7wrE/s1600/A-Deb+S.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida calligraphy";"><b><br /></b></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "lucida calligraphy";">Pilgrimage – Walking El Camino de
Santiago<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "lucida calligraphy";">By Deborah Schafer<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "lucida calligraphy";">Initially
Kristen, my daughter, had asked for a book on the Camino for Christmas 2012,
and it really shocked me, because when I was her age I had read about it and
wanted to do this pilgrimage but never told anyone because it was so out of my
league. I just did not take those type of risks, going to countries that do not
speak English, hiking up and over mountains. I didn't like to get too
physical....but I sensed that this was the time. Kris could take the summer
off, and I would just retire. So at 61 I started working out for the first time
in my life. I knew I would have to leave my precious comfort zone behind, so I
promised myself I would not object to the weather. This was a big deal to me,
but as it turned out, only the beginning. I learned that I bring a lot of
resistance to most things I do. And that is the purpose in the end to taking
risks-to become vulnerable to events in a way that you find out what you are
made of. I found my precious identity beneath all that comfort zone. And I saw
into the hearts of others as they helped me, guided me, and walked with me. I
know something about myself</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"> now, and others, and I feel so much more a
participant in life </span><span style="font-family: "lucida calligraphy";">instead
of an observer. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "segoe ui" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">Subject: Camino news<br />
Date: Tue, 11 Jun 2013 11:18:34 -0500<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "segoe ui" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">Hey, are you guys
pilgrims? This was the first recognition of us as pilgrims, standing on
the train platform in Bordeaux, from a man and his family looking for their
train to Bayonne, and then to St. Jean Pied du Port. Pilgrims
themselves, from Fort Wayne, Indiana, we would meet them two more times before
beginning our journey the next day. It felt surreal being recognized as
part of this larger scheme of things, and signaled the beginning for me of this
journey. <br />
<br />
Maybe it was a good thing I did not know we would have to travel straight up a
mountain at a 45 degree angle for a day when we left St. Jean, and then travel
the following day in bitterly cold rain over the Pyrenees to Roncesvalles,
arriving late in the day so cold we could not hold the pen to sign in.
And maybe it was a good thing I did not know we would leave the next morning in
wet clothes in pouring rain to travel to Burgette, just 3 km away, where we
picked up a hotel room at the Hotel Burgette, where Hemingway used to sojourn,
and was given his room at 9:00 in the morning so we could fall into bed for the
day and recover. </span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="color: black; font-family: "segoe ui" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;"><br />
<br />
I had missed the medieval church and cloister museum in Roncesvalles, too tired
to move. I have missed most of the historic spots as we trek 7 to 9 hours
a day over mountainous terrain, and I have found out that these parts may be
nice but they don´t hold a candle to the experience of hospitality we have
received from the hostels and French and Spanish people. And no church on
the map can tell me more about love than my daughter walking backwards up the
first mountains and encouraging me by reading to me and coaxing another step
out of me, till we reached the top. And yesterday on the trail we came
across Mary, a lady in her 70s doing this pilgrimage, and she had fallen a few
times and was getting exhausted. A young Swiss man and his walking
companion from Vermont took her bag and carried it, trading off every half hour
for the next 3 hours. They had their own back pack on, and carried hers
in the front. And today, in the heat at the end of the day of reaching
Pamplona, Kris and I were lost, and looked it, sitting on a park bench.
Before long a Spanish couple (pilgrims too) and a stranger walking by got
together and figured out where we were headed and walked us to the door, at
least a 30 minute walk that certainly was not on their way. <br />
<br />
We hear stories of hospitality like this at each stop, and there is a lovely
graciousness in the pilgrims we meet, each doing this for their own
reasons. After the first hard day of climbing we were treated to a lovely
pilgrim meal at the Orrisson hostel, and I was lucky to sit with a lady from
France that is doing this for a week or two each year until done, as she has
MS. After we shared our individual reasons for embarking on this
pilgrimage, she said "You are now part of a very great
community". It brought tears to my eyes, realizing that just doing
the walk joins me to the millions of others who have taken on such an
impossible thing. The walking is hard on me, and Kris finds herself
waiting a lot so I can catch up, so she has become the photographer, the
navigator, and the interpreter, improving on her high school
Spanish. Without her as coach, expert trekker, and friend this
would be impossible, but it seems we are doing it after all. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "segoe ui" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">Subject:
Week 2 of walking<br />
Date: Wed, 19 Jun 2013 14:57:10 -0500<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "segoe ui" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">We have left the lush greenery and manicured
gardens of Navarra and entered the rough red clay region of La Rioja.
