Peredhil

Wonderful!

Happy Birthday. In my birth family, the rule was, "If you are able to vote, and don't, you can't participate in any political disussions until you've voted." I remember my sister missing voting in an election, and for four years my brothers made the most outrageous political commentary, just to watch her fume silently...

1. Noun - Coffee Pot 2. Verb (past tense) Migrated 3. Plural noun Shoes 4. Verb (past tense) Flew 5. Noun A Plumed Hat 6. Adverb Rippingly 7. Verb (past tense) Pulsed 8. Noun Silver Hair 9. Verb (past tense) Loosened 10. Unit of time Pico second 11. Verb is 12. Verb isn't 13. Noun megabyte

Sends the Reply Raven to carry eighteen hugs to Falcon. Happy Birthday!!!

sighs happily Wyvie, I don't know how you remain so creatively fresh - but I surely do appreciate it.

Hugs. You've got my emails. I can't seem to get to chat programs from where I'm accessing the internet much any more. Please stay in touch. AP-E, Peredhil

If I had a vote, I'd keep you as Loremaster. Technically, while I'm pointing out minor details... The only say in the Loremaster position is the Loremaster and the Elders... And the Elders pretty much advise. This is one thing that helps prevent the position from becoming a popularity contest, and allows the Leadership the opportunity to learn from mistakes and become better leaders - which is a nice learning feature of the Pen. This isn't to say that everyone isn't free to make all SORTS of "feedback". Just be polite and constructive. Someone has to have the final decision making ability. That the Loremaster is human and fallable is inevitable. That the Loremaster is capable of admitting that fallability and adjusting to a new future instead of clinging to pyrrhic pride, isn't inevitable and is a pleasure to see. "Two-Cents from the Muppet's Curmudgeon Old Guys Gallery" Peredhil

You had me until the third stanza - I'm not very good at hatred or anger. Welcome! In your user profile, you might want to specify the level and type of feedback you realistically want to receive. I think the descriptions of different levels are a "sticky" thread in the Banquet Hall. -Peredhil

Resting in the Paths of Time in his dreaming awake thoughts, in the way of Elves, Peredhil keeps a light touch on the party below as he meditates on the Whip of Rydia and all the spiralling implications such a gift can have. Feeling Knight, Kaityln and Ayshela, and others arrive, he realizes he should go mingle for a moment. Time attempts to gell and he slips sideways to avoid it, noting Xaious, the Dreamer, and a few others avoiding it as well. Adjust that. Xaious, as usual, is the one playing tricks. And there is fear and pain. Kaitlyn. One of the Children. Insinuating a touch of healing into the frothing sugary bubble of time, Peredhil released the warmth and reassurance through Kaitlyn and then withdrew as Xaious and Kaitlyn continued. On reflection, Xaious fit well at a Wyvern Party...

Given that Example by Argument is based on building a discussion for the base similarities between two things, while analogy consists of building a discussion from the similarity of the RELATIONSHIP of two dis-similar things (and posting on this topic is to answer the clarion call of analogy) ,this might be an apt place to point out that the feeling of being overwhelmed is analogous to the disoriented "which way is up" feeling of a person trapped in the to and fro over- and under-tow of a wave pounding at the beach. Occasionally one breaks for a breath of air, only to be sucked down into the turmoil once again. The abrasive scrape of sand gives a momentary point of reference as to what is "down" but the inner ear may deny that reference, insisting that the sand encountered is "up" in relationship to the body, and not down. The fear engendered by loosing all points of reference, of being betrayed by the senses and unsure of the reality of any input, of having no "rock" on which to cling to survive the current reality, this fear is similiar in relationship to being caught in a pounding wave at the ocean's shore - it is an analogy. The reality is that other than the relationship drawn in a person's mind, there is no realistic base similarity between the impersonal tidal/wind action of water and the complexities of a person in sensory overload. This is what prevents this from being an Example by Argument. Lost is another reference issue - since one always knows where one is, it is only the reference in *relation* to other points, whether they be physical, mental, emotional, or spiritual, it is the relationships and proportions which are defined as "lost". Thus if one defines the self as center, one is no longer lost. It is the world which must be explored and charted from the given "self" which is the challenge, not the perceptional problem of self not having a place in the world. Welcome back Salinye. You've been in my prayer. Hugs Peredhil

