Guest guest Posted February 19, 2002 Report Share Posted February 19, 2002 As I understand it, coldness also plays a big part of Jeffery Yuen's analysis of cancer. Coldness of the kidney wraps the heat. When the Yang is deficient the coldness can no longer contain the heat (Yang needed to maintain coldness). The heat then escapes outside of the kidney and creates cancer havoc. It's a difficult concept for me, (and I don't know I described it well). but thinking about the refrigerator and how much heat is given off to create the ice, then maybe I can start to see it. >>>>>>>>>In Sun Bing-yin's work, he claims that yang xu coldness and dampness is the background for the development of cancer toxin in the body, based on his observation of cancer patients. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted February 19, 2002 Report Share Posted February 19, 2002 Douglas: When looking at cancer from the point of view of the pulses, the doubling or knotting movement in the intial rising motion is actually repletion and perverse wood (growth). While I'm not familiar with Yuen's work on cancer, a similar idea is included in our pulse picture from the respect that there is typically a separation of water from wood phases (usually kidney no longer supports and modulates the connection to liver) and that in the knotting of cancer wave itself, the yang rising movement of wood is found instead where you would expect to find the water phase. Jim Ramholz , wrote: > As I understand it, coldness also plays a big part of Jeffery Yuen's analysis of cancer. Coldness of the kidney wraps the heat. When the Yang is deficient the coldness can no longer contain the heat (Yang needed to maintain coldness). The heat then escapes outside of the kidney and creates cancer havoc. > It's a difficult concept for me, (and I don't know I described it well). but thinking about the refrigerator and how much heat is given off to create the ice, then maybe I can start to see it. > > >>>>>>>>>In Sun Bing-yin's work, he claims that yang xu coldness and dampness is the background for the development of cancer toxin in the body, based on his observation of cancer patients. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted February 20, 2002 Report Share Posted February 20, 2002 Al Citrate is also used as an anti coagulant. It binds with calcium to block the clotting cascade. You could potentially use citrus fruits or herbs that have citrate for this though I have no research to offer you on this. Colleen I also did some research, looking for heparinesque herbs and found one in particular, but unfortunately, I can't find a resource to get some in extract or even raw form. Anybody know where I can get some E Wei (Asafoetida)? Tuesday, February 19, 2002 3:26 PM Digest Number 905 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted July 2, 2003 Report Share Posted July 2, 2003 I have a question for the group. Has anyone ever heard of removing a fruit stain with boiling water? ....removing any stain with boiling water? A friend was over helping me pick cherries, and got some juice on his pants. He began boiling water, I said why, he said, it removes fruit stains. I said, no, it will set it in. He wouldn't listen to me. He now has set in cherry stains on his pants. Where did he get such an idea? Kathy Wednesday, July 02, 2003 2:20 AM Digest Number 905 Step By Step Instructions On Making Rose Petal Preserves: http://www.av-at.com/stuff/rosejam.html To adjust your group settings (i.e. go no mail) see the following link: /join To Un send a blank e-mail to: - ------ There are 11 messages in this issue. Topics in this digest: 1. OT: Marbles butch owen <butchbsi 2. Re: OT: Marbles " Cindy M. Chandler " <cindy45 3. Last chance - poll WoobeyQueen 4. OT: A Tribute to Suthran Belles butch owen <butchbsi 5. OT: Marbles butch owen <butchbsi 6. Re: OT: Marbles " Helen A. " <worth249 7. Suthrin' stuff? " christy " <fufuno1 8. Summer Newsletter " chrisziggy " <chrisziggy 9. Re: Summer Newsletter " Evelyn Millican " <edandevmil 10. Re: OT: Marbles " Evelyn Millican " <edandevmil 11. OT: Marbles butch owen <butchbsi ______________________ ______________________ Message: 1 Tue, 01 Jul 2003 19:06:28 -0700 butch owen <butchbsi OT: Marbles During the waning years of the depression in a small Idaho community, I used to stop by Mr. Miller's roadside stand for farm fresh produce as the season made it available. Food and money were still extremely scarce and bartering was used extensively. One day Mr. Miller was bagging some early potatoes for me. I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily appraising a basket of freshly picked green peas. I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes. Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Mr. Miller and the ragged boy next to me. " Hello Barry, how are you today? " " H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas .. they sure look good. " " They are good, Barry. How's your Ma? " " Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time. " " Good. Anything I can help you with? " " No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas. " " Would you like to take some home? " " No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with. " " Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas? " " All I got's my prize marble here. " " Is that right? Let me see it. " " Here 'tis. She's a dandy. " " I can see that. Hmmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home? " " Not zackley ... but almost. " Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this way let me look at that red marble. " " Sure will. Thanks Mr. Miller. " Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me. With a smile she said, " There are two other boys like him in our community, all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever. When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or an orange one, perhaps. " I left the stand smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short time later I moved to Colorado but I never forgot the story of this man, the boys, and their bartering. Several years went by, each more rapid that the previous one. Just recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died. They were having his viewing that evening and knowing my friends wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them. Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could. Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts ... all very professional looking. They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed and smiling by her husband's casket. Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket. Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young man stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket. Each left the mortuary awkwardly, wiping his eyes. Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and mentioned the story she had told me about the marbles. With her eyes glistening, she took my hand and led me to the casket. " Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about. They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim " traded " them. Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size .. they came to pay their debt. " " We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world, " she confided, " but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho. " With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased husband. Resting underneath were three exquisitely shined red marbles. ______________________ ______________________ Message: 2 Tue, 01 Jul 2003 13:52:30 -0600 " Cindy M. Chandler " <cindy45 Re: OT: Marbles Ah yes, I have this story in my archives of excellence. It is a great story...especially since I am from Idaho myself, lol. WY Cindy http://www.smoothscentsations.net > butch owen <butchbsi > > Tue, 01 Jul 2003 19:06:28 -0700 > > OT: Marbles > > > During the waning years of the depression in a small Idaho community, I > used to stop by Mr. Miller's roadside stand for farm fresh produce as > the season made it available. Food and money were still extremely scarce > and bartering was used extensively. > > One day Mr. Miller was bagging some early potatoes for me. I noticed a > small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily > appraising a basket of freshly picked green peas. I paid for my potatoes > but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover > for creamed peas and new potatoes. > > Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between > Mr. Miller and the ragged boy next to me. > > " Hello Barry, how are you today? " > > " H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas .. they sure > look good. " > > " They are good, Barry. How's your Ma? " > > " Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time. " > > " Good. Anything I can help you with? " > > " No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas. " > > " Would you like to take some home? " > > " No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with. " > > " Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas? " > > " All I got's my prize marble here. " > > " Is that right? Let me see it. " > > " Here 'tis. She's a dandy. " > > " I can see that. Hmmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of > go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home? " > > " Not zackley ... but almost. " > > Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this > way let me look at that red marble. " > > " Sure will. Thanks Mr. Miller. " > > Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me. With a > smile she said, " There are two other boys like him in our community, > all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain > with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever. When they come back > with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like > red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green > marble or an orange one, perhaps. " > > I left the stand smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short > time later I moved to Colorado but I never forgot the story of this man, > the boys, and their bartering. > > Several years went by, each more rapid that the previous one. Just > recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho > community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died. They > were having his viewing that evening and knowing my friends wanted to > go, I agreed to accompany them. > > Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of > the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could. Ahead of > us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the > other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts ... all very > professional looking. > > They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed and smiling by her > husband's casket. Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the > cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket. Her misty > light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young man stopped > briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the > casket. Each left the mortuary awkwardly, wiping his eyes. > > Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and mentioned > the story she had told me about the marbles. With her eyes glistening, > she took my hand and led me to the casket. > > " Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about. > They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim " traded " them. > Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size .. > they came to pay their debt. " > > " We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world, " she > confided, " but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in > Idaho. " > > With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased > husband. Resting underneath were three exquisitely shined red marbles. > > > Step By Step Instructions On Making Rose Petal Preserves: > http://www.av-at.com/stuff/rosejam.html > > To adjust your group settings (i.e. go no mail) see the following link: > /join > > To Un send a blank e-mail to: > - > > > > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted July 2, 2003 Report Share Posted July 2, 2003 I have always taken fruit stains out with boiling water from a heigth. I boil the water, stretch the item across a vessel and hold the kettle high and pour. I have done this for over 50 years and it works. It may take more than one pan of water but the stain will