<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557</id><updated>2012-02-16T16:46:26.648-08:00</updated><category term='what I miss'/><category term='Mr. Papa'/><category term='cancer'/><category term='dreams'/><category term='RV9'/><category term='Take Your Art to the World blog'/><category term='hope and light'/><category term='itafari'/><category term='dead rita'/><category term='success'/><category term='feed or starve'/><category term='choices'/><category term='tokyo sex phone operator'/><category term='Clinton'/><category term='experts'/><category term='fitness'/><category term='A Must Read Book Club'/><title type='text'>Dead Rita's Wisdom</title><subtitle type='html'>Go ahead - believe those you've lost don't continue to bring you wisdom - as Dead Rita would say, "you're wrong!"  Or buy the book - Dead Rita's Wisdom.  coming soon to an Amazon website near you.  http://DeadRitasWisdom.com</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>58</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-3142044986972305464</id><published>2009-09-17T19:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T19:26:47.978-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Build a School in Rwanda</title><content type='html'>Check out this SlideShare Presentation: &lt;div style="width:425px;text-align:left" id="__ss_2008961"&gt;&lt;a style="font:14px Helvetica,Arial,Sans-serif;display:block;margin:12px 0 3px 0;text-decoration:underline;" href="http://www.slideshare.net/vhtrabosh/build-a-school-in-rwanda" title="Build a School in Rwanda"&gt;Build a School in Rwanda&lt;/a&gt;&lt;object style="margin:0px" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://static.slidesharecdn.com/swf/ssplayer2.swf?doc=itafarisept2009virtualfundraiser-090916175835-phpapp01&amp;stripped_title=build-a-school-in-rwanda" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"/&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"/&gt;&lt;embed src="http://static.slidesharecdn.com/swf/ssplayer2.swf?doc=itafarisept2009virtualfundraiser-090916175835-phpapp01&amp;stripped_title=build-a-school-in-rwanda" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div style="font-size:11px;font-family:tahoma,arial;height:26px;padding-top:2px;"&gt;View more &lt;a style="text-decoration:underline;" href="http://www.slideshare.net/"&gt;presentations&lt;/a&gt; from &lt;a style="text-decoration:underline;" href="http://www.slideshare.net/vhtrabosh"&gt;Victoria Trabosh&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-3142044986972305464?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/3142044986972305464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=3142044986972305464' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/3142044986972305464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/3142044986972305464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2009/09/build-school-in-rwanda.html' title='Build a School in Rwanda'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-4275631964825324667</id><published>2009-04-24T12:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T12:29:21.133-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FOLLOW MY BLOG TO ITS RIGHTFUL HOME!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SfISemoYtKI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/RA39K1wlEK8/s1600-h/iStock_000001769021XSmall%283%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 230px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SfISemoYtKI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/RA39K1wlEK8/s320/iStock_000001769021XSmall%283%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328341626108032162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm moving my blog to my website:  please click here for all the latest blogs:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://victoriatrabosh.com/blog"&gt;http://VictoriaTrabosh.com/blog &lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-4275631964825324667?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/4275631964825324667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=4275631964825324667' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/4275631964825324667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/4275631964825324667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2009/04/follow-my-blog-to-its-rightful-home.html' title='FOLLOW MY BLOG TO ITS RIGHTFUL HOME!'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SfISemoYtKI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/RA39K1wlEK8/s72-c/iStock_000001769021XSmall%283%29.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-959777371351486453</id><published>2009-04-24T11:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T11:29:25.648-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fasting for Darfur</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SfIE-a7_X8I/AAAAAAAAAMI/skLJfFb2C1g/s1600-h/Save+Darfur.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 87px; height: 107px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SfIE-a7_X8I/AAAAAAAAAMI/skLJfFb2C1g/s320/Save+Darfur.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328326779562057666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;p&gt;In my work in Rwanda one the most devastating issues is ignorance.  Not of the Rwandan people, but of the world and its view of what is going on in East/Central Africa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I go to Rwanda because this country chooses not to be identified by its genocide but by the strength and resilience of its people.  The foundation I co-founded, Itafari &lt;a href="http://itafari.org/"&gt;http://itafari.org&lt;/a&gt; focuses on partnerships with local Rwandan organizations that have hopes and dreams for themselves and their people.  What better way to make a difference than to work with those in country who are transparent, ethical and passionate.  It is good work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But there is a grave issue that is &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;not changing&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; just north of Rwanda.  A personal concern of mine has been Darfur in western Sudan and the genocide and atrocities taking place in that country.  The world must not turn its back.  This is not an African problem, but a human right's atrocity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mia Farrow &lt;a href="http://miafarrow.org/"&gt;http://MiaFarrow.org&lt;/a&gt; has been an outspoken advocate for ending the violence and atrocities committed against women, children and all people in the Darfur region.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Prior to the Beijing Olympics, she tried to call attention to the part China was playing in the genocide through their support of weapons to the janjaweed (the Rwandan equivalent of the 1994 genocidaires).  She called it the Genocide Olympics.  If you find that deeply offensive, you've not seen the results of a genocide to the survivors, the families, the victims.  It is indescribable the pain they bear.  And often because the world chooses to turn its back.  Politics appeared to eclipse human rights issues and again:  Darfur was ignored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Farrow's latest action is to fast for 21 days beginning April 27&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt;.  I have decided to fast as well.  So join me, support me through messages and learn why increased action is necessary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Do you think 21 days sounds like a long time?  It's not, because in 21 days the fast will be over.  If we don't do something to support the victims of Darfur, it will be another 21 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The Darfur Genocide:  A Present Reality  &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hXdWDM4fmRY&amp;amp;NR=1"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hXdWDM4fmRY&amp;amp;NR=1&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A Ten Minute Overview of the conflict in Sudan:  &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=USLDoIiFzzg&amp;amp;NR=1"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=USLDoIiFzzg&amp;amp;NR=1&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://savedarfur.org/"&gt;http://savedarfur.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;"&gt;We can do more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-959777371351486453?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/959777371351486453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=959777371351486453' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/959777371351486453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/959777371351486453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2009/04/fasting-for-darfur.html' title='Fasting for Darfur'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SfIE-a7_X8I/AAAAAAAAAMI/skLJfFb2C1g/s72-c/Save+Darfur.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-1861189258518111172</id><published>2009-04-11T17:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T17:49:35.909-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life’s Journey</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SeE6VUSdeQI/AAAAAAAAAMA/Uba_AK6KDBQ/s1600-h/Hope.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SeE6VUSdeQI/AAAAAAAAAMA/Uba_AK6KDBQ/s320/Hope.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323600372426438914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;31 years ago my only goal was to be on the cover of Time Magazine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;16 years ago I was in Russia working with business leaders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;11 years ago Dead Rita was not dead, but was dying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;5  years ago I didn't know the story of Rwanda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;1  year   ago there was no global thought that the world's economy was going to seriously tank.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;And none of those things did I anticipate before they happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And so this is what I know:  I know nothing for sure.  But every action, every reaction, is a choice to what lies in front of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;There are great victories going on in the world.  There is tremendous human tragedy.  But if we choose, if I choose, I will honor those and myself more by my action than my mere grief.  I am comfortable in the belief that there is no parallel universe.  No other path for me.  No what ifs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I think some of my belief system and general optimism is personality.  But I strive to see a greater purpose in all of this.  To learn, to grow, to have patience with myself and others, to laugh hard, to love, and to not fear the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Faith in God plays a key role in my ability to be stable in an unstable world.  I frankly don't know how people manage life without a belief in a higher power.  And if they don't, it's ok.  I'm serious though, I don't know how they do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Some of this entry comes from the toughness I face in the world.  But some of it is because tomorrow is Easter.  For me, it is the most glorious of holidays.  It is my hope of God's grace.  And if He is there, I can do my part here.  And I have no idea what that will be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Happy Easter.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-1861189258518111172?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/1861189258518111172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=1861189258518111172' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/1861189258518111172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/1861189258518111172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2009/04/lifes-journey.html' title='Life’s Journey'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SeE6VUSdeQI/AAAAAAAAAMA/Uba_AK6KDBQ/s72-c/Hope.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-6192933247078875942</id><published>2009-02-07T19:03:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T19:03:01.518-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Takes One to Know One</title><content type='html'>&lt;span xmlns=''&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dead Rita's Wisdom is done.  But my daughter in law just reminded me of a chapter I forgot.  And it's about an expression Dead Rita used all the time.  Whenever I said something to her about what I saw in her, she would say, "takes one to know one!"  whether it was a positive comment on my part or not.  SHE KNEW THE  SECRET LONG BEFORE IT WAS THE SECRET!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So much is going on in the world.  And so much is out of our control.  I swear we must learn to hold on to what we know.  And not forget that.  And I often do.  Not for long, but long enough to probably build up some plaque in my arteries.  Just long enough for it to be a useless or worse, harmful exercise.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Surround yourself with people who demand the best from you.  I was telling a friend that I have very few friends who have gotten divorced since I've been married for 27 years.  (more family comes to mind than anything).  But we were told 27 years ago by an Episcopal priest to surround ourselves with couples intent on being married.  And not those who would give up at the first sign of trouble.  And there's plenty of trouble in a marriage – I can attest to that.  But by surrounding ourselves with couples who believe in strong relationships we have had that support and example for ourselves.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And dear Laura reminded me of this when I reminded her of how beautiful a spirit she has.  And she said, "takes on to know one".  How easy to reflect something when you know what it looks like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sign up to receive notice when the book comes out – it's going to be good.  &lt;a href='http://deadritaswisdom.com'&gt;&lt;span style='color:#7030a0'&gt;http://deadritaswisdom.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;			&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-6192933247078875942?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/6192933247078875942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=6192933247078875942' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/6192933247078875942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/6192933247078875942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2009/02/takes-one-to-know-one.html' title='Takes One to Know One'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-7537816960424544735</id><published>2008-12-03T14:58:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T15:14:15.937-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Dearest Dead Rita</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/STcSl_E14lI/AAAAAAAAALM/l8a68ZGskt8/s1600-h/Mom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275705932284027474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 197px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 132px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/STcSl_E14lI/AAAAAAAAALM/l8a68ZGskt8/s320/Mom.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;She would have been 77 today. It's impossible to believe she's been gone 10 years. Right now 'You raise me up' is playing. That was what she did for me and those she loved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;But the song that best describes her is Bette Midler's 'The Wind Beneath My Wings'. When that song first came out, I gave it to her on a little cassette. I stood there just in awe that she would play a song that perfectly described who she was to me. While it might have been named Song of the Year in 1990, it was the song of my greatest love, my Mom. Wherever Bette Midler is at this moment, may she continue to sing songs that bring such love and meaning to others. Also, I'd like her to read Dead Rita's Wisdom. It's perfect for her – outrageous, funny, heartfelt and wise. Like I see Bette Midler. So if you know her, please make an introduction for me. And I just looked up her BD on IMDb. December 1. Frankly, if her BD had been the same as Mom's, I wouldn't have been able to handle it. But it's nice and close!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Here are words that to this day make me cry when I hear them:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:black;"&gt;It must have been cold there in my shadow,&lt;br /&gt;to never have sunlight on your face.&lt;br /&gt;You were content to let me shine, that's your way,&lt;br /&gt;you always walked a step behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:black;"&gt;So I was the one with all the glory,&lt;br /&gt;while you were the one with all the strength.&lt;br /&gt;A beautiful face without a name -- for so long,&lt;br /&gt;a beautiful smile to hide the pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:black;"&gt;CHORUS:&lt;br /&gt;Did you ever know that you're my hero,&lt;br /&gt;and ev'rything I would like to be?&lt;br /&gt;I can fly higher than an eagle,&lt;br /&gt;'cause you are the wind beneath my wings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:black;"&gt;It might have appeared to go unnoticed,&lt;br /&gt;but I've got it all here in my heart.&lt;br /&gt;I want you to know I know the truth, of course I know it,&lt;br /&gt;I would be nothing without you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:black;"&gt;(CHORUS)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:black;"&gt;Fly, fly, fly away,&lt;br /&gt;you let me fly so high.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, fly, fly,&lt;br /&gt;so high against the sky, so high I almost touch the sky.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, thank you, thank God for you,&lt;br /&gt;the wind beneath my wings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:black;"&gt;Happy Birthday Mom – how I wish you were here so that I could make you a pineapple upside down cake and you could eat all the pineapple off the top. Loved it when you did that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-7537816960424544735?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/7537816960424544735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=7537816960424544735' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/7537816960424544735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/7537816960424544735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/12/happy-birthday-dearest-dead-rita.html' title='Happy Birthday Dearest Dead Rita'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/STcSl_E14lI/AAAAAAAAALM/l8a68ZGskt8/s72-c/Mom.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-2907358566170009257</id><published>2008-12-02T10:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T10:53:28.058-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A thought of how we end 2008</title><content type='html'>Click to read a little Dead Rita Wisdom and some other thoughts.  This was sent to clients and friends and it's truly for anyone looking for a way through this time.   &lt;a href="http://hosted.verticalresponse.com/145404/1e87a16770/55001020/2e3df95273/"&gt;A thought of how we end 2008&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-2907358566170009257?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/2907358566170009257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=2907358566170009257' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/2907358566170009257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/2907358566170009257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/12/thought-of-how-we-end-2008.html' title='A thought of how we end 2008'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-631144889409693022</id><published>2008-11-24T19:44:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T19:54:34.037-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dead rita'/><title type='text'>I wish I could see what you see</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SSt266cuBWI/AAAAAAAAALE/OgXVZVsd_lE/s1600-h/eyeglasses.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272438543261500770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 202px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SSt266cuBWI/AAAAAAAAALE/OgXVZVsd_lE/s320/eyeglasses.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;It was always one of the things about Dead Rita that was so frustrating. She couldn't see herself clearly. She couldn't see the beauty, the wisdom, the strength that those of us who knew her saw in her. And when I would spend hours talking with her about who she was, and that she could do anything, she'd look at me and sadly say, "I wish I could see myself the way you see me. But I don't."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I thought I had that one under control. That I saw myself clearly. But in the last few days, and especially today, I realized, I don't. I am truly not believing what is possible – or what I've accomplished. And it's a shame. Because too much time is spent trying to overcome my OWN objections. Really frustrated, I decided to blog about this and then I thought about turning to a chapter in Dead Rita's Wisdom for some….wisdom! And the following is an excerpt of what I found just now that I had previously written in a moment of clarity in the Chapter titled "Yes, but":&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;After she died, I received a wonderful gift from her. I believe it is the last piece of wisdom I ever heard in her voice. It was in 2003, I was at a coaching retreat and had come to some realizations about who I truly was and what I could bring to the world. And it wasn't grand or grandiose, but it was life changing and very grounding for me. Knowledge brings peace – there was no euphoria, just a settling in my soul who I was. And as I sat journaling in this last day of the retreat, I was filled with a serenity and then I heard Dead Rita say to me, "Vic, you have just learned what I never knew: you have learned who you are and now no one will have to spend their lifetime trying to show you that – and no one will have the responsibility as you felt for me to try and get them to see their own innate skills and gifts."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;If Dead Rita's Wisdom never hits the shelves, I'm good because it's real wisdom and it will used to help those who can benefit from it through me. (But I'm seriously up for a monster book tour!)&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I forgot what I know. I have to reflect and remember and see myself as others see me. Not for better or worse (the way I usually head), but actually as who I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;In my fears and frustration today, I continue to faithfully ask for signs and support. And they come not from an apparition of Dead Rita, but in the form of profound conversations – and wonderful friends, old and new, who touched my life today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;And I am truly thankful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-631144889409693022?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/631144889409693022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=631144889409693022' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/631144889409693022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/631144889409693022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-wish-i-could-see-what-you-see.html' title='I wish I could see what you see'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SSt266cuBWI/AAAAAAAAALE/OgXVZVsd_lE/s72-c/eyeglasses.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-7259834654490590012</id><published>2008-11-08T17:46:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T17:58:45.944-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Well said</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SRZDVKf_t2I/AAAAAAAAAJc/9eNkmyMOb30/s1600-h/Hope.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266470845131241314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SRZDVKf_t2I/AAAAAAAAAJc/9eNkmyMOb30/s320/Hope.