Elrohir gave a friendly wave to Knight and went out to look over the parking situation. Elladan, still smiling from the frogs, joined him. "Knight needs to move his starcraft," Observed Elrohir. "Poor chap. Do you feel all the power latent in the engine? Remember that Traveller universe?" Elrohir started edging back in toward the party. Elladan reached back without looking, grasped the hand limp in mounting horror, and dragging him back forward. "It will be fun!" The forces in the power cores of the mighty ship began undergoing quantum changes - without the Heisenberg uncertainty. For a brief moment of time, everything aligned and a pulse of power was released - to be intercepted and diverted, pushing and reflecting off the molten core and surrounding magnetic bubble of the planet. Not a true perpendicular force, but just ever so slightly angled so that... The great ship reared up as the earth shrugged, and settled with a jolt four feet away. Elladan sitting collapsed against the wall with Elrohir unconscious on his lap, had a brilliant smile as he pictured the surprise of the crew. His smile grew even broader as he watched the dragon's flight curve into sight from over the Pen Keep. The line dissolved into screaming panicked runners, denoting the actors and actresses hired for the line job, and the actual visitors who stood and assessed the situation calmly. He noted the beautifully skilled and controlled glide path as the dragon angled in and the lack of secondary drip when it flamed the troll guard. This was one experienced dragon. This should be FUN! Melba would want it's underwear. And with what he'd discovered about Melba's past before she arrived at the Pen, all sorts of hell was about to break loose. Hopefully. With a contented sigh, he cradled his twin and sat back to watch.

Welcome back!

I like the "confusion" in the contrast between frozen and burns in the first stanza. While your poem effectively uses repetition (I'm cold) to build to a climax (I am dead) if you can think of combining more contrasts you might heighten the affect on the reader. Maybe something like:? I'm cold Motions of life. But I am dead.

A Cherokee Indian chief had three wives, each of whom was pregnant. The first squaw gave birth to a boy, and the chief was so elated he built her a teepee made of buffalo hide. A few days later, the second squaw gave birth, and also had a boy. The chief was extremely happy; he built her a teepee made of antelope hide. The third squaw gave birth a few days later, but the chief kept the birth details a secret. He built the woman a teepee out of hippopotamus hide, and challenged the people in the tribe to guess the most recent birth details, the correct guesser receiving a fine prize. Several of his people tried, but were unsuccessful in their guesses. Finally, a young brave came forth and declared that the third wife had delivered twin boys. "Correct"!, cried the chief. "How did you know"? "It's simple", replied the warrior. "The sons of the squaws of the two hides is equal to the squaw of the hippopotamus." ~~~ During the great Australian tea famine, a small town called Mercy developed a tea made from koala bears. It became a great hit and was famous all across the continent. One day a man was down from Sydney and decided to try a cup of this famous beverage. When it came he was disgusted to find bits of fur and flesh floating in it. He asked the waiter if they couldn't somehow filter it. The waiter replied,"The koala tea of Mercy is not strained".

Prolly feels that way, doesn't it? 20/8/02 ntraveler2 But the following are all still Initiates. 14/7/02 Thomas the Lost 7/7/02 Xelnaga The First 13/1/02 DoPeY 8/12/01 Andrea Hawk Some are pretty inactive - but I see the DoPeStEr on IRC and he's posted around here, and the others as well. As you read through the threads in the areas now open to your eyes, you'll note the constant debates and discussions on What ranks? How often? What standards? etc. I urge you to thoughtfully discuss the issues (and not the people!), and when you achieve voting status to exercise your vote whenever you can. Welcome to Page. -Peredhil

The Reader's Digest version for the ADHD generation... Impartially, it should sell well - there are Pen members who find multi-paragraph posts too daunting to read before replying, I'd imagine Homer is just another Simpson to the general populace. Is not really surprised or shocked.