Perhaps you recognize the wine connection, and it is very real here, as we
travel through vineyard after vineyard. This area is dryer with more
gravel than large stones, but consequently we travel on paved roads or gravel
walkways and the hips and feet really know that. On both sides of our
camino are majestic mountains, and luckily, we walk the low valleys in
between. I am getting stronger, but we are both tired with long days back
to back. <br />
<br />
Yesterday we left Logrono and on the way posted another 2kg pack back
home. As soon as we left the camino path for the post office people
started calling out to us and pointing to the other direction " eh
peregrino" (pilgrim), they would call, and point back to our path-Kris
would wave her big bag and yell back "correos" (post office) and they
would nod and laugh. Construction workers, office workers on their way to
work, school children, all seemed to see us and want to make sure we not lost.
When we arrived at the post office the man at the counter took it upon
himself to save us money on the shipment and took a razor to a box to cut it
down to save freight, while the line got longer behind us. A Spanish lady
that teaches English came over to be our interpreter, and we just had to let
this fella do his thing. At last it was done, and as we were paying Kris
looked down and saw that a big puddle of red La Rioja clay water had formed
under her, her water valve had been compressed at the counter and formed quite
a little flood. We quickly wiped it up with our bandanas (always carry
one!) and made a hasty retreat, but still heard some of the folks wishing us
¨"buen camino" as we left. <br />
<br />
No one seems too busy to greet us and wish us "buen camino!".
It is a treat to be a foreigner in a country and see so much good will
towards us. Kris is experiencing a bit of difficulty as so many of the
relationships are camino relationships, short, for a conversation, an hour of
walking together, or a few days at the same pace. She hates to invest in
relationships with such short lifespan!<br />
<br />
Even though we are together we are traveling different caminos. She is
tuned in to the flowers, bugs, insects, animals and food. I seek out the
old churches, museums, monasteries, and ruins. She laughs that she is
walking a "comida de Santiago" (food to Santiago) while I am walking
the Camino de Santiago (road to Santiago). <br />
<br />
And sometimes our two caminos intersect, as in SanSol where I could walk no
further in the heat and had her find an auburge (hostel) for the night. She
found us an old family home that had been put into use as a hostel, complete
with art, furniture, crystal, and enclosed garden with a central olive tree and
other fruit trees and lilies, roses and grape vines around the perimeter.
As I looked over the garden wall I could see the sun set on Torres del Rio, and
the 11th century Templar church that I could not make it to in the heat.
It would have to wait until the morning, but it was wonderful to watch the
evening close in over those ancient buildings, and then go into one for our own
nights rest. <br />
<br />
Spain is surely a country of gardeners, everywhere are flowers and vines.
Even a bar door in Logrono is held open with a tall can of calla lilies!
They never miss a chance to perk up a room with flowers-fresh flowers in ice
cream shops, on every balcony, up the walls. Incredible. <br />
<br />
And so our days continue, 20 km (12 mile) hikes with much time to think interweaved
with conversation and many small kindnesses. What is so clear is the
absolute genuine kindness of people-it is almost transparent on the camino-from
fellow pilgrims helping one another with blisters, food needs, companionship,
to those who live in these regions, who won´t let us stray off the path, or
into a flood, or go without a cheery "buen camino" as we pass.
