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Moments of Bliss-the story – Episode 1 (BLW Contributor)

yawstories

Moments of Bliss is a Short Story Series set in Ghana.

It is the story of young Ghanaian love with its hilarious twists and turns.

Prepare to be captivated!




Episode 1

The computer screen in front of me lit up; the hue of the flickering brightness shaking me out of my temporal sleep. My thumb had brushed across the mouse and woken me once more from oblivion. I felt a tiny smile etch on my face as I reminisced what happened the night before.

I could feel her breath on me, that’show close she was; Her head on my shoulder, her body in myarms. Our hands were wrapped in each other and her lips were as close as they ever would be without touching mine, and yet we did not kiss. Not that I didn’t want to, heaven knows I did, but I didn’t make the move.

It was the…

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The Telepathy Files – Part 1 Matt gets Special Power (BLW Contributor)

Unprecedented Cult

hqdefaultAll thestory lineand characters are fictional. Any resemblance is purely coincidental

It was a cold, windy morning in Boston and another usual day for Matt Douglas and Ron Sniper. Matt brewed the coffee and they both sat on the table for the breakfast with their usual talks.

“Good Morning, Matty” said Ron
“Morning” came an instant reply from Matt.
Ron: “What do we have for breakfast today?”
Matt: “Just the pancakes, toast and juice”
Ron: “We had those yesterday. Can’t you conjure up with something new every day?”
Matt: “I can, but then you’ll have to start cooking and be my wife”
And both of them chuckled and moved to a nearby café for the breakfast

Matt Douglas originally from Belmont, had already moved in some years ago with Ron as a professor in Clinical Investigation at Boston University. This was after his parents had died due to blast in…

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BLW Interview w/ Magic Johnson wants Brad Pitt & Angelina Jolie to stay together

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The Aftermath by The Hangry Runner (BLW Contributor)

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Huh.  I just realized this was still sitting in my draft folder.  A little late but never I suppose…

And now we rejoin our tale on September 11, 2016, the day after I completed my first ultra marathon:

When I woke up the next morning…well that implies that I was actually sleeping.  To be honest, I don’t think I slept very much because my muscles would keep locking up.  Needless to say, I was quite tired when the alarm went off.  I was able to get dressed  and then had to contend with the stairs down for breakfast.

I ordered my crepe and devoured yogurt and coffee until it was ready.  My friend ordered scrambled eggs and bacon.  There was another woman who was just finishing breakfast that had run the 28 km course and I felt a sense of kinship with her as I watched her hobble up to her room to pack.
So pretty.

We bid our hosts farewell and began to make the trip back home.  There were frequent stops to stretch and it just so happens that two of those stops were at fromageries and one was at a bakery for cinnamon buns.  The cinnamon bun was a bit of a disappointment.  I mean, it was OK and it had a maple glaze on it.  I was hoping for a good cup of coffee to go with it but I’m not even sure if I saw a coffee machine.  Yes I’m a bit of a snob but when it comes to food, I think it’s allowed.

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Cheese please.

We stopped in downtown Trois Rivieres for lunch at a nice little cafe called Frida which was on the river.  The food was good if a little pricey and they served our food right on the trays.  Yup, no plates.  I guess that’s trendy or something.

By the time we hit the Ontario border, I think we were both getting tired of travelling.  My body was aching in some unexpected places.  Legs?  Of course.  Shoulders?  Makes sense.  Who knew my sides would be hurting?

I think even the conversation dies down the closer to our homes we got and even though we both said we were hungry, neither one of us wanted to stop.

It was about 10:30 pm by the time I hoisted myself out of my car.  I left most of my gear in the trunk and hobbled into bed, so grateful that I don’t have any stairs to contend with.  I had dogs all around me and a cat that insisted on sleeping on my hip and then protested loudly each time I rolled over to try and get comfortable.

Yup.  It’s good to be home.

Check out other great articles from The Hangry Runner

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BLW Interview w/ Ben Stein talking about his concerns for Hilary Clinton’s health & politics

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Make up to $1,000 or More a Week w/ Being a Lyft Driver 

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Hot Bikram Yoga and the messy hair thing! (BLW Contributor)

Thoughts from a Black Girl's Diary

Just an ordinary Black Girl Doing Bikram Yoga (2)

(Or…My First, My Last & Anything Else!!??)

My First…

Yep, ladies and gentlemen you can tell that I was born in a particular era when the reference for this blog comes (partly) from the musings of the wonderful Barry White. I bet I’m the first person to have linked the Walrus of Love that is Mr. White to a session of Bikram Yoga! People do say though that when you’re doing Bikram Yoga, it evokes some very emotive feelings, both physically & mentally. Well, for me the first class I did had a heat to replicate a Caribbean beach; the last, was that I knew it wasn’t going to be the only session I would do of this bizarre & idiotically crazy extreme sport & the anything else I encountered was when my head kept playing Barry’s tune in my head,

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BLW Interview w/ Couples Therapy Dr. Jenn Mann talks about the Angelina & Brad Pitt Divorce

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What-atarian? (BLW Contributor)

PlantsNotPlastic

This is a brief compilation of the different things people call themselves with regard to dietary lifestyles, their true definitions (at least according to Wikipedia), and my thoughts on each.