Welcome back! I kept getting mind-picture flashes of all those toys with whom I spent endless hours playing in the days before constant television and computers. Wonder what happened to them all...

My family has a tradition that when someone dies, instead of mourning and feeling sorry for ourselves, we gather and present memories and pictures to cherish the life they've lived. These are usually gathered together after the funeral and made into scrap-books to be given to the immediate family - spouse, children - so that they can in turn pass the books on to their children and help to keep the person from just becoming a name to later generations. Works for us. Anyway, a couple of years ago, my brother-in-law died, and as I was unable to attend the funeral, I sent this memory in my stead. I'm told that my Mom laughed and cried, but then, she does both pretty easily. Recording here so another computer crash doesn't prompt me to herculean efforts to retrieve it again. -P Memories of David I suppose that considering the end, it is useful to go back to the beginning. I first met David when I was in the height of my brooding snotty teen-age stage. (Contrary to popular belief, I HAVE passed out of this. I am now a brooding snotty adult; thank you so very much!) Anyway… It was a bright sunny day, the valley was clothed in greens and browns, the river was a dark blue-grey, and I was wallowing in wishing it were raining. Penny wanted me to meet this Wonderful, Smart, Hard-Working, Funny Man. Sounded like Grandpa Arave come again. So all the way out to Asotin, a place I didn’t know and didn’t want to know, Penny was so positively giddy, so positively gushing that I was positive I’d be ill. So we pull up and there were these guys working on a BIG truck. I must digress here. I am automotively challenged. No further than that, I am petroleum challenged. If it has grease or oil, gasoline or kerosene, I don’t like it, I don’t understand it, and I approach it with fear and loathing. Ask Dad about lawn mowers and me sometime. So here are these guys working on this truck. There are wrenches and hammers and tools and jacks and other mysterious implements of destruction scattered about, and they even had the hood of the monster tipped forward, it’s poor suffering engine laid naked for the world to see. Icky. Around the truck comes this fellow with reddish hair, reddish beard, not too tall, but not short, with a big crooked smile. He greeted Penny as he finished wiping his hands carefully on a rag and held out one hand to shake. A hand with calluses. A hand with every pink ridge and whorl highlit by the blackened oils of labor ground in over time. “Your hand is dirty,” I pointed out in a calm whine, “I don’t like to get mine dirty.” A telling blow! I was used to being Penny’s darling little brother (a blind spot of hers); a personage to be wooed by her wanna-be boyfriends. At my words, Penny rolled her eyes as if to say, “He’s not that bad, you know how teens can be.” A conspiratorial look that urged Dave to ignore my behavior. I stood smugly waiting for this moment to pass, position established, so that I could move on to being nice and clever – if I wanted to be. After all, this man worked with trucks, could he appreciate my full fifteen years of cleverness and wit? David looked at me from my long soft hair down to my soft white hands, bounced his gaze off my huarachis and back up again. My nasty smile slipped a little. Then without raising the volume of his voice, (but oh the intensity!) He proceeded to deliver a blistering speech about the type of labor it took to produce hands like his. He waxed eloquent in lyrically harsh words about the type of parasite that lived off men who worked. He continued about the difference between those that stood around and commented on things about which they knew nothing. He segued into the patriotism of men that built the county and made it a land where children like me could live free to wallow in contempt. He summed up with the amount of feeling he had for Penny that would provoke him to make an extra effort to get his hands clean so that he could come over and shake hands with a Little Brother. He concluded with the statement that I would shake his hand or never set foot on the property of this working man. This was not what I’d expected. Kinda took me right out of the wonderful melancholy mood I’d been working and set me back on my heels. This was NOT a boyfriend; this was a man with which to be reckoned. So I shook his hand. His hand was warm and rough. His grip was strong with the feeling of immense