We walk in this wonderful experience that humans are incredibly decent and
caring, and we begin to see that in ourselves as well. I started feeling
defeated and demoralized by my meager abilities with hiking and carrying the
backpack, but I am beginning to feel the camino rub off on me, as I see myself
stronger and clearer each day, able to help others and receive help. What
a gift. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "segoe ui" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">Subject:
Camino Realizations<br />
Date: Sat, 29 Jun 2013 16:15:57 -0500<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "segoe ui" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">We have finished our third week of travel and I
am lightening my pack once again. Nothing like experience to teach the
recalcitrant; the guidebooks said only two pants and two shirts.....The days
are hot, as if summer discovered it was tardy and on the solstice rushed to
remove the 50 degree weather and replace it with 90 degree days. The
trees and night offer the only cool, or the dark interiors of the stone
buildings. Daily hand washed clothing dries in an hour, and hats and
sunglasses a must. I promised myself not to complain about weather on
this trip, or wish for something other than what I had, and it has been a nice
thing to accept reality by accepting the weather. <br />
<br />
The cumulative exhaustion and lack of personal space took its toll on me the
other day waiting in the early morning heat for a museum to open, and I found
myself unable to stop crying. I just could not fathom how I had missed
the hard physicality of this trip, with all my planning and reading. I just
wanted to kick my ass all the way to Santiago. I got so caught up in the
myth of the Camino that I failed to translate meters into feet to get
acquainted with the fact that a mountain listed as 1500 meters high is really
close to a mile high. Had I thought it through I might have changed my
choices. I could see my tendency to make everything larger than
life, and here I was, suckered by that and feeling very Paleolithic about my
next meal and bed, waiting in front of the Museum of Human
Evolution. And as the heat increased the Burgos festival began and
a mariachi band started up adding a very Felliniesque aspect to the
experience. I was laughing and crying by time the museum doors opened!
(Exceptional museum, by the way, best I have ever seen...).<br />
<br />
Later we checked in at the small hostel run by Jose Manuel. It was 38
steps up a spiral staircase above a small chapel, a tiny space, enough for
8 bunk beds with one shower and two toilets, but Jose sang a lovely Spanish
folk song to us after we checked in, complete with a flamenco flair on his
guitar work. This lovely man lives in a tiny space above this room,
serving the pilgrims with practical help and a song in his heart. As the
evening wore on more people arrived, and though full, Jose pulled two
mattresses from storage and the floor of the intake area was now part of the
hostel. Later a young man from France showed up and Jose
asked another man for his thermorest, Kris gave her blanket, and I gave
him my pillow. It seemed a little like the multiplication of the loaves
and fishes to me, a special memory of the hospitality the Camino reveals. <br />
<br />
A few days later we reached La Cruz de Ferro (the iron cross). Each day,
at the suggestion of another pilgrim, I have dedicated my walk to some
person and kept them in special regard as I walked. At the Iron Cross I
left the prayers entrusted to me, along with some of my own, and a special
tribute to my mother and mother-in-law, two women who lived deeply. It
was a satisfying moment for me to stand there, joining my prayers to those of
all the pilgrims who have done the same over the ages. I am one of many
bringing hopes and prayers to tame my fears, and it puts things in perspective
for me. A very human experience on this Way that leads me deeper
into my shared humanity. <br />
<br />
Tomorrow we cross into Galicia, but to get there we have to climb O´Cebrerio, a
very high mountain. We have learned to start early, getting up at 6am and
leaving quietly in the near dark. I have also learned to forward my pack
by taxi on the high mountains, because this is my recognition of my limitations.
It promises to be 36 degrees C tomorrow, so it will be a challenge. But I
have gotten stronger, and more realistic. It is a mountain, not a MOUNTAIN.
I can cross it. After all, I crossed the Pyrenees! Love, Debby<br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "segoe ui" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">Subject:
Santiago!<br />
Date: Thu, 11 Jul 2013 14:53:23 -0500<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "segoe ui" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">We have reached Santiago! After 34 days on the Camino we
were almost blown into town by a strong and persistent wind, as if all my
prayers for wind over the last week had been answered all at once.