come out. I did a whole lace table cloth that had orange punch all over it and I am still using it (without stain). I think I learned about this from my mom but it may have been at Indiana University or Purdue. Good Luck. Jan Kat wrote: >I have a question for the group. > >Has anyone ever heard of removing a fruit stain with boiling water? >...removing any stain with boiling water? A friend was over helping me pick >cherries, and got some juice on his pants. He began boiling water, I said >why, he said, it removes fruit stains. I said, no, it will set it in. He >wouldn't listen to me. He now has set in cherry stains on his pants. > >Where did he get such an idea? > >Kathy > > > > >Wednesday, July 02, 2003 2:20 AM > > Digest Number 905 > > > >Step By Step Instructions On Making Rose Petal Preserves: >http://www.av-at.com/stuff/rosejam.html > >To adjust your group settings (i.e. go no mail) see the following link: >/join > >To Un send a blank e-mail to: >- > > >------ > >There are 11 messages in this issue. > >Topics in this digest: > > 1. OT: Marbles > butch owen <butchbsi > 2. Re: OT: Marbles > " Cindy M. Chandler " <cindy45 > 3. Last chance - poll > WoobeyQueen > 4. OT: A Tribute to Suthran Belles > butch owen <butchbsi > 5. OT: Marbles > butch owen <butchbsi > 6. Re: OT: Marbles > " Helen A. " <worth249 > 7. Suthrin' stuff? > " christy " <fufuno1 > 8. Summer Newsletter > " chrisziggy " <chrisziggy > 9. Re: Summer Newsletter > " Evelyn Millican " <edandevmil > 10. Re: OT: Marbles > " Evelyn Millican " <edandevmil > 11. OT: Marbles > butch owen <butchbsi > > >______________________ >______________________ > >Message: 1 > Tue, 01 Jul 2003 19:06:28 -0700 > butch owen <butchbsi >OT: Marbles > > >During the waning years of the depression in a small Idaho community, I >used to stop by Mr. Miller's roadside stand for farm fresh produce as >the season made it available. Food and money were still extremely scarce >and bartering was used extensively. > >One day Mr. Miller was bagging some early potatoes for me. I noticed a >small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily >appraising a basket of freshly picked green peas. I paid for my potatoes >but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover >for creamed peas and new potatoes. > >Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between >Mr. Miller and the ragged boy next to me. > > " Hello Barry, how are you today? " > > " H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas .. they sure >look good. " > > " They are good, Barry. How's your Ma? " > > " Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time. " > > " Good. Anything I can help you with? " > > " No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas. " > > " Would you like to take some home? " > > " No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with. " > > " Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas? " > > " All I got's my prize marble here. " > > " Is that right? Let me see it. " > > " Here 'tis. She's a dandy. " > > " I can see that. Hmmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of >go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home? " > > " Not zackley ... but almost. " > >Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this >way let me look at that red marble. " > > " Sure will. Thanks Mr. Miller. " > >Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me. With a >smile she said, " There are two other boys like him in our community, >all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain >with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever. When they come back >with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like >red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green >marble or an orange one, perhaps. " > >I left the stand smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short >time later I moved to Colorado but I never forgot the story of this man, >the boys, and their bartering. > >Several years went by, each more rapid that the previous one. Just >recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho >community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died. They >were having his viewing that evening and knowing my friends wanted to >go, I agreed to accompany them. > >Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of >the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could. Ahead of >us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the >other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts ... all very >professional looking. > >They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed and smiling by her >husband's casket. Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the >cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket. Her misty >light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young man stopped >briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the >casket. Each left the mortuary awkwardly, wiping his eyes. > >Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and mentioned >the story she had told me about the marbles. With her eyes glistening, >she took my hand and led me to the casket. > > " Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about. >They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim " traded " them. >Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size .. >they came to pay their debt. " > > " We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world, " she >confided, " but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in >Idaho. " > >With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased >husband. Resting underneath were three exquisitely shined red marbles. > > >______________________ >______________________ > >Message: 2 > Tue, 01 Jul 2003 13:52:30 -0600 > " Cindy M. Chandler " <cindy45 >Re: OT: Marbles > >Ah yes, I have this story in my archives of excellence. It is a great >story...especially since I am from Idaho myself, lol. WY Cindy >http://www.smoothscentsations.net > > > > >>butch owen <butchbsi >> >>Tue, 01 Jul 2003 19:06:28 -0700 >> >> OT: Marbles >> >> >>During the waning years of the depression in a small Idaho community, I >>used to stop by Mr. Miller's roadside stand for farm fresh produce as >>the season made it available. Food and money were still extremely scarce >>and bartering was used extensively. >> >>One day Mr. Miller was bagging some early potatoes for me. I noticed a >>small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily >>appraising a basket of freshly picked green peas. I paid for my potatoes >>but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover >>for creamed peas and new potatoes. >> >>Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between >>Mr. Miller and the ragged boy next to me. >> >> " Hello Barry, how are you today? " >> >> " H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas .. they sure >>look good. " >> >> " They are good, Barry. How's your Ma? " >> >> " Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time. " >> >> " Good. Anything I can help you with? " >> >> " No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas. " >> >> " Would you like to take some home? " >> >> " No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with. " >> >> " Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas? " >> >> " All I got's my prize marble here. " >> >> " Is that right? Let me see it. " >> >> " Here 'tis. She's a dandy. " >> >> " I can see that. Hmmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of >>go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home? " >> >> " Not zackley ... but almost. " >> >>Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this >>way let me look at that red marble. " >> >> " Sure will. Thanks Mr. Miller. " >> >>Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me. With a >>smile she said, " There are two other boys like him in our community, >>all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain >>with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever. When they come back >>with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like >>red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green >>marble or an orange one, perhaps. " >> >>I left the stand smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short >>time later I moved to Colorado but I never forgot the story of this man, >>the boys, and their bartering. >> >>Several years went by, each more rapid that the previous one. Just >>recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho >>community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died. They >>were having his viewing that evening and knowing my friends wanted to >>go, I agreed to accompany them. >> >>Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of >>the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could. Ahead of >>us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the >>other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts ... all very >>professional looking. >> >>They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed and smiling by her >>husband's casket. Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the >>cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket. Her misty >>light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young man stopped >>briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the >>casket. Each left the mortuary awkwardly, wiping his eyes. >> >>Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and mentioned >>the story she had told me about the marbles. With her eyes glistening, >>she took my hand and led me to the casket. >> >> " Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about. >>They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim " traded " them. >>Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size .. >>they came to pay their debt. " >> >> " We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world, " she >>confided, " but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in >>Idaho. " >> >>With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased >>husband. Resting underneath were three exquisitely shined red marbles. >> >> >>Step By Step Instructions On Making Rose Petal Preserves: >>http://www.av-at.com/stuff/rosejam.html >> >>To adjust your group settings (i.e. go no mail) see the following link: >>/join >> >>To Un send a blank e-mail to: >>- >> >> >> >> Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted July 10, 2003 Report Share Posted July 10, 2003 Never heard of using boiling water--as you stated, it only sets a stain. I use Murphy's soap with great results especially when I spill cappuccino on myself. Also use a dilution of Murphy's and water to spray my roses. Effie >I have a question for the group. > >Has anyone ever heard of removing a fruit stain with boiling water? >...removing any stain with boiling water? A friend was over helping me pick >cherries, and got some juice on his pants. He began boiling water, I said >why, he said, it removes fruit stains. I said, no, it will set it in. He >wouldn't listen to me. He now has set in cherry stains on his pants. > >Where did he get such an idea? > >Kathy > > > > >Wednesday, July 02, 2003 2:20 AM > > Digest Number 905 > > > >Step By Step Instructions On Making Rose Petal Preserves: >http://www.av-at.com/stuff/rosejam.html > >To adjust your group settings (i.e. go no mail) see the following link: >/join > >To Un send a blank e-mail to: >- > > >------ > >There are 11 messages in this issue. > >Topics in this digest: > > 1. OT: Marbles > butch owen <butchbsi > 2. Re: OT: Marbles > " Cindy M. Chandler " <cindy45 > 3. Last chance - poll > WoobeyQueen > 4. OT: A Tribute to Suthran Belles > butch owen <butchbsi > 5. OT: Marbles > butch owen <butchbsi > 6. Re: OT: Marbles > " Helen A. " <worth249 > 7. Suthrin' stuff? > " christy " <fufuno1 > 8. Summer Newsletter > " chrisziggy " <chrisziggy > 9. Re: Summer Newsletter > " Evelyn Millican " <edandevmil > 10. Re: OT: Marbles > " Evelyn Millican " <edandevmil > 11. OT: Marbles > butch owen <butchbsi > > >______________________ >______________________ > >Message: 1 > Tue, 01 Jul 2003 19:06:28 -0700 > butch owen <butchbsi >OT: Marbles > > >During the waning years of the depression in a small Idaho community, I >used to stop by Mr. Miller's roadside stand for farm fresh produce as >the season made it available. Food and money were still extremely scarce >and bartering was used extensively. > >One day Mr. Miller was