power in reserve – he obviously could have crushed my hand if he’d chose and he and I both knew it. But he didn’t, he just shook firmly once. I withdrew my hand from his and found that he was right. None of the stains had made their way to mine. Some things don’t transfer that easily. Then he kicked me off his property. Yep. Told me I could wait in the car until I was ready to act my age. I sat fuming in the car, expecting Penny to work her gentle peacemaking magic on him, expecting him to come out and relent and invite me inside. It only took me half-an-hour to realize that not only was this man not going to relent, he wasn’t going to let Penny relent or apologize for him. Worse, from the sounds of laughter and the occasional fragments of sound I could hear, he was keeping Penny so entertained that she didn’t really miss me. So I pushed my hair off my face, pulled on my best manners and carefully walked up and knocked on the door. Dave opened it and held out his hand. We shook hands; I reintroduced myself and was invited in to have a wonderful time. It is typical of David that he never mentioned it again, never held it against me, and never let anyone else who’d witnessed the entire thing hold my stupidity against me. Lesson taught, lesson learned, move on. That was David. Unrelenting as an Old Testament prophet when he was right; forgiving and loving when you finally realized and acknowledged he was right. He made a habit of not being wrong. Merry as a child, gleefully wicked in pricking pompous balloons. I’m sure someone else will mention him catching Wild Rainer Beers. Or speak on him sitting atop the Lewiston Hill pumping up the power on his CB radio to the point that when he keyed his mike and said, “This is God speaking,” he overrode everyone else in the entire valley and they couldn’t get talk until he let them. He was solemn and wise in giving advice, cutting straight to the point and right to the heart of the matter. He wasn’t offended if you didn’t take his advice either. But he wouldn’t put up with further whines or complaints. And when the consequences of your choices hit, he wouldn’t say ‘I told you so’ (much), but was there to help you pick yourself up. A truck driving man, a Man of God, a stern, tender, strong, loving man. A good friend and better brother. A man of vision, who knew not only how to set a goal, but how to plan to get there. He also could make the journey, the type of man who could take others with him on his struggle for excellence. He always appreciated an audience. The life of a man might be judged by the quality of his children. Look at his children. That a strong man could raise children strong enough to argue with him, strong enough to not only lead, but follow, strong enough to be adults on their own, that is a tribute. As iron sharpens iron, a friend sharpens a friend. Think of it from the iron’s point of view. A good edge requires something strong to sharpen against. It requires a force and pressure to push them together. It requires the perfect balance of friction and oil – all done with the correct angle. Dave was a whetstone who by his example demanded a fine edge from others. He sure straightened out a few nicks in me! And finally David was a Storyteller who didn’t let facts get in the way of the Truth. So he’d appreciate this memory of our first meeting. I may have embellished the adjectives, but the truth is as presented. I miss him already, and look forward to seeing him standing with Christ to greet us – hopefully soon.

Gratz Alaeha.

Politely waits until Ayshela finishes pouncing Justin. Helps him up, brushes him off. * *POUNCE* * *Hug* We've missed you!

Depends on what you drink... Neither my water or my Mountain Dew give me hangovers...

Here're wishes the next 21 years find you living an abundant joy-filled life. Hugs

Sneaks in long enough to read the foundations laid and hug a 'welcome back after such a long while!' hug

When I first saw Troy, he was a little stinker. This didn't change much as he grew; his peculiar sense of "practical jokes" was causing injuries before he could talk, although he definitely was mobile. Soon he graduated into - Guido whispers nervously into Peredhil's ear. Movie? What movie? Whisper whisper whisper Oh. Turning to face everyone, cheeks slightly pink, he concludes, Never mind...

Wow was I blessed. I only had one poor teacher of all my teachers and principals up until colleges. I didn't realize just how good some of them were (and how patient they'd been!) until much later - often when I found myself quoting them to other people as advice.