To give a bit of background, my understanding of this list of lifestyles versus a list of diets is that diets are often popularized and advertised by a specific group or company (Atkins, Beach Body, Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, etc.) and more often than not are paired with specific food products or supplements, where a lifestyle change or lifestyle intervention has more to do with a lasting mentality around food that is not specific to a group or company and can be practiced regardless of who is selling you the food you eat.

In order from most to least animal product consumption:

CarnivoreDefinition – meaning ‘meat eater’ (Latin, caro meaning ‘meat’ or ‘flesh’ and vorare meaning ‘to devour’)…

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This is your Chance to Post on BLW!!! – Share your Thoughts, Stories & Ideas with us!!!

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WE AT BE LIKE WATER BELIEVE THAT WE ARE ALL PART OF THE LEARNING EXPERIENCE, SO WE WANTED TO REACH OUT TO OUR FRIENDS & FANS TO SAY WE APPRECIATE YOUR SUPPORT

AND WE WANT TO GIVE BACK BY SHARING YOUR OWN THOUGHTS, STORIES OR IDEAS ON OUR SITE.

SO, IF YOU HAVE A STORY OR TOPIC YOU WANT TO SHARE WITH US, JUST LEAVE IT IN THE COMMENT SECTION WITH A LINK TO YOUR TOPIC AND WE WILL POST IT ON BLW,

 OF COURSE THE TOPIC HAS TO BE SHARED WITH OUR OWN PHILOSOPHIES. THANK YOU AGAIN!

TO MAXIMIZE YOUR POSTING TO BEEN SEEN BY A LOT OF PEOPLE, WE WILL ALSO POST YOUR STORIES TO ALL OUR SOCIAL MEDIA SITES TO BE SEEN BY THOUSANDS OF FANS!!!

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Living Poor by MJ Writer (BLW Contributor)

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family w cousinsSome aunts, uncles and cousins in this photo with us.

I know how to live poor.  I know how to live poor and be happy.  No, I’m not poor, but I was raised poor.  Let me explain.

My parents had twelve children—a dozen—but I don’t know about cheaper by the dozen.  All biological, all healthy, all twelve.  Five girls and seven boys.  My twin brother and I were numbers eight and nine.

My family lived in California when I was born, and there Dad worked in the timber cutting Redwoods.  He served in the military, then we moved south and he started farming.  We lived in a small community where the older children hoed and picked cotton on land Dad rented to farm, and they also hired out to other farmers to work in the fields.  For two years the family worked at truck-patching on an island in the Mississippi River where we lived and where my twin and I started first grade in a one-room schoolhouse.  Then we returned to the small community until Dad bought a small piece of land in the hills.

We were poor, but we didn’t really know that we were poor.  Dad and Mom taught us to work hard, and they taught us to have a good attitude about it.  Those were some of the best lessons we learned from our parents. Dad had a great sense of humor and loved his family.  He always said that we could make work fun, and he showed us how to do it.  We sang, told stories, played jokes on one another, and supported and loved each other.

So back to being poor.  Mom was a stay-at-home mom, and worked harder than anyone, although she would never admit it.  She was truly a Proverbs 31 woman!  With the help of the family, she raised a large garden full of all kinds of vegetables and canned hundreds of quarts of food for the pantry.  We always said Mom could make something out of nothing, and when the pantry was low, she would whip up meals that were very simple but so delicious.

We sometimes raised our own beef, pork and chicken, and while we often ate meat-free meals, we loved the times we were able to spare a hog or beef to butcher, and when we had enough to spare, fried chicken made a wonderful Sunday dinner.  During the winter months Dad and the boys hunted, providing the family with venison, rabbit or squirrel.  We enjoyed healthy food with no preservatives!

Early in the spring before the garden was grown we would enjoy salads made from a variety of plants chosen carefully by Mom from the fields around the house.  The salad would consist of plants such as lamb’s quarter, dock, thistle, and wild onions.   This would be served with beans, seasoned boiled potatoes, and cornbread.  Yum!

Mom sewed most of the clothes her daughters wore, and even some shirts for her sons.  I remember her making my twin and me matching tops—a shirt for him and a blouse for me.  I’m not sure he was happy about it, but I thought it was pretty special!  She used whatever she could find for fabric, including recycled fabric from used clothing.  I have worn many dresses and blouses made from printed flour sacks.  Mom was a wonderful designer, and some of the best compliments I received was on a dress she designed and made.  No one had to know it was made from a flour sack.  We also wore lots of hand-me-downs, and the boys wore patched jeans before patched jeans were cool!

My family worked together, played together, and prayed together.  We grew up healthy and happy, and we loved and still love one another.  What wonderful memories I have!

I think my being poor is/was a matter of perception.  Did that mean we had no money?  If so, then we were pretty poor.  But we had food, clothing, and a roof over our heads.  We worked hard—all of us—and managed carefully what we had.  We might not have had nice things like so many others had, but when I look back, that seems immaterial.  And for the most part, we just didn’t think much about it.  We were secure, fed, and happy.  That was what was important.

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