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;So I'm a little late posting my joy at our new President Elect. But after YEARS of pain, a few days is nothing. Last night we had an event for Itafari at the Hyatt in Bellevue WA. The students of Prof. John Bacon's marketing glass had a pay it forward for our organization….they KICKED it !! Over $21,000 raised with FEW expenses. Amazing. They named their organization IGNITE and they certainly did. There was a great mood in the room last night – an aura of hope. Something will change in this country and I'm happy to be watching it and play any part I can in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;So here are my thoughts about our new President Elect. And they're not my thoughts but a dear friend who said it as well as I've heard. &lt;strong&gt;Julie Bonaduce – fabulous woman, tremendous friend, and creative as all GET OUT! Her are her words:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;What a miraculous time to be alive.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;The last 8 years have been an exercise in despair for me, and I allowed it harden into a nasty shell. But at the Democratic National Convention in 2004, the crust cracked. Just a little, but it cracked. The next day I got online and gave $100 to a freshman senator from Illinois. In the comments section of the contribution form, I did nothing short of beg him to be my president. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Obviously I don't take credit for his decision to run. In fact, I was certain his webmaster would find it odd - some loony chick in Oregon sending a hundred bucks to a practically unknown senator half a country away. But maybe there were a lot of us loonies online that day. And on a chilly February morning in Springfield, maybe there were even more of us who decided to take an active role in a political campaign for the first time in our lives. And perhaps there were still more of us who had been dealing with despair for a hellava lot longer than eight years, and who finally decided it was time to fulfill the Dream.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I can hardly wrap my head around the joy and pride that I feel. I'm happy to call myself an American again, but also feel a little ashamed for having let one man's politics of fear take that away from me. So thank you, America, for showing what you're really made of. And thank you to those of you on the other side with the grace and willingness to participate in the miracle, even if you don't necessarily agree with the politics of it. And to those of you who are angry and dealing with your own despair now, I understand. I genuinely hope that we can make it up to you, and maybe even win back a little of your confidence in the system by showing that this way can work, too. You might even find we can be better and stronger for it.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I'm proud to be an American. Not in that loud, strident country song kind of way. It's a deep, abidingly peaceful way that leads by example. I'm proud to be an American that will again be compassionate and trustworthy and willing to listen, particularly to those with whom we disagree. And I'm VERY proud to be an American that finally and truly begins to live the values set down in our constitution. Ya know, that little snippet about all men being created equal. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;This is a good day. I hope we remember and continue to live up to it every subsequent day of our lives.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-7259834654490590012?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/7259834654490590012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=7259834654490590012' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/7259834654490590012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/7259834654490590012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/11/well-said.html' title='Well said'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SRZDVKf_t2I/AAAAAAAAAJc/9eNkmyMOb30/s72-c/Hope.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-4192913098700571690</id><published>2008-10-25T17:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-25T17:26:02.411-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Darkest before the Dawn</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SQO5Dao4AYI/AAAAAAAAAJU/3_GvbE2C5bM/s1600-h/Darkest+before+the+dawn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261252258040381826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 319px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SQO5Dao4AYI/AAAAAAAAAJU/3_GvbE2C5bM/s320/Darkest+before+the+dawn.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Twice I watched my parents file bankruptcy. It was brutal for Dead Rita. Not so much for Mr. Papa. He lived as if everything would take care of itself. Was a huge risk taker and didn't plan for the future. He sold insurance and ironically bought none for Dead Rita so that when she had cancer, she had no insurance. For her, there was so much shame at failure. For him, more of a defiance. He was the fighter. I did love that about him. But it cost them everything as a couple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I always believed as I watched Dead Rita suffer, that her priorities were not quite in place. But her reaction came from a life of embarrassment and fear. And so to lose everything was … everything. My perspective is different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am so thankful I was in Rwanda this last month. Even the bit of news I saw on the BBC or CNN when it came through on my TV, was difficult. I could get the news on my laptop, but was too busy to follow the day to day ups and downs. We have tried to protect our assets as much as possible but are also deeply affected by the worldwide financial crisis. Not easy, but not everything as it was to Dead Rita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have been given a perspective that is not unique, but certainly not common. It is not all about the bankruptcy of the material – it is so much more so about the bankruptcy of the spirit. And that of course is not lost. While Rwanda is a place of incredible growth and healing, it is also a place of loss and pain. The deaths of over one million people have brought suffering on the millions left behind. True loss. True hopelessness. With no chance to recovery – just the prayer of healing the loss. And to see that first hand reminds me of what is important and true and worth suffering for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Whenever I get overwhelmed thinking about our financial future, a different future than I imagined just a month ago, I remember. We are not bankrupt. Of the financial and certainly not of the spirit. I control only ONE thing: my reaction to the present. And dear Dead Rita's Wisdom comes to mind: it's always darkest before the dawn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;It is darker in the world than it has been in a long time. We must remember the dawn is coming. And while life is changing, we have so much to be thankful for. I cannot tell you how remembering those words, which while not original to her, but coming from her, comfort me. Remember the wisdom from those you love or have lost, and be comforted.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-4192913098700571690?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/4192913098700571690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=4192913098700571690' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/4192913098700571690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/4192913098700571690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/10/darkest-before-dawn.html' title='Darkest before the Dawn'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SQO5Dao4AYI/AAAAAAAAAJU/3_GvbE2C5bM/s72-c/Darkest+before+the+dawn.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-4622907333169646301</id><published>2008-10-24T06:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T06:16:06.581-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='A Must Read Book Club'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dead rita'/><title type='text'>A Must Read (AMR) Always ahead of her time</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SQHJ0iDRZyI/AAAAAAAAAJM/pHwXWNSztXE/s1600-h/DRW+Art+Bird+1+closeup.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260707744076359458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SQHJ0iDRZyI/AAAAAAAAAJM/pHwXWNSztXE/s320/DRW+Art+Bird+1+closeup.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;IMAGE SHOWN IS THE FIRST BIRD DEAD RITA EVER DREW FOR ME....HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE BLOG! :) &lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dead Rita was always ahead of her time. No really. She would get an amazing idea and then NOT act on it due to fear or insecurity or lack of faith in herself. And then six months to a year after she realized or created something, it would hit BIG. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When she retired from her work, she didn't know what she wanted to do but she wanted to create. She had very little money and had started doing these amazing shadow boxes that looked like real scenes. What she couldn't buy in miniature, she made. Like tiny blocks, or crocheted a little rug. Amazing. When she told me about them, she was sure she could sell them for a couple of hundred dollars a piece. And I knew she could. They were exquisite. John and I decided to seed her with the cash. A modest $500. I thought she would pee her pants she was so excited. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;She created about 10 scenes and took them to a high end craft show in Ft. Wayne. I knew they would sell out. She was terrified to show them and get feedback. Mr. Papa went with her – the ultimate salesman/carny hawker. EVERYONE stopped to admire them. Few were purchased. A little out of range of Ft. Wayne Christmas shoppers. She was crushed. About 2 years later, I saw the same idea (nowhere near as exquisite) in a high end gift shop. Dead Rita was with me and we just shook our heads. &lt;em&gt;That happened all the time!&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It reminds me of this book I just read that you should read: &lt;strong&gt;A Whole New Mind: Why Right-Brainers Will Rule the Future by Daniel H. Pink. &lt;/strong&gt;This book was published 3 years ago but it was new to me. It's a fascinating discussion of the shift our world is making to honor the right side of our brain. The creativity; the uniqueness that is in each of us; the freedom we gain when not constrained by anything other than our senses (as defined by Pink: DESIGN, STORY, SYMPHONY, EMPATHY, PLAY, MEANING). &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WhKLSTBSgwI"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WhKLSTBSgwI&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This book was Dead Rita – operating fully with BOTH sides of her brain – the accountant/artist….cerebral/verbal….intellectual/practical. Her wisdom for me continues to be magnificent. And when I finish my book proposal, it will be for you too! &lt;span style="font-family:Wingdings;"&gt;J&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-4622907333169646301?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/4622907333169646301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=4622907333169646301' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/4622907333169646301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/4622907333169646301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/10/must-read-amr-always-ahead-of-her-time.html' title='A Must Read (AMR) Always ahead of her time'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SQHJ0iDRZyI/AAAAAAAAAJM/pHwXWNSztXE/s72-c/DRW+Art+Bird+1+closeup.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-35791040454886258</id><published>2008-10-03T23:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T23:36:33.708-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='itafari'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dead rita'/><title type='text'>10 Years Later</title><content type='html'>I'm in Rwanda through 22 October working on behalf of the Itafari Foundation.  I believe this will still be posted on 3 October in US.  I just wanted to note that it's the 10th anniversary of Rita's passing:  how unbelievable to me.  Who knew 10 years later I would be working here.  I was telling Sara who came from the UK to join me that there was only one thing I knew for sure:  that Dead Rita and I would grow old together.  I was wrong.  But I could have only have dreamed that this woman who loved me so well could touch the lives of so many since her death.  May all you do in your life honor those you have lost, as I strive to honor my dearest departed Mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been bad about blogging in the last month as I prepared for this, my 6th trip to Rwanda in 3 years: read my other blog to follow that adventure.  http://itafari.org and go to the blog highlighted on the homepage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope to see you somewhere in the world, sometime soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-35791040454886258?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/35791040454886258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=35791040454886258' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/35791040454886258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/35791040454886258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/10/10-years-later.html' title='10 Years Later'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-5722920761382682178</id><published>2008-08-26T09:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T09:56:23.482-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dead rita'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cancer'/><title type='text'>It is well with my soul</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SLQ0naxgtHI/AAAAAAAAAIc/I90DXy9qGpw/s1600-h/Well+Arts.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238870118345258098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SLQ0naxgtHI/AAAAAAAAAIc/I90DXy9qGpw/s320/Well+Arts.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span xmlns=""&gt;There is so much trauma in the world. Self inflicted and inflicted upon us. But healing happens constantly through all mediums. Healing through the arts is the mission of Well Arts Institute &lt;a href="http://wellarts.org/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;http://wellarts.org/&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt; ,&lt;/strong&gt; a nonprofit in Portland that seeks to enhance wellness using the creative arts in the severely and chronically ill and people living with traumatic life events. &lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Last night I went to a fundraiser for them. KC Cowan, host of OPB's Oregon Art Beat acted as a fabulous MC and Susannah Mars, a vivacious cabaret singer brought warm, humor and personality to her performance. Additionally, two powerful pieces by Wells Arts were presented by the actors and writers who use the stories of those who have suffered to give insight to the audience of their pain, their journey and their path of healing. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The writers are those who experienced the work brought to us. They choose an actor to represent their story and the rest unfolds before the audience. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It was really good!&lt;/strong&gt; (you can see why my eloquent reviews don't warrant newspaper space!) &lt;span style="font-family:Wingdings;"&gt;J&lt;/span&gt; And money was raised for this important program. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I think of my darling Dead Rita and how she struggled with her cancer. She couldn't even say the "C" word until almost the end. Her story would have been fabulous. Her story, her wisdom, is the one I tell in my book. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;But what if she had had the chance to tell it in her own words?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; Healing would have been more complete. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But it is now well with her soul. There is more wellness in the souls of those whose stories are told through Well Arts Institute. And the gathering last night to celebrate and support this work made the souls of all who were in attendance better for being there. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Go to the website and then attend a performance in the future - you will be better for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-5722920761382682178?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/5722920761382682178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=5722920761382682178' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/5722920761382682178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/5722920761382682178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/08/it-is-well-with-my-soul.html' title='It is well with my soul'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SLQ0naxgtHI/AAAAAAAAAIc/I90DXy9qGpw/s72-c/Well+Arts.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-3297802195427741599</id><published>2008-08-25T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T07:00:01.340-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sharing Abundance:  Find. Give. Connect.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SLHCXFtQuiI/AAAAAAAAAIM/8HupAFd4GDk/s1600-h/DellaB4real.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238181543533394466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SLHCXFtQuiI/AAAAAAAAAIM/8HupAFd4GDk/s320/DellaB4real.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span xmlns=""&gt;We are blessed in this country. It is that simple. Some more blessed than others for sure. And if you choose to serve others, it is good to work in partnership with people who are of the same heart, soul and focus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;An amazing woman and friend of mine Della Rosenthal began an organization in 2005 with her sister called Sisters of the Community with a mission of providing low-income families with clothing, toys, books and other basic needs. After distributing 20,000 items in 18 mos. they decided to grow their organization in a geometric way and came up a unique solution: an online virtual warehouse where non profit organizations in need of items for their beneficiaries could meet donors in need of sharing their abundance. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;With 160 organizations signed up, the need is now for DONORS of items. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Here's how it works: Go to the website &lt;a href="http://donorsresource.org/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;http://DonorsResource.org&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; and read all about it. Look at the organizations who have signed up. Click on &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I WANT TO DONATE&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; and add your items to the virtual donation box. (watch a 3 min. video on the site to see how it works). Your privacy is not shared (email address) just your item. After you enter it successfully, and 'sent your item to the virtual warehouse' you'll be contacted through the website. But YOU initiate the contact with the organization to get your item. Brilliant. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Abundance is a gift. Here's a chance to share what you have with others in need. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-3297802195427741599?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/3297802195427741599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=3297802195427741599' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/3297802195427741599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/3297802195427741599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/08/sharing-abundance-find-give-connect.html' title='Sharing Abundance:  Find. Give. Connect.'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SLHCXFtQuiI/AAAAAAAAAIM/8HupAFd4GDk/s72-c/DellaB4real.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-4954068842946687971</id><published>2008-08-24T08:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T08:31:35.921-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dead rita'/><title type='text'>Ethnic Pride</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SLF81bQdAXI/AAAAAAAAAIE/suENUbt8yB8/s1600-h/Flags.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238105098900275570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SLF81bQdAXI/AAAAAAAAAIE/suENUbt8yB8/s320/Flags.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Where am I from, exactly? I don’t exactly know. For all of my thousands of conversations with Dead Rita, she was a little fuzzy on her heritage. She was born out of wedlock to my grandmother and Johnny Clark. I THINK it’s all German on my grandmother’s side….but is there some Polish in there too? I don’t know anything about Johnny Clark my grandfather. Mr. Papa proudly discussed his German heritage….but there was always so much exaggeration and so few facts, I have no idea where HIS family comes from within Germany. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s a family of secrets from a heritage standpoint. And I’m surprised at how little I care. Probably because it was never emphasized by either parent. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This all comes up as a topic after we spent a lovely evening at the Festa Italiana last night. John aka Giovanni, beloved amore, is half Italian (Father) and half Irish (Mother). But we definitely celebrate the Italian part of him and even went to Toro Italy to find his lineage. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When in Rwanda I see the pride of being a Rwandan, being from a certain place. That was never emphasized in my family and therefore few facts are known to me. I know I could do that whole genealogy search, but I don’t think so. It’s just interesting to see what is focused on by our parents, and then what legacy we are left with because of it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seem to fit in wherever I am in the world. But strangely enough, when we were in Northern Italy near the German border, John was handed a menu in Italian, and I was handed one in GERMAN! Das ist so lustig!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-4954068842946687971?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/4954068842946687971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=4954068842946687971' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/4954068842946687971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/4954068842946687971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/08/ethnic-pride.html' title='Ethnic Pride'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SLF81bQdAXI/AAAAAAAAAIE/suENUbt8yB8/s72-c/Flags.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-4054362436302814465</id><published>2008-08-21T04:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T04:39:55.482-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='A Must Read Book Club'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dead rita'/><title type='text'>A Must Read (AMR) – A Grief Observed</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SK1NwmeaZPI/AAAAAAAAAH8/oncdQ7Q8YPA/s1600-h/A+Grief+Observed.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236927439058920690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SK1NwmeaZPI/AAAAAAAAAH8/oncdQ7Q8YPA/s320/A+Grief+Observed.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;Welcome to my book corner. This reoccurring section of my blog is brought to you by my desire to share some of the meaningful books in my life. Some are more serious than others, but they are all about wisdom. Like my book about the wisest woman I'll ever know and her universal wisdom –&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://deadritaswisdom.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;http://DeadRitasWisdom.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Sign up at the website to get advance notice….I'll even sign your copy! How exciting for me!! And thanks. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;"&gt;AMR &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#993399;"&gt;3 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;One of my favorite authors CS Lewis wrote this book to describe his journey through the grief of his wife's death. He was a brilliant scholar and tutor who lived from 1898 – 1963. Well known for &lt;em&gt;The Chronicles of Narnia&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;em&gt;Mere Christianity&lt;/em&gt; and his lesser known works such as &lt;em&gt;The Screwtape Letters&lt;/em&gt; (one of my favorites).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;p&gt;I found &lt;em&gt;A Grief Observed&lt;/em&gt; not long after Rita had died. But I couldn't finish it. Lewis' journal of struggle, agony and near despair struck too close to home early after her death. Finally, I finished it a few months ago, nearly 10 years after her death. So much of what I experienced in understanding my loss and grief was spoken through this journal. A book of less than 100 pages that I recommend for anyone trying to understand their own journey through loss. NOT a light hearted read but one that brings healing. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I rarely discuss the loss of Mom because I honor her more by my action than my mere grief. But there is a place for grief and for me, CS Lewis helped to understand that journey through it. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-4054362436302814465?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/4054362436302814465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=4054362436302814465' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/4054362436302814465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/4054362436302814465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/08/must-read-amr-grief-observed.html' title='A Must Read (AMR) – A Grief Observed'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SK1NwmeaZPI/AAAAAAAAAH8/oncdQ7Q8YPA/s72-c/A+Grief+Observed.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-213442356478399974</id><published>2008-08-15T11:38:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T11:48:57.091-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dead rita'/><title type='text'>The best advice Dead Rita ever gave – gave me a great marriage</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SKXOyGvPO0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/-3zZ08F7_Kc/s1600-h/1981+Honeymoon.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234817502085593922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SKXOyGvPO0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/-3zZ08F7_Kc/s320/1981+Honeymoon.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;p&gt;I met John in January 1980. We married August 15, 1981. (honeymoon picture shown above) I was 24. His children were 12, 14, 16, 18 and he was 42. They said it wouldn't last. And they was everybody. Fair enough. It looked impossible. But the impossible is always possible. Ask anyone who has overcome impossible odds. An Olympian athelete, a single parent, a business person facing terrible odds, a survivor of the 1994 Rwandan genocide. And yet. We accomplish the impossible. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Our lack of support was complete. Dead Rita's support was nonexistent and would have been a deal breaker if she hadn't taught me the following lesson: "someday you may choose someone we disagree with – if you can leave your entire world to be with him, then go. If not, he's not the one." I got engaged on a regular basis (no really) and whenever I asked myself that question, invariably I knew the answer was NO I WOULDN'T LEAVE MY ENTIRE WORLD TO BE WITH THIS MAN!! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As we neared the big day in 1981, I got nervous and asked myself the question above. Without thinking, I said, "yes, I would leave my world!" I was stunned and afraid and knew he was the one. In the meantime, Rita (not dead then) did everything but throw herself in front of a train to stop the upcoming nuptials. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;In fact, 2 nights before our wedding JOHN told me I shouldn't marry him! He told me I didn't know what I was doing. I was devastated and told him, "look – someone has to believe in this besides me! You have to believe we can make it." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But a year after we were married, Dead Rita apologized and said she was wrong. I reminded her of the wisdom she had given me when I was 17 which made me realize he was the one. She didn't remember but it was true wisdom.  (it's this kind of &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;universal &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;wisdom in the upcoming book)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A seriously great marriage. Funny, sexy, loving, successful. We're now 51 and 69. I'm at the height of my career, John is retired for 6 years and just built an airplane. Life is good. And while everything could change in a moment, I cherish this life and what we've shared. I do – I do – I do!&lt;span style="color:#1f497d;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-213442356478399974?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/213442356478399974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=213442356478399974' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/213442356478399974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/213442356478399974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/08/best-advice-dead-rita-ever-gave-gave-me.html' title='The best advice Dead Rita ever gave – gave me a great marriage'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SKXOyGvPO0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/-3zZ08F7_Kc/s72-c/1981+Honeymoon.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-2827171167903623126</id><published>2008-08-12T08:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T08:20:02.864-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Flourish</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SKGqDXFShTI/AAAAAAAAAHk/Sm13VRpGm5Q/s1600-h/Flourish.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233651216693757234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SKGqDXFShTI/AAAAAAAAAHk/Sm13VRpGm5Q/s320/Flourish.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h2&gt;A wonderful friend of mine started an organization called Flourish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h3&gt;&lt;em&gt;"All serious daring starts from within."&lt;/em&gt; — Eudora Welty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Flourish was created in 2007 by Nancy Thompson as a way to Connect, Inspire and Empower women by bringing together interesting people and inspiring events that help participants grow, thrive…Flourish! Nancy combines her creative talents, event planning skills and strong desire to be a catalyst for personal growth to create a unique business that is focused on inspiring and connecting women. The goal of Flourish is to create a community of women who value the opportunity to take time from their hectic lives to relax in the company of other women, explore new things, and share ideas in a fun and relaxed atmosphere. Through her own experience as a wife, mother, worker, volunteer and friend, Nancy knows how easy it can be to lose our "self" in the busy-ness of life. Flourish's mission is to offer events that will create wonderful opportunities to re-connect and celebrate who we are as women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I've attended her events and have left inspired. Paola Gianturco who wrote Women Who Light the Dark took my breath away. Dr. Kelley Reis, a Naturopathic Physician gave a wonderful talk about women and health. Nancy brings women together in a meaningful way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;She asked if she could feature me as 'August Fabulously Flourishing Friend' (ah, give me a second….SURE!). So here's the link: The Flourish Flash Blog - &lt;a href="http://flourishpdx.wordpress.com/"&gt;http://flourishpdx.wordpress.com/&lt;/a&gt; To see more about her events and attend and connect and &lt;strong&gt;FLOURISH&lt;/strong&gt;, go to: &lt;a href="http://flourish-pdx.com/"&gt;http://flourish-pdx.com/&lt;/a&gt; See you there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;And thanks Nancy for allowing us to flourish together. V&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-2827171167903623126?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/2827171167903623126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=2827171167903623126' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/2827171167903623126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/2827171167903623126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/08/flourish.html' title='Flourish'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SKGqDXFShTI/AAAAAAAAAHk/Sm13VRpGm5Q/s72-c/Flourish.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-3195246385614621209</id><published>2008-08-08T11:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T12:51:21.717-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dead rita'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cancer'/><title type='text'>A Journey of 60 Miles</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SJySKJnsg0I/AAAAAAAAAHc/nTkm1Z4jpuI/s1600-h/Simmons+Nikes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232217570176435010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SJySKJnsg0I/AAAAAAAAAHc/nTkm1Z4jpuI/s320/Simmons+Nikes.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;A new friend of mine, Laura Simmons is walking in the 3 Day Breast Cancer walk for Susan G. Komen for the Cure Race. She will walk 60 miles over 3 days in Seattle beginning on September 12&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt;. I am supporting her financially on this journey and encourage you to do the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://08.the3day.org/goto/DrLaura"&gt;http://08.the3day.org/goto/DrLaura&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dead Rita died from complications of breast cancer. The last time I walked in the Race for the Cure in Portland was in 1997 with her. She didn't want to do it – HATED cancer but joined me on the walk – truly for me she walked. It was an 8K and though she was in good shape, she had feet as tender as a baby's. So what did she do? Buy new tennis shoes and not wear socks! By a mile into it, she was hobbling from blisters. But she refused to give up. I gave her my socks and she walked in &lt;em&gt;socks only&lt;/em&gt; for the rest of the walk. She NEVER went barefoot and it was excruciating for her. But we finished. Dead last. (even the motorcycle cop passed us.) And 40,000 participants. But she finished the race.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I honor her by giving whenever I can. But I still cannot bring myself to walk a race for breast cancer….yet. In the meantime, join me in honoring someone you know. Give any amount. But please give. Thanks. To donate go to Laura's home page on the Komen site: &lt;a href="http://08.the3day.org/goto/DrLaura"&gt;http://08.the3day.org/goto/DrLaura&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-3195246385614621209?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/3195246385614621209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=3195246385614621209' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/3195246385614621209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/3195246385614621209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/08/journey-of-60-miles.html' title='A Journey of 60 Miles'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SJySKJnsg0I/AAAAAAAAAHc/nTkm1Z4jpuI/s72-c/Simmons+Nikes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-1366460500291760453</id><published>2008-08-06T21:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T04:40:33.711-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='A Must Read Book Club'/><title type='text'>A  True Must Read (AMR) – Walter the Farting Dog</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SJqBC7xmIPI/AAAAAAAAAHU/4aklmrlKLlE/s1600-h/Walter+the+Farting+Dog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231635804549685490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SJqBC7xmIPI/AAAAAAAAAHU/4aklmrlKLlE/s320/Walter+the+Farting+Dog.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Welcome back book worms and readers! This will be a reoccurring section of this blog…books I love. Other than &lt;a href="http://deadritaswisdom.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;http://DeadRitasWisdom.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;"&gt;AMR &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Through the simplest of messages come profound ideas. No. Not flatulence. This first book in the series appeared in our home a few years ago when our granddaughter gave her grandfather, aka Pappy, aka John, the first book for Father's Day. I was dismayed at the title – tooting is just not something I embrace. But the grand kids and John roared as she read the book aloud to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Walter has a problem with back end blow outs and this book is all about his adventures. The underlying message is that this series is for everyone who has ever felt misjudged or misunderstood. For you must understand, Walter's bottom burps occur when he is happy – or using his unusual power to save the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Beautifully written and illustrated, a real toot, I mean HOOT, to read:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;Titles include but are not limited to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;Walter the Farting Dog&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;Walter the Farting Dog Farts Again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;Walter the Farting Dog: Trouble at the Yard Sale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;Rough Weather Ahead for Walter the Farting Dog&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;AND EVEN ONE IN LATIN: Walter Canis Inflatus (because they farted in Roman times too) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;There are others in the series which I also own. There's a plushy with sound effects. Which I don't own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Authors: William Katzwinkle and Glenn Murray – Illustrated by Audrey Colman&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-1366460500291760453?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/1366460500291760453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=1366460500291760453' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/1366460500291760453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/1366460500291760453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/08/true-must-read-amr-walter-farting-dog.html' title='A  True Must Read (AMR) – Walter the Farting Dog'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SJqBC7xmIPI/AAAAAAAAAHU/4aklmrlKLlE/s72-c/Walter+the+Farting+Dog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-2723169781892633921</id><published>2008-08-04T16:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T16:14:25.101-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='itafari'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dead rita'/><title type='text'>My A Game</title><content type='html'>&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;p&gt;I can't speak to this weekend's attempt for the largest kazoo gathering in Hillsboro for the Guinness Book of World Records BUT there was excitement for me at the Williamette Writers Conference on Saturday! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I met writers, agents, intelligent thoughtful people who are working hard in the book business.  And then I remembered what I didn't realize I'd forgotten:  writing this book is just like another business.  And I love business.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Writing Dead Rita's Wisdom and marketing it is no different from the business of the Itafari Foundation or the business of my Executive Coaching and Speaking business. It's all about executing a plan and following through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;For Itafari, it's about clarifying the message of assisting Rwandans to rebuild their country in ways they know are most productive. &lt;a href="http://itafari.org/"&gt;http://itafari.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;For my business of coaching and speaking it's working with clients in a way that empowers them to be their personal best in business and in life &lt;a href="http://victoriatrbosh.com/"&gt;http://victoriatrbosh.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;For Dead Rita's Wisdom it's the message of what this book is about, what it can do for others, and how it's needed to assist people in connecting in with their own inner wisdom.    It's about a compelling and convincing book proposal.  A great author's platform.  A passionate belief in the power of this book.  &lt;a href="http://deadritaswisdom.com/"&gt;http://DeadRitasWisdom.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;For all these things in my life (and other areas as well) I need to &lt;em&gt;bring my A game or said another way, not hold anything back&lt;/em&gt;. An excellent message, proposal and then execution.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Just like life. Have an &lt;em&gt;A Game&lt;/em&gt; week my friends. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-2723169781892633921?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/2723169781892633921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=2723169781892633921' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/2723169781892633921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/2723169781892633921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-game.html' title='My A Game'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-5835912171387932555</id><published>2008-08-01T08:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T21:55:32.988-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dead rita'/><title type='text'>Agents and Kazoos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SJMrpIcAQMI/AAAAAAAAAG0/HOiF5pI8l_0/s1600-h/Kazoo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229571577946849474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SJMrpIcAQMI/AAAAAAAAAG0/HOiF5pI8l_0/s320/Kazoo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I thought this weekend was going to be relatively quiet but it's just picked up a few clicks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;This morning John was reading the paper and said, "hey, did you see this article titled &lt;strong&gt;Asians troll for books&lt;/strong&gt;?" What??? And then he said AGENTS &lt;em&gt;(I have got to get my ears checked!)&lt;/em&gt; will be at the Willamette Writers Conference this Saturday and writers can pitch their books! Now doesn't that sound like fun?? It does to me! Talking about DEAD RITA with new fresh faces…it feels like I'll be at Amateur Night at the Apollo Theatre ready for the buzzer. Because all they can say is no. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dead Rita's Wisdom – the series….Wisdom Weekends for Women….Book club appearances….website &lt;a href="http://deadritaswisdom.com/"&gt;http://deadritaswisdom.com/&lt;/a&gt; (have YOU signed up for notice about the book?) … Larry King Live (don't ask about the last one – just a weird premonition) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'll report back Monday. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And THEN, to keep our grandson happy on Saturday, John also spotted the &lt;span style="TEXT-DECORATION: underline"&gt;Guinness World Record Attempt for the largest kazoo ensemble in Hillsboro Oregon!&lt;/span&gt; (And as the ad says: no talent required.) Now that will be entertainment! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Everybody wins! Somebody is going to make a splash! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Happy Friday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-5835912171387932555?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/5835912171387932555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=5835912171387932555' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/5835912171387932555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/5835912171387932555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/08/agents-and-kazoos.html' title='Agents and Kazoos'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SJMrpIcAQMI/AAAAAAAAAG0/HOiF5pI8l_0/s72-c/Kazoo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-8754144163787655335</id><published>2008-07-30T08:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T08:56:54.947-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='A Must Read Book Club'/><title type='text'>A Must Read (AMR) – The Art of Power</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SJCO53QWU7I/AAAAAAAAAGs/ebK4mX3fRbE/s1600-h/Book+club.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228836292113355698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SJCO53QWU7I/AAAAAAAAAGs/ebK4mX3fRbE/s320/Book+club.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;No, I'm not talking about Dead Rita's Wisdom, soon to be published by a yet to be named publisher. (But do sign up at the website to get first notice – &lt;a href="http://deadritaswisdom.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#7030a0;"&gt;http://DeadRitasWisdom.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#7030a0;"&gt;)&lt;/span&gt; This will be a reoccurring section of this blog….books I love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:18;color:#7030a0;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;AMR&lt;/span&gt; 1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm reading THE ART OF POWER by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Thich&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Nhat&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Hanh&lt;/span&gt; (great news – you don't have to pronounce the author's name, just buy the book).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm interested in the study of what power is truly about. This book is the most interesting and thought provoking I've read in a long LONG time. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Thich&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Nhat&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Hanh&lt;/span&gt; is a Vietnamese Buddhist Zen master, poet, scholar, and peace activist. He reveals how true power comes from within. What we seek, we already have.  (Amen and amen!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;It is the wisdom we have that leads us. And true power is understanding the ability to be happy right in the present moment, free from addition, fear, despair, discrimination, anger and ignorance. 218 pages long. Well written and life changing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Wise man who shares who he is, how he lives, and what he knows. He's written many books and if he wanders into the genre of dead mothers, my book is toast! (but I'm not too worried) Enjoy his words of wisdom.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-8754144163787655335?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/8754144163787655335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=8754144163787655335' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/8754144163787655335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/8754144163787655335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/07/must-read-amr-art-of-power.html' title='A Must Read (AMR) – The Art of Power'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SJCO53QWU7I/AAAAAAAAAGs/ebK4mX3fRbE/s72-c/Book+club.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-1203163989207743802</id><published>2008-07-29T10:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T11:06:32.756-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You just don’t aim to believe!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SI9bIpIUrYI/AAAAAAAAAGk/RVkSo3ifXww/s1600-h/Believe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228497896438279554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SI9bIpIUrYI/AAAAAAAAAGk/RVkSo3ifXww/s320/Believe.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;My Jr. High School math teacher, Mr. Schmidt used to say that. I didn't like math – but he knew the chances of succeeding were much greater if I believed I could succeed. And he'd always holler: You just don't aim to believe! And he was right – and when I began to believe, then I succeeded. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yesterday on my 'Twitter Tweet' I started the day with - "Settling into Monday and not settling for anything but the best" . I meant it too. On Sundays I'm always eager for Monday and what opportunity it will bring. By Monday morning, not so eager. But I decided yesterday morning would be different. And by 11am, I found $2300 I didn't know I'd lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You just gotta believe. In what's possible. And what the day will bring. From a blow-your-hair-back kind of belief. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I do believe I do believe!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm sure Mr. Schmidt is dead now too (he was in his late 50's/60's in the early 1970's when I was in school.) Dead Schmidt's wisdom. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, do you aim to believe in what is possible?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-1203163989207743802?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/1203163989207743802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=1203163989207743802' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/1203163989207743802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/1203163989207743802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/07/you-just-dont-aim-to-believe-or-do-you.html' title='You just don’t aim to believe!'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SI9bIpIUrYI/AAAAAAAAAGk/RVkSo3ifXww/s72-c/Believe.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-4905282222951312278</id><published>2008-07-28T10:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T10:02:59.552-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dead rita'/><title type='text'>I could use some wisdom</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SI37vsKeM6I/AAAAAAAAAGc/hvfTMZm4ats/s1600-h/Answers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228111539174519714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SI37vsKeM6I/AAAAAAAAAGc/hvfTMZm4ats/s320/Answers.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Having grandchildren staying with us becomes a full time job for me. Though I'm wise enough to get them off to camp all day, when they're home with us I want to be fully present. But who do I become around them? I'm so tough on them! Lots of laughter for sure. Fun. Games. But lots of rules. I never chose to have children of my own but marrying John was the great cosmic answer to that plan. I was given, and truly accepted, four. They're all grown and now have these wonderful kids that they share with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;So in the summer when they visit for a week at time, I want to give them my best. But I know I want too much. I want them to knock it out of the ballpark every time. And whenever they say something that shows their doubt in their own abilities, I'm RIGHT THERE to coach them to…. what ? A better answer? A more empowered view? I don't know. I don't always remember that who they are is enough. But how do you consistently bring out the best in a child and encourage them to believe in themselves?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Good evidence that the kids love me. They're all eager to visit and stay with us. My grandson Matthew said, "Vitsy, you are &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;very&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; funny!" (Now THERE'S a brilliant child!) I know I connect with them. But I must not be frustrated &lt;em&gt;for&lt;/em&gt; them. It's important to balance my desire for their success in life with the reality that who they are, in this moment, is enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Boy could I use some of Dead Rita's wisdom! How did she do it so well for me? She was tough. Didn't tell me I was wonderful all the time. But somehow I felt loved and supported. Her compliments were always sincere. But I wonder what I think is missing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is when having a dead mother really becomes an issue for me. When it becomes clear that I really need her here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'll search around in my brain for a good answer on how to be the best for my grandchildren – what WOULD Dead Rita have said?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;But sometimes words of encouragement from a great source really help. So if you're reading this and have words of wisdom, don't hesitate to tell me. I don't know it all: I just look like I do! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-4905282222951312278?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/4905282222951312278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=4905282222951312278' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/4905282222951312278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/4905282222951312278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-could-use-some-wisdom.html' title='I could use some wisdom'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SI37vsKeM6I/AAAAAAAAAGc/hvfTMZm4ats/s72-c/Answers.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-7612925124158000886</id><published>2008-07-18T16:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T16:31:29.710-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dead rita'/><title type='text'>Sign up for notice on book!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SIEnV3KsDJI/AAAAAAAAAGU/yQDJw6eH108/s1600-h/Register.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224500299266002066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SIEnV3KsDJI/AAAAAAAAAGU/yQDJw6eH108/s320/Register.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I've owned the website &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;DeadRitasWisdom&lt;/span&gt;.com for sometime. But the homepage was just a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;placemarker&lt;/span&gt; from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;godaddy&lt;/span&gt;.com Kinda ugly. And definitely not Dead Rita's style. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But no more! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Da&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Da&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Da&lt;/span&gt;-(provide your own crescendo here) &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;DAAAAAA&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/span&gt; Website is LIVE - which means take a look and SIGN UP to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;receive&lt;/span&gt; early notice when the book will be available for sale. (not selling your name or any nasty thing like that - just pure notification when available).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You say your name is RITA??! LUCKY YOU! You'll &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;receive&lt;/span&gt; a free copy if you're one of the first 500! Nice huh? Dead Rita would like that. (She was very generous.) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No pressure. No hook. Just letting me know you were serious when you told me "I can't wait for this book!" Be the first on your block to own it! When you say? Not sure, I say! But the suspense is building.... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Click here to go to the website: &lt;a href="http://deadritaswisdom.com/"&gt;http://deadritaswisdom.com/&lt;/a&gt; How exciting is this! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-7612925124158000886?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/7612925124158000886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=7612925124158000886' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/7612925124158000886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/7612925124158000886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/07/sign-up-for-notice-on-book.html' title='Sign up for notice on book!'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SIEnV3KsDJI/AAAAAAAAAGU/yQDJw6eH108/s72-c/Register.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-8794899012264456433</id><published>2008-07-16T09:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T10:06:35.447-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dead Rita in the News</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SH4qbNpNNzI/AAAAAAAAAGM/lhOHZ_OIM4g/s1600-h/Channel+3+News.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223659264803682098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 168px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 119px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="105" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SH4qbNpNNzI/AAAAAAAAAGM/lhOHZ_OIM4g/s320/Channel+3+News.jpg" width="150" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;No surprise to me. She's making waves from beyond the grave (that's a weird visual). But wisdom is wisdom and her ability to remind us that we can have a powerful voice should not be limited in life (or death). She has my vote! Enjoy this news piece about her.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.news3online.com/index.php?code=7SKS216y2esL277Lyh26"&gt;http://www.news3online.com/index.php?code=7SKS216y2esL277Lyh26&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-8794899012264456433?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/8794899012264456433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=8794899012264456433' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/8794899012264456433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/8794899012264456433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/07/dead-rita-in-news.html' title='Dead Rita in the News'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SH4qbNpNNzI/AAAAAAAAAGM/lhOHZ_OIM4g/s72-c/Channel+3+News.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-2340169980712433072</id><published>2008-07-15T08:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T08:20:47.732-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Sister is Watching</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SHzANYADcEI/AAAAAAAAAGE/5mPvin-0_O0/s1600-h/arianna+Huffington.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223261003856441410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SHzANYADcEI/AAAAAAAAAGE/5mPvin-0_O0/s320/arianna+Huffington.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;p&gt;Huh. So I get a google alert on the Arianna Huffington's blog The Huffington Post website that there is the 'Victoria Trabosh Campaign and Donations' Page. Huh. ( I think again). Who's raising money for me, and what campaign am I in?! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Really, I am so dumb sometimes. I go to the The Huffington Post FUNDRACE 2008 and there I am with my contribution that I've given to a presidential candidate. (contributions over $200 show – with the street you live on, the candidate(s) you've given to and the amount.) While I realize political contributions aren't private, this is interesting to me. They show that my zip code has given over $100,000 in the primaries. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am stunned at the amount of money we spend to get people elected. And as hard as people work to make money, so much of it is wasted by the candidates and their staffs. The business of their business, electing their candidate, is often a poorly run business. I'm just saying. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Too bad I wasn't right in the first place. That there was a Victoria Trabosh candidate…..I would have supported her! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-2340169980712433072?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/2340169980712433072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=2340169980712433072' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/2340169980712433072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/2340169980712433072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/07/big-sister-is-watching.html' title='Big Sister is Watching'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SHzANYADcEI/AAAAAAAAAGE/5mPvin-0_O0/s72-c/arianna+Huffington.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-4387553604430691460</id><published>2008-07-06T16:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T07:53:08.881-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dead rita'/><title type='text'>Can I get a whoo hoo?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SHFb0kb7xyI/AAAAAAAAAF0/AwPMoLv2Jf0/s1600-h/Whoo+hoo+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220054401791280930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SHFb0kb7xyI/AAAAAAAAAF0/AwPMoLv2Jf0/s320/Whoo+hoo+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Just a little declaration here: I'm &lt;strong&gt;done&lt;/strong&gt; (for now) re-editing Dead Rita's Wisdom! WHOO HOO! It took tremendous discipline but a certain publisher (we'll call him Rick-mostly because that's his name) who is coaching me will be pleased I'm sure!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;It's amazing to sit for hours and read her wisdom that I have written about. It empowers me to accomplish so much! A woman whose life was so hard – who died too young. Who left behind magnificent wisdom. And I somehow captured it. Whether or not we have something here that is marketable remains to be seen – or as DR would say: "We shall see what we shall see".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;So much dead wisdom out there! JFK, Eleanor Roosevelt, your deceased grandparent, a teacher's kind words when you were a child (and you're old now so they could be dead…) and it goes on and on. Do not take this lightly – but do see it all with a sense of wonder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;It's a definite whoo hoo moment!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-4387553604430691460?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/4387553604430691460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=4387553604430691460' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/4387553604430691460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/4387553604430691460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/07/can-i-hear-whoo-hoo.html' title='Can I get a whoo hoo?!'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SHFb0kb7xyI/AAAAAAAAAF0/AwPMoLv2Jf0/s72-c/Whoo+hoo+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-1220625360247478314</id><published>2008-07-01T09:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T10:08:49.323-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='itafari'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dead rita'/><title type='text'>Not a Spy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SGpjyU0A-tI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Y_ZZoHDTG40/s1600-h/I+Spy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218092834493627090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SGpjyU0A-tI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Y_ZZoHDTG40/s320/I+Spy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;This came up yesterday again in a conversation. And I'd like to start by saying I am not a spy for the CIA. "URRRHH? " you say in your best Scoobie Doo voice??! In some parts of the world, if you get a lot done, it is assumed you possibly/may/probably work for the government. Different cultures look at the effectiveness of an individual in different ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Certainly in Rwanda I've been thought to be a spy for us/them…I don't know. And while I do find it amusing and a bit flattering that I'm that important or useful, it's not true. It's only a topic of conversation because I and Itafari accomplish so much in Rwanda with so little. &lt;a href="http://itafari.org/"&gt;http://itafari.org/&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;And the assumption is to accomplish so much, you must have amazing resources or connections or power. WHAT IF it were possible to accomplish so much because you're doing what you're meant to do; you have a belief and faith in the power of what is possible; and you'll overcome any obstacle to reach your goal. What if that was the truth. And so people who haven't found success believe that the other guy is just lucky/connected/corrupt. Shame on them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;In a country like Rwanda it's a bit easier to understand because so many people promise to accomplish something and don't. Well lucky us. It's not easy but we're determined. I'm determined on a personal level to accomplish the goals we set. And then set bigger goals and accomplish them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dead Rita is my inspiration. She overcame overwhelming odds and was an exceptional human being. She overcame poverty, ignorance, shame, abuse, fear and doubts. And did it anyway. I love that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;So all you would be spies: quit waiting for something or someone to save you or accomplish what you can't. Become your own solution. And stay out of the spy business.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-1220625360247478314?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/1220625360247478314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=1220625360247478314' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/1220625360247478314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/1220625360247478314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/07/not-spy.html' title='Not a Spy'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SGpjyU0A-tI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Y_ZZoHDTG40/s72-c/I+Spy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-3395680501120466071</id><published>2008-06-30T13:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T14:09:20.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HIM surgery</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SGlK1tp0xCI/AAAAAAAAAFk/nE2dlvJafK8/s1600-h/Surgeon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217783929933972514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SGlK1tp0xCI/AAAAAAAAAFk/nE2dlvJafK8/s320/Surgeon.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;First it was my hearing. I think it was too much rock and roll in the 60's/70's….then I began to read words weirdly…the eyes are drying out. Now it's typing on my pearl…..the thumbs are going bad?! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I was in Hawaii over the weekend for a fundraiser for Itafari. My crackberry is great for sending and receiving emails. I had written to a friend that I was having *** surgery in August. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;She wrote back and said, "what is HIM surgery?" I didn't type HIM, I typed GUM. On my keyboard letters are shared. So the GH key picked the G, the UI key picked the I and the M key behaved itself.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;"No, not HIM surgery – GUM surgery" But we both thought of HIM surgery and she wrote back….&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Lol! I had him surgery 5 years ago - called it a divorce!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;What a great expression – HIM surgery for a divorce. And a hot flash is a POWER SURGE~ And the restaurant DB Dawson's is &lt;em&gt;BABY DOLPHIN'S&lt;/em&gt; when the ears aren't working… &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;May all your senses serve you well – or at least give you a good laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-3395680501120466071?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/3395680501120466071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=3395680501120466071' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/3395680501120466071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/3395680501120466071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/06/him-surgery.html' title='HIM surgery'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SGlK1tp0xCI/AAAAAAAAAFk/nE2dlvJafK8/s72-c/Surgeon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-611465578773594010</id><published>2008-06-25T16:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T17:25:35.354-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='itafari'/><title type='text'>I’m going to Harvard AND Hawaii!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SGLhIRe18KI/AAAAAAAAAFc/1481qUU_XoQ/s1600-h/Brain.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215978850696425634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SGLhIRe18KI/AAAAAAAAAFc/1481qUU_XoQ/s320/Brain.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Today I was listening on NPR Fresh Air with Terry Gross to Dr. Jill Bolte Taylor, a brain scientist who suffered a stroke. She just wrote a book called &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;My Stroke of Insight&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. She talks about this event in her life. The part that relates to me is that she was talking about Harvard and the need that scientists have to study brain tissue. She is the National Spokesperson for the Harvard Brain Tissue Resource center. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.brainbank.mclean.org/Donate.html"&gt;http://www.brainbank.mclean.org/Donate.html&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Someday when I die, I can have my brain designated to go to this research center. And I thought, "what a great way to get into Harvard!" Not a lifelong dream, but certainly a nice coup. So I'm going to fill out the paperwork and let everyone know my desire for my brain to be &lt;em&gt;carefully&lt;/em&gt; studied. (for the obvious and not so obvious reasons!) (to read more about Dr. Taylor, go to her website: &lt;a href="http://drjilltaylor.com/"&gt;http://drjilltaylor.com/&lt;/a&gt; )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Check. Going to Harvard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tomorrow I leave for Oahu for 4 days. In addition to a fundraising event for Itafari on Friday night, it was going to be a week vacation for me and John.  Unfortunately our 17 year old kitty Missy is ill and we really couldn't justify putting her down for a vacation (I don't want a new book called Dead Cat Wisdom!) So John's staying home to watch her and I'll be going over to have an event for Itafari to raise money for Rwanda. The event is Friday night, relax Saturday, home on Sunday – no vacation but hopefully a good event for Itafari! &lt;a href="http://itafari.org/"&gt;http://itafari.org/&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Check without my mate...... a bit sadder.  But going to Hawaii.  (bonus:  no kitties would be hurt in the making of a vacation!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-611465578773594010?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/611465578773594010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=611465578773594010' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/611465578773594010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/611465578773594010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/06/im-going-to-harvard-and-hawaii.html' title='I’m going to Harvard AND Hawaii!'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SGLhIRe18KI/AAAAAAAAAFc/1481qUU_XoQ/s72-c/Brain.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-4631920105381500895</id><published>2008-06-23T17:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T18:02:19.399-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pure Joy in the World</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SGBHjaBPaZI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/pK-PET2bVmw/s1600-h/wherethehellismatt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215247042100554130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SGBHjaBPaZI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/pK-PET2bVmw/s320/wherethehellismatt.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;There's a YouTube video you must watch. It's called where-the-hell-is-Matt. It's so joyful your day will be better for the watching. And after you've watched it, please tell me if you truly believe the people of the world are different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I say: not so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zlfKdbWwruY&amp;amp;NR=1"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zlfKdbWwruY&amp;amp;NR=1&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;(and do click on the "watch in high quality" under the video) (and make sure your volume is on) (and enjoy)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-4631920105381500895?