Sailors and pilgrims pray for wind, it seems, both being at the mercy of the
elements, and Galicia has been experiencing a heat advisory that has had us
getting up at 5am to begin our treks to beat the heat of the day. In a
perverse turn of events, the closer one gets to Santiago the less likely a bed
for the night becomes, with more pilgrims and fewer hostels. Three nights
ago we had to go off track 2K for a 3rd floor attic room with one window and
finally, almost no sleep. Up at 5 and re-walking the 2K to get back to
the Camino and continue for the longest day of the trip, 23K. We had a
hotel room which gave us hope, but being rather rural, the next door dogs
barked all night. Up again early for the last 10K to Santiago, and
finally, there we were, in the square before the great cathedral, with other
excited pilgrims, street performers, guitars and bagpipes playing, flags flying
and a very festive feeling over the square. How to understand the end of this
when the why of it stays so elusive?<br />
<br />
We checked our bags at the pilgrim office and met our Camino friends Mehdi
and his wife Media from Iran. We had met them numerous times at hostels or
casas and shared dinner and stories. They are from Iran and work in
Norway in sustainable energy projects. They had a recommendation for
lunch from a work friend from Santiago, so we found the little bar and had a
wonderful time ordering dishes with hand gestures for crawling crabs, flapping
hands for clams and mussels, and swimming hands for fish. We got 5 dishes
to sample this way and hardly knew what we ordered, but what great food (and
tolerant waiter!)<br />
<br />
Our friends continued on to Finesterre (the end of the world in Spanish) and we
found our way to the pilgrim office to get our Compestela, the document from
the church that used to include indulgences for the pilgrimage. I will
have to have a friend translate it for me when I return to see what it really
says....then we had our visit to St. James in the Cathedral. A tiny
passage snakes up behind the giant gold stature of St. James behind the altar,
and it happened that a mass was beginning as I ascended to ¨"hug" the
apostle and whisper my requests to him, so I got to chat with St. James along
with a lovely Gregorian chant in the background. Then to the crypt below,
with a prayer before the silver reliquary holding his bones. Today a shop
keeper explained to us that each part of the ritual relates to our lives, the
sunny golden "high" and the dark "low", and that each leads
into the other. She said the Camino is the End that leads to the
Beginning, and that is the wisdom each pilgrim finds as they journey.
Ends occur, and always, a new beginning arises. <br />
<br />
What has ended for me is certain gullibility, where I thought I could find a
vibrant history alive and that I could walk in these old stories and feel their
presence. Even at the end of the trail I was rushing up Mount Gozo (Mount
Joy) like a medieval pilgrim to get my first glimpse of the Cathedral only to
find that a huge hedge of trees obstructs the view and the Cathedral no longer
dominates the sky, modern buildings hide it....Time does not like to be
restrained, things change, and the stories can never be relived. But
they can become a mythic way to a greater appreciation of the present.
And I have had my Mount of Joy, when I so clearly saw that it was in the
people on this Camino that I found my reason for traveling it. The
people of 25 countries we have met along the way, the glorious Spanish people
with their deep hospitality, the natural beauty of the country, and their
passion for their land. This was a full immersion intimate experience,
sleeping with strangers in the bed above and next to me, eating with
them, exchanging stories, and traveling along the way a bit with
them. When Dieter bid us "Buen Camino" I answered in my
rudimentary German "und sie" (and you), to which he vehemently
responded "nicht sie, ist Du in Camino!" which meant, not the
impersonal form of you, but the intimate form of you, the one used by lovers
and deep friends, which is what we are on the Camino. That is what
happened for 34 days-we found we shared a deep and common humanity that bonded
us strongly yet with absolute freedom to be who we are. I
hope I can carry this forward for my new beginning…Thank you for
participating with me in this journey through your thoughts, prayers and
emails. It has been a tremendous gift to share it with you. </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "lucida calligraphy";"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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SallyDeMasi - The World As I See Ithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07484163581226556024noreply@blogger.com0