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/4631920105381500895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=4631920105381500895' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/4631920105381500895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/4631920105381500895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/06/pure-joy-in-world.html' title='Pure Joy in the World'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SGBHjaBPaZI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/pK-PET2bVmw/s72-c/wherethehellismatt.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-5099140545143990791</id><published>2008-06-21T13:38:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-21T13:47:25.450-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Clinton'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='itafari'/><title type='text'>One of my best pictures ever!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SF1nB6KAplI/AAAAAAAAAFI/H8LUW96kaCk/s1600-h/scan001001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214437226053674578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SF1nB6KAplI/AAAAAAAAAFI/H8LUW96kaCk/s320/scan001001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;In April I was fortunate enough to meet President Bill Clinton when he was here in Portland stumping for Hillary. &lt;span style="color:#00b0f0;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Previous blog about this is titled CLICK ! posted in April.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We had a great conversation about Rwanda and I wanted to memorialize it with a photo. Someone promised to take a picture for me so that I could use it for the Itafari website (&lt;a href="http://itafari.org/"&gt;http://itafari.org/&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt; I&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; in turn promised to buy a goat for the children of Rwanda for $25 in his honor! (Feel free to purchase goats yourself at the Itafari website under DONATE). &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This last Thursday, my friend Bette Bode who was there representing the city of Beaverton the same day gave me the picture he had taken. And here it is. I'm not highly photogenic and usually my mouth is hanging open because I'm talking.... But this, I must say, is truly one of my better photos. And the only one capturing my conversation with the President. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The photographer, who will remain unnamed, will get a photo of the back of a goat rather than a goat purchased in this name. Makes me laugh – and truly 15 minutes of fame can be lost if not memorialized!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-5099140545143990791?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/5099140545143990791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=5099140545143990791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/5099140545143990791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/5099140545143990791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/06/one-of-my-best-pictures-ever.html' title='One of my best pictures ever!'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SF1nB6KAplI/AAAAAAAAAFI/H8LUW96kaCk/s72-c/scan001001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-8291123744628182519</id><published>2008-06-19T11:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T11:25:26.856-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='experts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tokyo sex phone operator'/><title type='text'>Help A Reporter Out!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SFqkbFhnKNI/AAAAAAAAAEw/KQ4LwOJWmXo/s1600-h/HARO.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213660303881349330" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SFqkbFhnKNI/AAAAAAAAAEw/KQ4LwOJWmXo/s320/HARO.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Someone sent me Peter Shankman's website - HARO - Help a reporter out. It's a place to answer queries from reporters/writers on many subjects - because we're all an expert on something. I get 3 emails a day and am just WAITING for someone to request an 'expert' on people whose dead mother still inspires them on a daily basis..... (me! me! Call on me!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've seen some really interesting requests. Here's a sample from one of my emails today: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;) What Not to Wear to Work&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Gym Wars!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Natural Gas Fitted Power Plants&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Love you, hate your job&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Notable Latinas for new Magazine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) Tokyo Sex Phone Operator (not kidding.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;An explanation of each request follows. Sign up on his website - he's funny and pithy - my kind of guy! And who knows, if you're a Tokyo Sex Phone Operator here's your chance for a little fame on your 'expertise!' (Dead Rita would be shocked!) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://helpareporter.com/press/"&gt;http://HelpAReporter.com/press/&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-8291123744628182519?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/8291123744628182519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=8291123744628182519' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/8291123744628182519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/8291123744628182519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/06/help-reporter-out.html' title='Help A Reporter Out!'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SFqkbFhnKNI/AAAAAAAAAEw/KQ4LwOJWmXo/s72-c/HARO.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-2543292741543058405</id><published>2008-06-17T13:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T11:28:24.197-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dead rita'/><title type='text'>Introducing Dead Rita!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SFgf99ZeBlI/AAAAAAAAAEo/-EPTeeza1pM/s1600-h/MOM.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212951717995218514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SFgf99ZeBlI/AAAAAAAAAEo/-EPTeeza1pM/s320/MOM.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I speak of her and this blog is because of her. So here she is. Uncharacteristically and decidedly animated in public! I love this picture of her. It's from the early 1990's. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;She was my dearest friend and a fabulous Mom. Dead Rita's Wisdom, the book, is all about the wisdom she imparted throughout her life. After she died in 1998, I continued to think of the words and wisdom she brought to me. They do sustain me, and others. So the book will give you wisdom and remind you to tap into yours – either the wisdom from people in your life who are no longer alive, or those that who surround you and support you. Wisdom comes from other places too….tap into it. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;See the survey to the right of this blog. Feel free to participate. Thanks! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-2543292741543058405?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/2543292741543058405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=2543292741543058405' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/2543292741543058405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/2543292741543058405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/06/introducing-dead-rita.html' title='Introducing Dead Rita!'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SFgf99ZeBlI/AAAAAAAAAEo/-EPTeeza1pM/s72-c/MOM.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-6183048064152295971</id><published>2008-06-15T21:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T08:59:01.033-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mayor v Queen for a Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SFXy50dFqeI/AAAAAAAAAEE/33rWYxLHQcI/s1600-h/Queen+for+a+Day.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212339218898332130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SFXy50dFqeI/AAAAAAAAAEE/33rWYxLHQcI/s320/Queen+for+a+Day.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="BACKGROUND: white"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:black;"&gt;I've lived in Lake Oswego for 26 years. When we moved from Cleveland to this area we chose it for its schools and neighborhoods and proximity to Portland. Like many small communities it has its share of drama. I haven't noticed much all these years but suddenly this little town will be much more interesting to me for at least one special day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="BACKGROUND: white"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:black;"&gt;I am part of the Lake Oswego Rotary and enjoy carrying out the theme of service above self. Last night was our annual Lobster Feed which clears over $100,000 for charities in the Portland area. There is a silent and oral auction. We entered items into the silent and oral auctions and then I try VERY hard not to bid on anything! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="BACKGROUND: white"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:black;"&gt;We need nothing. I can sell three quarters of the STUFF I have and not miss it. I know this, and yet I wander the tables. Looking for that MUST have item. One little thing caught my eye.....MAYOR FOR A DAY IN LAKE OSWEGO! Now that sounds like fun. Bid a few times and ended up winning. Whoo hoo! (do mayors say 'whoo hoo'??) Off to a shaky start already! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="BACKGROUND: white"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:black;"&gt;I'll follow Mayor Judy Hammerstad for a day (includes lunch - I'm all about that!) and see what it's like to run this lovely little town of ours. And already the power is going to my head! How exciting is this!? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="BACKGROUND: white"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:black;"&gt;Dead Rita and I used to watch Queen for a Day in the early 1960's. I always wanted her to be Queen for a Day....she was perfect. And the gifts! Ah! A refrigerator! A stove! I remember nothing else. But the scepter, the cape, the crown, the adoration, and then...the refrigerator!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="BACKGROUND: white"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:black;"&gt;I wonder if Mayor for a day comes with any of those things? I've never seen Mayor Judy with any regal finery.....could be my first (and last) order of business! I'd love a new refrigerator too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="BACKGROUND: white"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:black;"&gt;Oh well. I may have to be content wielding little or no power just watching local government in action. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="BACKGROUND: white"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:black;"&gt;A little fantasy I've had for the last 12 years since we passed through the town of Cashmere Washington was becoming THEIR Mayor! They make aplets and cotlets there. If you don't know what they are, here's a website: &lt;a href="http://visitcashmere.com/"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="TEXT-DECORATION: underline;color:#bb3300;" &gt;http://visitcashmere.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;A long shot for sure since we have no plans to relocate.....&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="BACKGROUND: white"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:black;"&gt;But, Mayor for a Day in Lake Oswego......maybe for xxxx number of days in Cashmere?? As I can well attest: anything is possible!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-6183048064152295971?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/6183048064152295971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=6183048064152295971' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/6183048064152295971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/6183048064152295971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/06/mayor-v-queen-for-day.html' title='Mayor v Queen for a Day'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SFXy50dFqeI/AAAAAAAAAEE/33rWYxLHQcI/s72-c/Queen+for+a+Day.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-7366864368163464224</id><published>2008-06-13T14:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T14:58:46.647-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Father's Day Bugsy!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SFLsazQ-AnI/AAAAAAAAAD0/lIukwIWE42U/s1600-h/DSC00604.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211487664003220082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SFLsazQ-AnI/AAAAAAAAAD0/lIukwIWE42U/s320/DSC00604.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He's not my Dad. He's my husband. My Dad, Mr. Papa died just over 2 years ago. I celebrated him for years. But it's always good to celebrate the man in your life who is a great father. That's John. My view is definitely a bit one sided. But loving him for 28 years and watching him love his kids has taught me a lot about him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When we met he was legally separated and raising the kids by himself. He told me that he would do anything for his children, and he has. He has never complained, been bitter if they forgot to acknowledge him, expected anything from them because of what he gave them. He was a father's father. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Truly loves his children unconditionally. Much like Dead Rita loved us. I never saw that in Mr. Papa. His love was fairly conditional. But not John. It was one of the many reasons I fell big time for him. Most men I met then were selfish. Not a character trait I have ever seen in him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So happy Father's Day to my husband. You love well and try hard to be a good Dad. And doing your best is all you have to do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-7366864368163464224?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/7366864368163464224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=7366864368163464224' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/7366864368163464224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/7366864368163464224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/06/happy-fathers-day-bugsy.html' title='Happy Father&apos;s Day Bugsy!'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SFLsazQ-AnI/AAAAAAAAAD0/lIukwIWE42U/s72-c/DSC00604.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-2046741845882876584</id><published>2008-06-12T22:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T22:48:52.672-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dead Rita would have LOVED this!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SFIIIY6stkI/AAAAAAAAADs/oGd1nJOOdm0/s1600-h/twitter.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211236659041711682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SFIIIY6stkI/AAAAAAAAADs/oGd1nJOOdm0/s320/twitter.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today I began to Twitter. It's called one of the fastest-growing phenomena on the Internet by Time Magazine. I say, 'who knew!?' I'd heard about it and today a friend suggested I begin twittering. I think it's a bit similar to IMing, which I am pathetic at doing! (even my friends in Rwanda think so but are too polite to tell me!) I'll be working in Rwanda and someone sends me an IM. I can't seem to respond and I'll enter a pre written message like, "the answer is yes." I am seriously truly pathetic. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dead Rita was cool at 51. I'm 51 and by beginning to Twitter today it occured to me she was always doing things at whatever age she was that were currently happening in the world. She would have had a cell phone and twittered her grandchildren in Indiana. She loved technology. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I remember being 26 to her 51 and she kept up quite nicely. I wish she'd Twitter me. But then she'd be alive. No Book. No Dead Rita. OK by me! Instead, Rita's dead and I'll just wish she'd send me a Twitter...... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wouldn't it be great to get a Twitter from Heaven??!! What would that look like?? Probably wouldn't say, "&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HELL&lt;/strong&gt;-O&lt;/span&gt;!" She'd say, "Hiya Vits!" So there's a link on the blog now to Twitter me. Knock yourself out....and I hope I'll be able to do more than say, "The answer is yes!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pithy in 140 character or less. Good goal. Go to &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/"&gt;http://twitter.com&lt;/a&gt; to learn more.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-2046741845882876584?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/2046741845882876584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=2046741845882876584' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/2046741845882876584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/2046741845882876584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/06/dead-rita-would-have-loved-this.html' title='Dead Rita would have LOVED this!'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SFIIIY6stkI/AAAAAAAAADs/oGd1nJOOdm0/s72-c/twitter.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-7083829405417095096</id><published>2008-06-10T14:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T14:56:04.084-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Radioake ™</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SE73cNyW2MI/AAAAAAAAADk/Q3siNteiZ7k/s1600-h/iStock_000003428936XSmall%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210373883023513794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="155" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SE73cNyW2MI/AAAAAAAAADk/Q3siNteiZ7k/s320/iStock_000003428936XSmall%5B1%5D.jpg" width="191" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Friday night we went to see Jude at the Aladdin Theatre in Portland. Big night out for the folks!! I don't go to a lot of concerts. The biggest concert I ever remember attending was in &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;1976&lt;/span&gt; in Cincinnati Ohio to hear the Allman Brothers! I went with a guy I was dating who was seriously into drugs…and we stopped at a friend's house before the concert. The wife of his friend (whose nickname was HOOVER because she snorted cocaine so fast) and her husband accompanied us to the concert. I was miserable. We were at the top of the coliseum (or whatever the building was) in Cincinnati and everyone and I mean EVERYONE around me was seriously high. Except me. Didn't do drugs. Did drink a bit though. Wasn't a big Allman Bros. fan….but I digress. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Friday night's concert was nothing like that. Jude was great – I won tickets on KINK radio….I love winning things! We had a lovely dinner before the concert and sat and listened to this guy. But the audience was rude. Shouting out his songs just to be heard. "Asshole!" someone shouted. Turns out that was one of the songs!! They weren't heckling him but it got on our nerves. We listened to him for about an hour. People were singing along (they knew the words….) I was just listening. And I realized something about the way people sing. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;They're always better when they're singing along&lt;/em&gt;. Karaoke is not easy. I've watched a lot of people try it. I did see a staid Japanese businessman in Tokyo get up to do karaoke in a tempura house turn into Elvis right before my eyes…..maybe it was the Sapporo beer but he was fabulous!! Except for that moment in the 1980's in Tokyo, not so pretty. But so many of us can sing like professionals along with the radio or a live performer! I'm one of them! I'm a fabulous singer….with the radio blaring. I'm seriously (not) surprised I'm not asked to sing in a band. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When John and I were first dating, I'd sing every song on the radio. Every one. Really. Still do. Little harder to hum along on NPR… I can hear a song maybe once and know the lyrics. It's a gift, kind of useless except that it amuses me. John and I had been together for a few months and I was crooning along with Bette Midler singing "The Rose". He turned to me and said, "you have a great voice." No one had ever said that. I fell a little more in love with him in that very moment. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dead Rita in fact told me my voice wasn't so hot. Not being unkind. Just being Dead Rita – there's a great chapter in the book called "You're Flat" about the issue of my singing. And who do you know that loves you enough to tell you when you're flat in life….and when you're not. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyway, I realized Friday night I'm not a great karaoke singer but I'm a great RADIOAKE™ singer! My new word! I invented it! No such word for people who sing along with the radio! What do I do with this great invention??! Not a darn thing. But it's notable! Let me know if I didn't invent it…! And if you now know you can proudly call yourself a radioake™ singer, break a leg!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-7083829405417095096?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/7083829405417095096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=7083829405417095096' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/7083829405417095096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/7083829405417095096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/06/radioake.html' title='Radioake ™'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SE73cNyW2MI/AAAAAAAAADk/Q3siNteiZ7k/s72-c/iStock_000003428936XSmall%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-8593500870737083276</id><published>2008-06-03T11:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T15:53:01.701-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='RV9'/><title type='text'>Orville – move over!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SEWUawJH2VI/AAAAAAAAADc/WR5llmoe2P4/s1600-h/100_1087_edited.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207731731444521298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SEWUawJH2VI/AAAAAAAAADc/WR5llmoe2P4/s320/100_1087_edited.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;A very short but happy blog. If you read the last blog about a milestone, this one makes sense! Flight successful on 1 June 2008. Amazing. Enough said.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;(3 hours later....) ok - maybe that was too short.  The inspection went well by his test pilot and the plane flew like a bird!  John went up with the pilot and everything is excellent!  He will now need to fly 40 hours alone (or with an instructor) before he can take any passengers (like me!) up with him.  After he's flown it for awhile, it will then be painted.  I'll post any new pictures when it looks different. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-8593500870737083276?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/8593500870737083276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=8593500870737083276' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/8593500870737083276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/8593500870737083276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/06/orville-move-over.html' title='Orville – move over!'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SEWUawJH2VI/AAAAAAAAADc/WR5llmoe2P4/s72-c/100_1087_edited.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-7378705880480193528</id><published>2008-06-01T12:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T15:53:41.760-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='RV9'/><title type='text'>A milestone</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SEL4owJH2UI/AAAAAAAAADU/8CF7kY-pZSU/s1600-h/100_0865.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206997498195335490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SEL4owJH2UI/AAAAAAAAADU/8CF7kY-pZSU/s200/100_0865.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I love talking about dead people…..especially Rita. But today my mind is filled with a person whom I love like crazy. It is my beloved (and very much alive) husband, John "ScubaCat" Trabosh. Today, not far away in Hubbard, Oregon he is having his Van's Aircraft experimental RV9 airplane flown for the first time. He built this plane over the last 2 years. It's really ridiculous how incredible this feat is to me. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Not only in the fact that he did it, but truly the way he did it. Methodically, quietly, intelligently and passionately. The boy loves to fly. And if you have a pilot in your life and want to make their eyes glow, let them speak AT LENGTH about ailerons or intersection fairings or the empennage horizontal stabilizers or …….. WHA???? Whoo – hoo! I love my pilot and his passion. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The weather is overcast and drizzly today. He's hired a test pilot to take the initial flight. He'd do it but I sincerely believe he'd be so excited he could miss something. And the inaugural flight should not be the final flight…..so a better experienced pilot is a better solution. I am clearly not at the hangar for this momentous occasion. I tend to distract ScubaCat. And he doesn't need that….and I'm not interested in being ignored so here I sit. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But I want to celebrate the man the holds me dear and keeps me interested. We met in 1980 when I was a sweet young thing of 22….he was a very cool 40 year old trying to figure out how to raise his four children alone. I distracted him when he least was looking to be distracted. And we've been distracting each other ever since. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Congratulations my dearest friend and husband. And here's a quote that speaks to me for you and said in the year of your birth. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#000066;"&gt;You'll be bothered from time to time by storms, fog, snow. When you are, think of those who went through it before you, and say to yourself, 'What they could do, I can do.' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Antoine de Saint Exupéry, 'Wind, Sand and Stars' 1939.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I know you can do it. Much love to you, V&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0156970902/ref=nosim/greataviationquo" target="_top"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="TEXT-ALIGN: right" align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-7378705880480193528?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/7378705880480193528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=7378705880480193528' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/7378705880480193528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/7378705880480193528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/06/milestone.html' title='A milestone'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SEL4owJH2UI/AAAAAAAAADU/8CF7kY-pZSU/s72-c/100_0865.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-7725271774984077365</id><published>2008-05-28T23:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T00:19:43.903-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Leaving a Stain</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am outrageous. Outspoken. Irreverent. Shocking at times. Inspiring. Funny and often hilarious (just ask me!) But I listen deeply to others and while often quick to interrupt in my enthusiasm (sigh) I really get the power of words. All of the things I mention at the beginning of this blog are not an apology.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I PRAY that God has a sense of humor and I'm not going to get a major wuppin' when I reach the pearly gates. (not worried, but it does cross my mind….just like when I walk into a room where I'm expecting a lot of people and see signs of people (notebooks, coats, personal items, etc., but no people). I've often thought in the last 26 years of my Christianity, "UH-OH! Armageddon has started and I MISSED that initial 'all the good ones rise into heaven' moment'.") Note from blogger: any Christians out there reading this – no scripture lessons necessary – I get the real message…..so just smile with me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;This weekend I was recovering from some gum surgery. And this is a direct shout out to DEAD RITA&lt;em&gt;: &lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;thanks for those fabulous gums Mom!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; I've often looked at the medical issues my parents had, and while I'm healthy I go through that checklist on the medical sheets you fill out and check all those little boxes! History of almost all the deadly medical sins – diabetes, heart disease, high blood pressure, cancer (even BREAST cancer for a grandfather!) and the list goes on. No additions – I don't think either one had any time left for them!! Once I wrote at the bottom of the page: &lt;em&gt;This bloodline must be stopped!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;This gum surgery's a doozy and no fun. I was talking with someone this weekend and had little patience. (that's it – strip my gums and &lt;strong&gt;then&lt;/strong&gt; tell me I can't eat). Little tolerance was my M.O. I didn't tell this person how I truly felt because I knew I'd end up 'cleaning it up' later. I'd have to apologize for what I had said (true or not – because the spirit and tone of it would have been nasty).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;And in that reflection I had a moment with a new angel of a friend that makes me laugh and think. We met up for a bit on Sunday. She not only was good for my soul she made me laugh so hard I was afraid I blew some sutures out of my mouth. Talk about the agony and the ecstasy! As we discussed what I WANTED to say but had refrained, we had that whole "you're entitled" conversation. And I said, "no – I won't feel better – I'll have said something that would hurt in an unnecessary and calculated way AND I'd have to go clean it up."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;And then it hit me: words leave a stain that never goes away. You can scrub it (apologize); clean it (hope it eventually fades); and ignore it (and others wonder if you know what they see). Because some stains never truly fade. I don't want to stain people with words that hurt. I've definitely done it, and apologize if it's possible. But it's not always possible. And my words are the mark I leave. The mark you leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Just a thought about a stain.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-7725271774984077365?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/7725271774984077365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=7725271774984077365' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/7725271774984077365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/7725271774984077365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/05/leaving-stain.html' title='Leaving a Stain'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-3882978584754185666</id><published>2008-05-25T11:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T11:32:36.363-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Places to See Before I Die</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SDmwowJH2TI/AAAAAAAAADM/rOCjwBkXZT0/s1600-h/Places+to+See.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204385058567739698" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SDmwowJH2TI/AAAAAAAAADM/rOCjwBkXZT0/s200/Places+to+See.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I recently changed my homepage on &lt;span style="font-family:Artistic;"&gt;i&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0070c0;"&gt;G&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:yellow;"&gt;o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0070c0;"&gt;g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00b050;"&gt;l&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;e&lt;/span&gt; and took off all the news feeds. (BBC/CNN/WSJ) Although the BBC is one of my favorites – not limited to inane American newsflashes such as: &lt;span style="color:#00b050;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Superstar ****** seen leaving 7-11 with large Slurpee – what about the diet&lt;/strong&gt;??!!"&lt;/span&gt; , it's too much. I want to know what's going on but the news feeds distract me and don't inspire me. I get the WSJ and CNN Breaking newsflashes on email as well (they're about to bite the dust too) but enough is enough. I want to be inspired!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;What better way than to have added &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Places to See Before You Die&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; as a tab! Fantastic pictures of places I have been or want to have been keep popping up! Carnival in Venice; Shingo-La Pass, Lakakh, India; Pyramids of Gizeh, Cairo, Egypt; Trunk Bay, St. John, US Virgin Islands; Half Dome, Yosemite NP, California…you get the idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Two things come from this virtual stroll through the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;1). I am grateful for the amount of travel I have had in the world. And how often I am pleasantly surprised to see a place I &lt;em&gt;have been&lt;/em&gt; and can now add to the "it's ok to die now" side of the list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;2). I love the fact that the world is so diverse and beautiful – and I am motivated to work – knowing that by being successful I will have the chance to visit all of the places that intrigue me, or return to those places that bring me joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Information overload is overrated. I get the news often enough through the paper and NPR radio that I'm truly enjoying my refreshed iGoogle home page. I've also noticed when I've traveled with very little English speaking TV available, I can usually get CNN The World. They cover the news of the world and if I try to get too much, I'm suddenly watching the same news stories two hours later. There's only so much that's truly newsworthy – and well covered, it doesn't have to take over my day (or screen). Now back to my regularly scheduled Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-3882978584754185666?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/3882978584754185666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=3882978584754185666' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/3882978584754185666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/3882978584754185666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/05/places-to-see-before-i-die.html' title='Places to See Before I Die'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SDmwowJH2TI/AAAAAAAAADM/rOCjwBkXZT0/s72-c/Places+to+See.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-5513911391855237596</id><published>2008-05-18T10:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T10:53:48.973-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Take Your Art to the World blog'/><title type='text'>Looking back at the last 30 years</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SDBrfn7fJOI/AAAAAAAAADE/T8RUAEY-KMM/s1600-h/Saffron+threads.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201775760651527394" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SDBrfn7fJOI/AAAAAAAAADE/T8RUAEY-KMM/s200/Saffron+threads.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I purposely don't spend a lot of time looking back. When I was in high school, I used to talk about the past all the time. And a great friend of mine named Tom whom I respected once looked at me impatiently and said, "Vicky you spend all your time talking about the past! Think about the future!" And with that, I was done looking at the past. But this week was an exception.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Back to the past. I spent four days in Ft. Wayne this week to attend my nephew's graduation from IUPU at Ft. Wayne in their fine arts program. Josh is the one that inspired me to begin this blog – to showcase Dead Rita and her wisdom. (That previous blog is the first one in April 2008 titled Take Your Art to the World.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I don't go back to Ft. Wayne, Indiana much. It's a great place to be from, but I wanted out of Ft. Wayne since I was about 10. Mr. Papa was from New York City and I have a New York state of mind. My goal was to get to New York….I made it as far as Cleveland when I married John and then we ricocheted to the West Coast when we moved to Oregon in 1982. Still love living in Oregon but I also feel whole and as if I'm home when I walk down the streets of New York. Ft. Wayne, not so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;But I would go there anytime to see my brother and his family. As I sat in the Memorial Coliseum Wednesday night and watched Josh graduate, I went back to 1981 when I sat in the same coliseum and graduated from the same school with a degree in business, major in accounting. John and I had not married – that would happen 3 months later. But he was there, sitting with Dead Rita and Mr. Papa, watching. He had graduated college years earlier and he came from Cleveland to watch his young fiancé get her diploma. He later said to me, "Vic, you talked through the WHOLE thing!" I've always felt bad about that. Like I'd done something wrong. But sitting there in the stands, I noticed EVERYBODY was talking during the dutiful reading of 1,500 + graduates! (except when Josh's name was called and we cheered like maniacs!) Even all of the professors and heads of the departments on stage! "HA!" I thought! There was nothing wrong with me talking 27 years ago! That alone was worth the price of admission (free – but that's not the point!) I called John on my cell phone back in Oregon during the reading of the names to tell him that I was sitting in the same coliseum where he had watched me 27 years earlier graduate and BY THE WAY – EVERYONE is talking so HA! (he laughed, told me he loved me). &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My life flooded back over me and I was again amazed at this journey and where it has lead. I always tell young people don't even try to guess where you'll be in 20 years….you'll be wrong. Never in a million years would I have guessed we'd move to Oregon less than a year after I'd married. That I'd NOT become a CPA but instead reach goals beyond my imagination. That 27 years later I would not regret marrying a man with 4 teenagers but instead would revel in the joy this family would bring to my life. That I would return to Ft. Wayne to watch my brother's eldest son graduate in a field that Dead Rita had encouraged him to pursue, and that yes indeedy, he was taking his art to the world! That Rita and Mr. Papa would both be dead and it would matter deeply to me that they were no longer present to share these milestone moments.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I raced home to Oregon Thursday eveing so that I could speak Friday morning in one the most important speeches I have given to date. Not for its content, but for its audience. I had the joy of speaking at the conference for the Guardian/Conservator Association Conference, the organization that I co-founded 20 years ago and served as its first President. Another look back.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My work as a guardian/conservator was born from a desire to be at home with the kids after we moved to Oregon. Teenagers appear to me to need some supervision. And my personal big dream at the time of becoming a CPA would have to wait. It's still waiting. I needed something to do that would be meaningful but keep me close to home. That business, which began in 1983 and closed in 2000 significantly altered my life's work and gave me wisdom and knowledge that serves as a clear thread to today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And the image of saffron threads comes to mind. They are so fine and delicate….and yet they dramatically affect the flavor of any recipe. Saffron comes from the saffron crocus. It takes 75,000 blossoms or 225, 000 hand-picked stigmas to make a single pound of saffron which explains why it is the world's most expensive spice. It takes so little to make add a significant flavor in a dish. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And so it is with our life. It's the little things. The ability to look at the past and see those seemingly insignificant moments in retrospect that give meaning to today. It was a wonderful week. And not just because I got to spend time with my brother and his family. Or that I got to see old friends and new faces of those who want to make a profound difference in the lives of the elderly who are most vulnerable. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But because I remembered once again that our future is profoundly shaped by our past. And it takes away the fear of what the future holds. I was never right before about where the present would lead and I am certain that is not changing! But for now, it's back to the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-5513911391855237596?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/5513911391855237596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=5513911391855237596' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/5513911391855237596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/5513911391855237596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/05/looking-back-at-last-30-years.html' title='Looking back at the last 30 years'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SDBrfn7fJOI/AAAAAAAAADE/T8RUAEY-KMM/s72-c/Saffron+threads.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-2371737938553269807</id><published>2008-05-10T15:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-10T15:37:15.375-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Mother's Day Mini-me.  You complete me.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SCYjcbaEMBI/AAAAAAAAAC8/FKevXUw-mA0/s1600-h/Rita+Mae+Clark+Hoering.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198881791146209298" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SCYjcbaEMBI/AAAAAAAAAC8/FKevXUw-mA0/s200/Rita+Mae+Clark+Hoering.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;It seems as though 10 years should be long enough to mourn. Long enough to lessen the feeling of loss. Long enough to stop thinking of someone almost, if not every, day. But it's not. Not in my experience. But that is not really about the loss. It is about the love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I loved Dead Rita so richly, so completely, so well. And she returned the favor. I loved Mr. Papa also very deeply….but he has only been gone a bit over two years and he is not present with me the way she continues to be. And those are just the facts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;When Dr. Evil looks at Mini-me and says, "Mini-me, you complete me" in Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me (1999) I laugh out loud. No surprise. I live out loud. And in that silliness of that line, I realize Dead Rita was my Mini-me – she completed me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;And I am not alone in feeling completed by another human being. That is just what happens when any two people are simpatico. That is just the easiest of relationships in our lives. But by far not the only one or sometimes even what we need. I would guess if I needed Dead Rita to be alive, she wouldn't be dead. And then I wouldn't be calling her Dead Rita. (and &lt;em&gt;Live Rita's Wisdom&lt;/em&gt; just wouldn't be as interesting!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I think of Mother's Day in a selfish manner. No Mother to celebrate and cherish. As a stepmother, it's always been a hard day. Some of my kids remember me on that day, others don't. And that is truly ok. I'm not their mom. I am their stepmother. And I have loved them all deeply for 27 years. They know that. They know that I know they know that. And that's good enough for me. Yet I look for deeper meaning in this life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Then last night my perspective was once more broadened and I am richer for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Last night I heard Stephen Lewis, former Canadian Ambassador and UN Special Envoy for HIV/AIDS in Africa. He founded and is now working for an international advocacy agency organization, AIDS-Free World. The subject was the AIDS pandemic and its truly unspeakable and unbelievable affect on the children of Africa. About the strain children in Africa often feel to survive. About the daily challenges of living that we as Americans can rarely, if ever, imagine. About how a child In Africa struggles to understand how their mother could die before their eyes from the ravages of AIDS. And they may be the only one to see it or care. The facts and figures of this work cannot be written here….it's too much. But we must become aware of how there is a subterranean racism that allows the world to turn its back on AIDS in Africa – and yet we can afford to spend billions on a war in Iraq. Become more educated by looking at Stephen Lewis' site: &lt;a href="http://aids-freeworld.org/"&gt;http://aids-freeworld.org/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;And what does this have to do with my Mother's Day message? Everything. All of us become children once again when our Mother dies. Sometimes for a moment, sometimes for a lifetime. Grief is so personal. So private. And yet we feel another's pain if we are watching with our soul. I listened last night with my soul. I felt the grief of a child losing their mother that didn't have to be. That a motherless child is never the same. We must look at what is happening around the world with the AIDS pandemic, especially in Africa and choose to do more. It is our responsibility and our ability that will lead to answers. Don't wait for governments or celebrities to fix this. You choose to help, in any way you find most empowering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;To any of you who read this and are now a motherless child, you are acknowledged. If your mother completed you, how fortunate you are. If you are completed by another person living or dead, be wise to that. And if you have not had that experience of being completed by another, consider that you may complete someone else through who you are to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Happy Mother's Day, to the mothered and the motherless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-2371737938553269807?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/2371737938553269807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=2371737938553269807' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/2371737938553269807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/2371737938553269807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/05/happy-mothers-day-mini-me-you-complete.html' title='Happy Mother&apos;s Day Mini-me.  You complete me.'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SCYjcbaEMBI/AAAAAAAAAC8/FKevXUw-mA0/s72-c/Rita+Mae+Clark+Hoering.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-5277500285802676647</id><published>2008-05-03T16:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T16:23:45.503-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hope and light'/><title type='text'>Unexpectedly Grateful</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SBzz8e-7tbI/AAAAAAAAAC0/LQe9QcRSbYA/s1600-h/Hope+and+Light.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196296290513434034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SBzz8e-7tbI/AAAAAAAAAC0/LQe9QcRSbYA/s200/Hope+and+Light.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I do not know what came over me today. The weather is crappy. I have a ton of things to do. And I was just down. John and I went out to lunch and I was itching for…not a fight…but an opportunity to be discontented.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Smart man: he didn't play into it. Then we came home, I took out one of my famous 50/50 pies (half blueberry/half cherry with a pie fence crust and lattice top) – (really, I should patent these babies!) and then to the grocery to get things tonight to take to a friend's home for dinner and items for a dinner tomorrow night to host some people who are headed to Rwanda at the end of May.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;After a lovely shopping experience of all things fresh and organic, we sat while I had a coffee at New Seasons. I was watching people, thinking about their lives, what their story might be. A woman at least my age found a table and tentatively looked at a job application for the grocery store. She looked so damn tired. And I thought how difficult her life must be – she had that energy. And I rarely feel sorry for anyone, but I felt sorry for her. And I thought I'm tired too, but I'm sure it's different for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dead Rita was always "tired tired tired" as she would say. And she looked at her life in many ways as not being the life she wanted. And as I thought about my life and all of the demands on me that &lt;em&gt;I&lt;/em&gt; have created, none of that is true for me. &lt;em&gt;This&lt;/em&gt; is the life I want. &lt;em&gt;I &lt;/em&gt;have created all of these demands. There is nothing - &lt;em&gt;nothing&lt;/em&gt; I am doing that I do not choose to do. And in that revelation, in that moment, I looked at my beloved husband and was overcome with a sense of gratefulness for the life I have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;A far cry from the discontent I had felt only an hour earlier. And as I write this I go from grateful to empowered. And my thought becomes: bring – it – on! Bring on the challenges, the opportunities, the failures, the success. And I'm reminded that I can create an amazing life full of moments of discontent and moments of gratefulness. And that's a good day for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-5277500285802676647?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/5277500285802676647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=5277500285802676647' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/5277500285802676647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/5277500285802676647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/05/unexpectedly-grateful.html' title='Unexpectedly Grateful'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SBzz8e-7tbI/AAAAAAAAAC0/LQe9QcRSbYA/s72-c/Hope+and+Light.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-343582657302105198</id><published>2008-05-02T07:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T08:08:46.014-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dead rita'/><title type='text'>The End of my Jubilee Year</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SBst8e-7taI/AAAAAAAAACs/Faj_zzgijRs/s1600-h/Queen+Victoria.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195797112234423714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SBst8e-7taI/AAAAAAAAACs/Faj_zzgijRs/s200/Queen+Victoria.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;It's amazing that as humble as Dead Rita's beginnings were, she named a daughter in 1957 after Queen Victoria! And I've always known it. I knew that Victoria meant victorious. I knew that Queen meant Queen. And I cozied up to it! And she never called me &lt;em&gt;VICTORIA DIANE!&lt;/em&gt; when I was in trouble. Not that I got in that much trouble. A pretty good kid….and when I wasn't good, I kept it quiet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I've always felt an expectation to succeed. In many families it is spoken. In mine, it was understood. And so I met and exceeded Dead Rita's expectations and mine as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;One of the great things Dead Rita did was celebrate her family. My birthday is May 31&lt;sup&gt;st&lt;/sup&gt;. In the 'good old days' Memorial Day was always the 30&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; of May. So we would always go to the Memorial Day Parade. And I always imagined it was a parade for me! (no illusions of grandeur there!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;We'd celebrate my BD on the 30&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt;. And then on the 31&lt;sup&gt;st&lt;/sup&gt; I'd celebrate AGAIN. I eventually (and still ) grew to celebrate my birthday the entire month of May! But I'm tough: it ends promptly at midnight on May 31&lt;sup&gt;st&lt;/sup&gt;. June celebrations for me lack that 'birthday' feel. But any and all events in May are sanctioned. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Last May 31&lt;sup&gt;st&lt;/sup&gt; I turned 50 and declared it my Jubilee Year – 50&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; year celebration just like….wait for it….the QUEEN! It was a good year! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I went to Rwanda, loved my family, grew my business and most importantly, wrote Dead Rita's Wisdom. It's done and now it's in the rewrite stage. I'm very excited about it and sharing her wisdom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;A strong part of her was celebrating those she loved. I strive to do the same. I love giving someone a round of applause - literally or figuratively. So let's hear it for the little victories. The overcoming of unbelievable obstacles. The joy of the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;And the importance of sharing wisdom. That must be celebrated. And so as I prepare to enter my &lt;em&gt;Jubilee più un&lt;/em&gt;, may I not forget to celebrate – for myself and others. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-343582657302105198?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/343582657302105198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=343582657302105198' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/343582657302105198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/343582657302105198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/05/end-of-my-jubilee-year.html' title='The End of my Jubilee Year'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SBst8e-7taI/AAAAAAAAACs/Faj_zzgijRs/s72-c/Queen+Victoria.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-456114315915620348</id><published>2008-04-29T20:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T21:04:15.343-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr. Papa'/><title type='text'>My email is ringing off the hook</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SBfvr--7tZI/AAAAAAAAACk/dvo2FkwDlIk/s1600-h/Ringing+off+the+hook.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194884234115528082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SBfvr--7tZI/AAAAAAAAACk/dvo2FkwDlIk/s200/Ringing+off+the+hook.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;No matter the businesses I run or companies I've worked for, I always hear the phone ring. It's my baby's cry. Now my phone doesn't ring much. There are definitely calls: My clients call. I call people. I check for messages. But it's not the volume – the fistful of messages I would be handed when I walk into my office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;After Rita died, Mr. Papa used to call me EVERYDAY work day at 9am to see what I was doing. How my sales were going. What I had planned. I loved the sound of his voice. Even when he had the stroke and couldn't speak, my phone rang at 9am and I heard "AAAAAAARRRGGGGH!!!" &lt;em&gt;"Mr. Papa????" &lt;/em&gt;"RAAAGGGHGH!" LOVE that! And he regained his voice and it was a wonderful part of my life until he died. I miss those calls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Pesky sales people call. And they're not listening! (I always answer my phone, "good morning/afternoon…..Vicky Trabosh". And then a sales person will say: "Is Vicky Trabosh available?" And I calmly answer "no she isn't".) Unbelievable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;But I love the ring of my phone. I miss talking with people. And yet I'm in demand. But it's my email that is ringing off the hook!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Loving that? Not so much. So sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I miss talking with people. And I'll admit, I get some unbelievably great emails! But the volume is crushing. Because in the midst of the dump that has become my inbox, lie beautiful flowers….those flowers are emails full of wisdom, humor, pathos, important stuff!!! And sometimes I just miss them! Too much! I swear it's almost rolling by! I can't keep up. I'm out for a few hours, 50 new emails download!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;And in different languages too! I speak Russian – but I can't read the Russian junk for enhancement products (which is ok)….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Making appointments with people I truly want to see over email can become excruciatingly painful. Back and forth, back and forth, back and…..then I can fall off the email train!! I hate that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;You want a piece of me??! Call me. (As soon as you get done reading my blog which was just delivered courtesy of your email or internet.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-456114315915620348?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/456114315915620348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=456114315915620348' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/456114315915620348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/456114315915620348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/04/my-email-is-ringing-off-hook.html' title='My email is ringing off the hook'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SBfvr--7tZI/AAAAAAAAACk/dvo2FkwDlIk/s72-c/Ringing+off+the+hook.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-3672989620964702705</id><published>2008-04-27T09:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T09:53:30.967-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Clinton'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='itafari'/><title type='text'>Click!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SBStm--7tYI/AAAAAAAAACc/CJQtnptVuO0/s1600-h/Puzzle+piece+from+istock.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193967155518616962" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SBStm--7tYI/AAAAAAAAACc/CJQtnptVuO0/s200/Puzzle+piece+from+istock.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Click. That's the sound I love when I'm working on a puzzle and find a piece that had been eluding me. It's a very satisfying sound. I'm highly aware of the sounds of my world. Music. Laughter. Conversation. The roar of approval. The echoing of applause. The emotion of a sob. The beauty of silence. To choose blindness or deafness, I would choose to be blind. (and while I KNOW you're listening God, this is not a request). &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My life and my work are a huge puzzle to me. And that's exactly the feeling I have when something doesn't happen that I know will happen. So when that knowing becomes a being….there is a satisfying clicking noise. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;That happened yesterday after my conversation with President Bill Clinton. I've been circling him for a couple of years ever since I became interested in Rwanda. Wouldn't it be great, I thought, to meet him and let him know about the work of Itafari! His current work in Rwanda is equally impressive as was his lack of interest in the genocide in 1994, when he was President. He freely and regretfully admits ignoring the genocide was the single biggest mistake of his presidency. He has vowed to make it up for the rest of his life. And I sincerely believe, so far, so good! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;In the last two years, I've had a few close calls. When I was in New York in April 2006 to speak at the U.N., I was supposed to meet with one of Clinton's top fundraisers. At the last minute, he had to go to Boston, meeting canceled. Adam Bacher, who took the pictures on our last trip to Rwanda has met him and shared with him the story of Itafari. When Clinton came to Portland last year to speak at the World Affairs Council International Speakers Series, I was given a ticket. I KNEW I would meet him then! And as I sat in a choice seat in the balcony, I realized I was wrong. And it was on the drive home that I had absolute peace that it wasn't meant to be. And that was ok. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I don't believe that the work we do in Rwanda is at all about one person, one key player. Itafari is the opposite. It is about the ordinary man and woman accomplishing the extraordinary. But I absolutely believe in extraordinary moments. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in one of those extraordinary moments, a wonderful friend, Marilyn, spoke about me and Itafari to one of Clinton's people, Dan, who was in Portland prior to Clinton's visit to stump for Hillary this weekend. He said he would &lt;em&gt;try&lt;/em&gt; to get me an opportunity to meet the President. Another long shot. I was hopeful but not overly so. Then yesterday at 2:45pm I spoke to Dan. "Can you be at Oregon City High School between 4-5pm today?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yesterday I stood with nine other people to privately greet him before he spoke to the hopeful at Oregon City High School. And when he greeted me, I greeted him. With thanks, for his work in the world that is changing lives. Especially the lives of those in Rwanda. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I hope he found me as memorable as I found him. He graciously acknowledged from the podium the dignitaries in attendance that I'd stood with to greet him. And then he spoke of meeting me – I know it was because anyone who is doing good work in the world reminds him of his desire to change the world, and he truly loves Rwanda. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Everywhere I go in Rwanda I see signs of his desire to give back. He is honored in Rwanda and makes me proud to be an American when I am there. He travels there quietly – they're not press junkets. He goes in, confers with those that lead his efforts, and gets back out. The Clinton Foundation is a mighty force for changing the world. &lt;a href="http://clintonfoundation.org/"&gt;http://clintonfoundation.org/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;And we'll see what meeting him will eventually mean for Itafari. I was not overcome with joy….but I heard that satisfying clicking noise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;For the same reasons I want to meet Oprah and Bono. Click. Click.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;And Bette Midler to talk with her about Dead Rita – the book! Click.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;And Ricardo Moltalban because I have had a crush on him for 35 years. (I've not defined that noise yet….it could be a squeal.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-3672989620964702705?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/3672989620964702705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=3672989620964702705' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/3672989620964702705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/3672989620964702705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/04/another-piece-of-puzzle.html' title='Click!'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SBStm--7tYI/AAAAAAAAACc/CJQtnptVuO0/s72-c/Puzzle+piece+from+istock.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-994869173342160796</id><published>2008-04-24T17:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T17:34:12.137-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Power of One Word….or Many!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span xmlns=''&gt;&lt;p&gt;I talked at 9 months.  It took almost 2 years to learn to walk!  I've been talking and walking ever since.  And I like the idea of walking my talk.  And this just got silly!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But today and this week I have been thinking more than usual about the power of my words and the words of others.  Over the weekend in Portland a very distraught man stood on the edge of the balcony at the Marriott Waterfront Hotel and was finally talked "down" after 15 hours!  Useless people on the ground suggested he just jump.  I can't remember the last time I called someone useless but I sincerely mean it.  Luckily, the man who was so distraught was smarter than the fools on the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But it took 15 hours.  I don't know what was said but I believe that the power of many words can finally get through one pure, necessary thought to make sense of something or anything that makes no sense prior to the words.   We must talk.  We must share what we know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And sometimes it's just one word.  This morning at Toastmasters, the table topic was from understanding how a single word could help us solve a problem.  A Rune stone was chosen, the symbol was interpreted and then the speaker was asked to discuss their issue from the meaning of their stone.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I was thinking about my issue of time.  I don't have enough.  To work on finishing up Dead Rita's Wisdom.  To get new coaching clients.  Work on the Itafari Foundation.  Speak at events.  Love and be with my family, especially John.  Work out. Etc. etc. etc.  And my symbol stood for "flow".  And I talked about flow versus balance.  And that it is flow that I need.  Balance doesn't interest me.  I want it all and I want to find the flow to get it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;One word.  The word 'one'.  It's one of the last things Dead Rita said to me before she became dead.  I was caring for her and she looked up at me and said, "you know Vic, we are one."  And I said, "I know Mom."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Who knows when my next profound moment will come.  My next problem solved.  But I know it's going to involve words….maybe one…..maybe many.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-994869173342160796?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/994869173342160796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=994869173342160796' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/994869173342160796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/994869173342160796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/04/power-of-one-wordor-many.html' title='The Power of One Word….or Many!'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-2638764400020050335</id><published>2008-04-20T20:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T12:09:36.224-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dead rita'/><title type='text'>Oh, how you will delight the angels</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAwPPp8s0xI/AAAAAAAAACQ/-H-JvdoEIaE/s1600-h/Babette%27s+Feast+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191541232084243218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 175px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 92px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="128" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAwPPp8s0xI/AAAAAAAAACQ/-H-JvdoEIaE/s200/Babette%27s+Feast+2.jpg" width="221" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span xmlns=""&gt;She comes up at the strangest of moments, my Dead Rita. Today we watched one of our favorite movies, Babette's Feast. Winner of the 1988 Best Foreign Language Film. My first food film. And also a beautiful story that for years we have been meaning to watch again. The scene that I remember the best was the end where Babette serves a pious community a french meal the likes they (nor I) have ever seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Babette is a woman who fled France during in the 19&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; century and took refuge in a remote village of Frederikshavn in Denmark. She works for two sisters for 14 years until finally she wins a lottery from a ticket that a friend had been buying for her for years in Paris. All of these years in this somber and quiet community in the village of Frederikshavn, her gift as a chef had been hidden. And then she prepares the Feast. Everything changes for the small group of 12 for whom she prepares this meal. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tonight the last lines of the movie struck me as another piece of the puzzle regarding Dead Rita. When you read my book you may be dismayed at some of the tragedy of her life. I certainly was. Yet I have never believed, nor wanted to believe, hers was a life wasted. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The following lines of the movie could have been spoken by me to her, and then her response. And I am wiser for this lesson. She was a great artist; one I never believed was able to shine. I am beginning to believe I was wrong. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Here are the lines: &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You should not have given all you owned for us. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;It was not just for you. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Now you'll be poor the rest of your life. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;An artist is never poor. Throughout the world sounds one long cry from the heart of an artist. Give me the chance to do my very best. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;But this is not the end, Babette. I'm certain it is not. In Paradise you be will be a great artist that God meant you to be. Oh, how you will delight the angels. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I heard something in these words tonight. The first time I saw the movie Dead Rita was still just Mom. But the movie has haunted me since we first saw it in the late '80s. There was always a message in here for me that Dead Rita's life was not poor. Not given at her expense. But given with delight and given because that's all she knew to do. In fact, was made magnificent in spite of its humble surroundings of her circumstances and experiences. I am certain you are delighting the angels my dearest Dead Rita.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-2638764400020050335?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/2638764400020050335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=2638764400020050335' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/2638764400020050335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/2638764400020050335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/04/oh-how-you-will-delight-angels.html' title='Oh, how you will delight the angels'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAwPPp8s0xI/AAAAAAAAACQ/-H-JvdoEIaE/s72-c/Babette%27s+Feast+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-2074472188825045881</id><published>2008-04-20T13:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T09:22:02.148-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='itafari'/><title type='text'>The 40 Goat Haircut</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAupe58s0uI/AAAAAAAAABw/n05ecoA4KX8/s1600-h/Imported+Photos+00224.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191429343891215074" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAupe58s0uI/AAAAAAAAABw/n05ecoA4KX8/s200/Imported+Photos+00224.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I do love to shop. Dead Rita and I often used retail therapy. When I lived in Ft. Wayne, we'd fly or drive to Chicago to go shopping for the weekend. This was the late '70s. I worked while going to school full time and lived at home. I had some discretionary income, but nowhere near the amount I spent. I applied for, and received waay too many credit cards. Lord &amp;amp; Taylor, Saks Fifth Avenue, Marshall Fields…..plus Diners Club, Mastercard, Visa….ridiculous amounts of credit. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;On one visit, Dead Rita and I were headed to Chicago with my cards and I called Lord &amp;amp; Taylor to ask what my shiny new card's limit was. This formal male voice looked up my information and say in a serious tone, "you can shop without fear of impunity." I thanked him in an equally formal tone and after I pulled out my dictionary to find out the definition of "impunity", I was off and charging. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Over 30 years later I still enjoy a good trip to a fine store, but Rwanda has changed everything. I fear impunity! I still get to buy beautiful things – designer pieces – beauty for beauty's sake. But on the graph of my shopping habits, the trend is definitely in a downward slope from my previous charts. That said, I was so stunned at an article I read in the last few days I decided to write to the editor – but it's hitting my blog first! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I just received the May 2008 issue of &lt;em&gt;Marie Claire&lt;/em&gt; magazine. &lt;a href="http://www.marieclaire.com/"&gt;http://www.marieclaire.com/&lt;/a&gt; I'm not sure of the demographics they're trying to reach, but a pithy 50 year old white woman has a subscription. I like the mag! Good articles. But one caught my eye in the Beauty Section: page 168 title: Why Does this Haircut COST $1000? By Julia Scirrotto. Why indeed thought I ??!! And I figured it out. YOU DON'T GET WHAT YOU DESERVE: YOU GET WHAT YOU NEGOTIATE! One of my favorite expressions for my coaching clients! And beauty maven and Dove stylist Gretchen Monahan has negotiated that price to receive a haircut and consultation from her and according to the article, "overachievers (named-but I'm not trying to be a mean girl here so no names) are banging down her door". &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;But here's the thing: while the writer Julia Scirrotto looked lovely after her 'do, she's that way anyway – she could have a Captain Jean-Luc Picard (portrayed by Patrick Stewart in the Star Trek TV series) haircut and look good! Nope. I can't see it. The cost. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Because in my world, you can buy FORTY GOATS from the Itafari Foundation for $1,000! We provide these goats for Child Headed Households through our program. &lt;a href="http://itafari.org/"&gt;http://itafari.org/&lt;/a&gt; Such a deal! Saving lives, empowering children, rebuilding a country OR a good hair day (and honestly – I'd need to be stopped by strangers who would gasp in disbelief and say "WHERE did you get that haircut!!???")…..give me a second…..AND THE WINNER IS…………..IHENE (goats) for everyone!! I'll wear a scarf. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Great hair is great. My haircuts and color can run a few goats. I can measure everything in the value of goats. I night in a 5 star hotel, depending on where it is in the world, can range from five goats to hundreds of goats. Pick your product/service. It's divisible by goat. It's about choice. And I choose to say it's not ok to depict this as a fantasy goal for a woman. But I also choose to believe that women who can afford a $1000 haircut, and the stylist herself, use their money to change the world as well. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Maybe someday I'll write about my six goat updo I got at The Plaza in New York a few years ago that made me look like a turtle. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;To see Captain Picard song music video: &lt;a href="http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=8489575706754651138&amp;amp;q=&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=8489575706754651138&amp;amp;q=&amp;amp;hl=en&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-2074472188825045881?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/2074472188825045881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=2074472188825045881' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/2074472188825045881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/2074472188825045881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/04/40-goat-haircut.html' title='The 40 Goat Haircut'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAupe58s0uI/AAAAAAAAABw/n05ecoA4KX8/s72-c/Imported+Photos+00224.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-4176165611347568905</id><published>2008-04-20T09:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T13:41:54.932-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='choices'/><title type='text'>I Dreamt of Rwanda</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAt9758s0sI/AAAAAAAAABk/DwpnodMbHUA/s1600-h/Imported+Photos+00376.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191381463595799234" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAt9758s0sI/AAAAAAAAABk/DwpnodMbHUA/s200/Imported+Photos+00376.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAt8Ap8s0rI/AAAAAAAAABc/E05rZX7MuuE/s1600-h/DSC01195.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;In this dream John and I had just arrived….and would only be there for HOURS. So much to do – so many people to see. I think we had traveled through France, a new route for me. We were tired but I was exhilarated. I visited with Joy first and was figuring out how many baskets I could bring back in our luggage. Then I was preparing to draw a bath and all of these people with whom I work came to say hello. Par for me, I knew their faces and not their names! We greeted each other with such happiness. I don't know that I've ever been elsewhere in the world where I most completely see reflected in the faces of the people I meet, my own feelings and emotions, as I do in my friends in Rwanda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;With only hours to work, I began. And then I awoke. I have plenty of stress dreams. This was not one of them. There was no stress. Total completeness in being in Rwanda. I clearly miss it. And I won't be back until the Fall. It's always choices.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;At home I have an equally compelling and attractive source of joy: John. He wants me to cut down on my visits to Rwanda. I understand, honor him, and have fully said "yego" to his request. It is a terribly good problem I have to face. I am passionate about so many things that are in my life. Life is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Each night when I would put Mom down to rest after she could no longer care for herself, after we'd done the nightly ritual and discussed if I would be home the next day to be her primary caregiver (we lived for weekends and THURSDAYS)….we'd look at each other and say, "life is hard, but life is good." It was only after she died that I realized we hadn't truly found the right words. It always should have been, "life is hard, but God is good."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So much going on. Looking for a publisher/agent for Dead Rita's Wisdom. Running my business. Growing Itafari Foundation one brick at a time. Finding avenues for speaking engagements to motivate and inspire those who want more. Getting in shape to make this journey a healthy one. And finally, living an authentic life as a woman, wife, parent and grandparent, friend and family member, that reflects my faith, my zest, and my passion for making a difference wherever I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'll take the dream. It was so joyous. I was there in the moment of my dream. Until I set foot in Rwanda again, I will remember the dream that I have for this country and especially for the people there who come to me in my dreams. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-4176165611347568905?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/4176165611347568905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=4176165611347568905' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/4176165611347568905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/4176165611347568905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-dreamt-of-rwanda.html' title='I Dreamt of Rwanda'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAt9758s0sI/AAAAAAAAABk/DwpnodMbHUA/s72-c/Imported+Photos+00376.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-889563399584081023</id><published>2008-04-17T14:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T13:44:37.774-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='success'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fitness'/><title type='text'>Get Fit for the Journey</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAfKgHEDuoI/AAAAAAAAABU/25jgeS5t4pU/s1600-h/Dan+the+Man.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190339748568480386" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAfKgHEDuoI/AAAAAAAAABU/25jgeS5t4pU/s200/Dan+the+Man.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I've loved this man since the day he was born. He's my brother (and he AIN'T heavy!) Today I had the chance to listen to Dan on a conference call about fitness. He's been seriously working out for 30+ years. He's 45, looks 35, and has a passion for keeping people healthy like few people I've ever met.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;On this call I listened to give him feedback on how he could improve his message. I'm a really tough coach, extremely hard on family, and he wasn't crazy about me listening in. But he gave me the call in number – too late!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I was not expecting to be impressed. And I wasn't. I was bowled over!! He was amazing! As a Fitness Coach he walks/runs/squats his talk. It's wonderful to listen to someone speak of their passion in a way that there is no doubt that they're doing what they were meant to do. That's Dan. He is The MAN. He coaches in person and on the phone. I recommend him for your fitness needs. And don't wonder if this is a nepotism thing. I'm doing it in spite of the fact that we're related.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;His website: &lt;a href="http://www.fitnessintraining.com/"&gt;www.fitnessintraining.com/&lt;/a&gt; and yes, that's him in the picture. Wonderful job Dan – I wish you &lt;em&gt;continued &lt;/em&gt;success – you've earned it and you deserve it. Dead Rita would be SO proud!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Much love, your big Sister, Vic&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-889563399584081023?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/889563399584081023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=889563399584081023' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/889563399584081023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/889563399584081023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/04/get-fit-for-journey.html' title='Get Fit for the Journey'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAfKgHEDuoI/AAAAAAAAABU/25jgeS5t4pU/s72-c/Dan+the+Man.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-3853009863154107211</id><published>2008-04-17T10:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T13:44:06.557-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='feed or starve'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cancer'/><title type='text'>Feeding a Cancer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAeUDHEDunI/AAAAAAAAABM/FWWiLxJfIGI/s1600-h/Bags+of+Sugar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190279876724374130" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAeUDHEDunI/AAAAAAAAABM/FWWiLxJfIGI/s320/Bags+of+Sugar.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Last night on TV we were watching OPB's Truth About Cancer with Linda Ellerbee. I've seen a lot of cancer due to my work as a guardian/conservator for the elderly for 18 years and then my up close and personal walk through it with Dead Rita. I also heard Dr. Kelley Reis, Naturopathic Physician &lt;a href="http://hillsboronaturalmedicine.com/"&gt;http://hillsboronaturalmedicine.com/&lt;/a&gt; speak on the subject this last Sunday at Nancy Thompson's Flourish Salon. &lt;a href="http://flourish-pdx.com/"&gt;http://flourish-pdx.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;The show and Dr. Reis talked about the causes of cancer and certain treatment(s). But what I knew and found interesting to have confirmed was about how cancer cells are actually fed or starved by their environment. Dr. Reis talked about how refined sugars can be a factor in feeding cancerous cells. I read recently how fasting kills diseased cells and healthy cells survive. LOVE the Master Cleanse by Stanley Burroughs &lt;a href="http://mastercleanser.com/"&gt;http://mastercleanser.com/&lt;/a&gt; but it is not for the faint of heart. Not eating anything for days freaks people out. But this cleanse provides everything necessary to stay healthy. It's detoxifying and totally cleanses the system. If I ever get cancer, I'll go on this for a month before I begin conventional treatment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;But all this came to clarity this morning after I got Butros Butros-Ghali out of my head (see previous post) when I was on my way to my 7:30 meeting. We feed or starve a "cancer" in the workplace, in our lives, our families, ourselves, with behaviors that either make it grow or kill it. Work often reflects an equally difficult situation in our personal life and we focus on work as the issue when actually it's just a reflection of who we're being in other areas. We have got to begin to starve the cancer, not feed it and wonder how we're going to treat the growing tumor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;It's always about me. How I act, react, respond, reflect. I will take better care of me so that other people don't have that responsibility. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-3853009863154107211?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/3853009863154107211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=3853009863154107211' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/3853009863154107211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/3853009863154107211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/04/feeding-cancer.html' title='Feeding a Cancer'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAeUDHEDunI/AAAAAAAAABM/FWWiLxJfIGI/s72-c/Bags+of+Sugar.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-2442461708376572525</id><published>2008-04-17T06:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T13:44:57.989-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='what I miss'/><title type='text'>Boutros Boutros-Ghali</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAdS93EDulI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Ix29hbduRxM/s1600-h/Boutros_Boutros-Ghali.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190208318274255442" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAdS93EDulI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Ix29hbduRxM/s320/Boutros_Boutros-Ghali.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;So that's who I woke up thinking about this morning. And here's the thing: I didn't know anything about him! But I remember Dead Rita being very interested in him. She was a voracious reader and very interested in world affairs, although she had no one to discuss them with. At the time she lived with us, I was working full time and on call at night for clients….my conversations with her were not of an intellectual bent. Shame on me. She cared about the world and wanted to discuss it….her best buddy had other things on the mind. Though I must admit, her constant questioning and desire to look at ALL sides of the issue was not of interest to me. Eh. I think of my beliefs and attitudes 15 years later and I am….what? Disappointed, saddened, by my lack of interest at the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;So when Boutros-Ghali popped into my head this morning I thought it was time to read up on this man Dead Rita had placed in the gray matter years ago. And the timing is perfect. He served in the UN as Secretary-General from 1 Jan 92 – 1 January 97. Dead Rita and Mr. Papa lived in our home from 16 April 93 – 3 Oct 98….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;What amazes me is that reading about Bourtos-Ghali in Wikipedia, a fine source of mis- and information, mentions RWANDA and how he was criticized for the UN's Failure to act during the 1994 Rwandan Genocide. So much of my life now is devoted to Rwanda and its people. &lt;a href="http://itafari.org/"&gt;http://itafari.org/&lt;/a&gt; The work of Itafari began and is because of this genocide – which I MISSED in 1994. And now is the mourning period in the country for the 100 days when the world turned its back. What an amazing coincidence. Of course I don't believe in coincidences….no odds that I can calculate could make this thought statistically possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;And here's Bourtos-Ghali in my brain. Dead Rita didn't miss the genocide, I'm sure. But we never talked about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;It's like &lt;em&gt;almost&lt;/em&gt; getting hit by a bus, or a rock &lt;em&gt;just&lt;/em&gt; missing your head, or &lt;em&gt;not&lt;/em&gt; winning the lottery by 5 numbers (I see that a lot more in my life than buses and rocks)…..so close! I think about all the things I did get from loving her, and who knows what I missed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm encouraged in my kooky optimistic way. Plumbing the depths of my own brain, consciously or not, seems to bring up some interesting things! Bourtos Bourtos-Ghali…..who knew.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-2442461708376572525?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/2442461708376572525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=2442461708376572525' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/2442461708376572525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/2442461708376572525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/04/boutros-boutros-ghali.html' title='Boutros Boutros-Ghali'/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAdS93EDulI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Ix29hbduRxM/s72-c/Boutros_Boutros-Ghali.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708956564534327557.post-279249622879270778</id><published>2008-04-16T18:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T13:43:12.127-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dead rita'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAaowHEDukI/AAAAAAAAAA0/yfH_N_2ctHk/s1600-h/Mom+and+Josh.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190021165074332226" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAaowHEDukI/AAAAAAAAAA0/yfH_N_2ctHk/s320/Mom+and+Josh.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Take Your Art to the World&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not know why people write books. I only know why I wrote one. I had no choice. And while the expression “I see dead people” was made hugely funny and popular because of the movie Sixth Sense, I don’t see ‘em, but I sure love talking about one of them! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dead person is my dearly departed mother, Rita. Gone but not forgotten. Missing but not lost. Dead but alive through her wisdom. (shown above is Dead Rita, circa 1985 with her grandson, Josh) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dead Rita’s Wisdom is profound. You probably don’t know her unless you’re related to her; worked with her in Ft. Wayne, Indiana; or grew up with her in Norwalk Ohio. But I knew her as I will never know another human being. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She loved me from the moment I was born in 1957 until the moment she died in my arms in 1998. And in her dying I realized I knew nothing. Because prior to her death I only knew one thing for sure: she and I would grow old together. BZZZZT! (wrong answer game buzzer) Now what? So I know nothing for sure. But I know this: wisdom must be shared, from the living and the dead. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She freely shared her wisdom with me. I was always there to hear it, reject what was not true, and act on it. While my life is not without difficulty or challenges, there are no regrets. No major face plants. No undoing of wrong. Just slow and steady. Nothing I consider spectacular. But certainly some extraordinary moments, with many many more to come. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so I wrote a book. And the wisdom from her is simply blow-your-hair-back profound. The catalyst for this blog is Dead Rita’s (aka Mom aka Gram) grandson whom she reverently referred to in hushed tones as one of her “exceptional” grandchildren.&lt;br /&gt;An example of that wisdom. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exceptional Grandson #1. Josh. Born in Ft. Wayne in 1985. Dead Rita’s artistic talent was real and appears to be hereditary. My brother Jeff showed artistic talent. And while he never pursued it, his son Josh began to show a tendency for art. And Dead Rita noticed. She admired the art he created as a little boy. And then one day when Josh was 10, Mom sat down with him. And she said, “Josh, I have hidden my talent from the world. I don’t want you to do that. Take your art to the world.” Mom died when Josh was 13. I didn’t see Josh after that until he was a senior in High School. But when I visited him we talked about his Gram, Dead Rita. By this time, his talent was well established, and he was receiving awards for it. And he told me he wanted to get an education in art. And when I asked him why, he told me about Mom’s words to him. And he said to me, “That’s why I’m becoming an artist, Aunt Vicky”. Mom had that kind of influence on me, but here was a young man, a boy when she shared those words: “take your art to the world”. And his world was changed forever. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He inspired this blog because yesterday he called to tell me he had been accepted into Rhode Island School of Design Graduate School (RISD) for printmaking. RISD is #1 in the nation for fine arts graduate programs. One of 7 students accepted into the graduate printmaking program this year. Josh is truly taking his art to the world. And it was the words of a loving grandmother, a woman who refused to limit his world as hers had been limited, that were the guiding words for his passion, art. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Josh called me to tell me, we were both in awe. I am so proud of him. Dead Rita lives on in me. And however heaven works, it is so clear to me that in Josh’s balcony of life, sits Dead Rita. Front row, hanging on his every victory, feeling his pain, and believing in him. I can imagine the cheering of that SMOKING section. Ridiculously happy. Riotously ecstatic for his victory. And so sure that it was always going to be. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take your art to the world. An example of her simple and profound wisdom. And I always wonder, what art must we each take to the world. My art is not of canvas or clay. My art is of inspiration and wonder. Truly, anything is possible for anyone. You cannot be too poor, too hurt, too damaged, too privileged, too intelligent or too ignorant to not be able to bring your art to the world. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you do have to think about it. And I’m thinking about it all the time. This is my journey of taking Dead Rita’s Wisdom from mind to paper to book. And I look forward to watching this art unfold. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To Josh, you are an incredible inspiration to me. To look at you reminds me of your Dad, my brother, whom I love so much, and of Mom, whom I could not love more. You and I will journey together through Dead Rita’s Wisdom. I look forward to your illustrations of the book, your support of me as I support you, and the art you will bring to the world. And I say in the most hushed and loving of tones, “you are exceptional”. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6708956564534327557-279249622879270778?l=deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/feeds/279249622879270778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6708956564534327557&amp;postID=279249622879270778' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/279249622879270778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6708956564534327557/posts/default/279249622879270778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadritaswisdom.blogspot.com/2008/04/take-your-art-to-world-i-do-not-know.html' title=''/><author><name>Vicky Trabosh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500820592268769529</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAanbnEDuiI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UMA0wtgM70Y/S220/Trabosh+web+head+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_eAiEHwKGvMY/SAaowHEDukI/AAAAAAAAAA0/yfH_N_2ctHk/s72-c/Mom+and+Josh.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