bagging some early potatoes for me. I noticed a >small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily >appraising a basket of freshly picked green peas. I paid for my potatoes >but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover >for creamed peas and new potatoes. > >Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between >Mr. Miller and the ragged boy next to me. > > " Hello Barry, how are you today? " > > " H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas .. they sure >look good. " > > " They are good, Barry. How's your Ma? " > > " Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time. " > > " Good. Anything I can help you with? " > > " No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas. " > > " Would you like to take some home? " > > " No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with. " > > " Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas? " > > " All I got's my prize marble here. " > > " Is that right? Let me see it. " > > " Here 'tis. She's a dandy. " > > " I can see that. Hmmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of >go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home? " > > " Not zackley ... but almost. " > >Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this >way let me look at that red marble. " > > " Sure will. Thanks Mr. Miller. " > >Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me. With a >smile she said, " There are two other boys like him in our community, >all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain >with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever. When they come back >with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like >red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green >marble or an orange one, perhaps. " > >I left the stand smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short >time later I moved to Colorado but I never forgot the story of this man, >the boys, and their bartering. > >Several years went by, each more rapid that the previous one. Just >recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho >community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died. They >were having his viewing that evening and knowing my friends wanted to >go, I agreed to accompany them. > >Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of >the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could. Ahead of >us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the >other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts ... all very >professional looking. > >They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed and smiling by her >husband's casket. Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the >cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket. Her misty >light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young man stopped >briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the >casket. Each left the mortuary awkwardly, wiping his eyes. > >Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and mentioned >the story she had told me about the marbles. With her eyes glistening, >she took my hand and led me to the casket. > > " Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about. >They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim " traded " them. >Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size .. >they came to pay their debt. " > > " We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world, " she >confided, " but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in >Idaho. " > >With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased >husband. Resting underneath were three exquisitely shined red marbles. > > >______________________ >______________________ > >Message: 2 > Tue, 01 Jul 2003 13:52:30 -0600 > " Cindy M. Chandler " <cindy45 >Re: OT: Marbles > >Ah yes, I have this story in my archives of excellence. It is a great >story...especially since I am from Idaho myself, lol. WY Cindy >http://www.smoothscentsations.net > > >> butch owen <butchbsi >> >> Tue, 01 Jul 2003 19:06:28 -0700 >> >> OT: Marbles >> >> >> During the waning years of the depression in a small Idaho community, I >> used to stop by Mr. Miller's roadside stand for farm fresh produce as >> the season made it available. Food and money were still extremely scarce >> and bartering was used extensively. >> >> One day Mr. Miller was bagging some early potatoes for me. I noticed a >> small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily >> appraising a basket of freshly picked green peas. I paid for my potatoes >> but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover >> for creamed peas and new potatoes. >> >> Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between >> Mr. Miller and the ragged boy next to me. >> >> " Hello Barry, how are you today? " >> >> " H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas .. they sure >> look good. " >> >> " They are good, Barry. How's your Ma? " >> >> " Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time. " >> >> " Good. Anything I can help you with? " >> >> " No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas. " >> >> " Would you like to take some home? " >> >> " No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with. " >> >> " Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas? " >> >> " All I got's my prize marble here. " >> >> " Is that right? Let me see it. " >> >> " Here 'tis. She's a dandy. " >> >> " I can see that. Hmmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of >> go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home? " >> >> " Not zackley ... but almost. " >> >> Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this >> way let me look at that red marble. " >> >> " Sure will. Thanks Mr. Miller. " >> >> Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me. With a >> smile she said, " There are two other boys like him in our community, >> all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain >> with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever. When they come back >> with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like >> red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green >> marble or an orange one, perhaps. " >> >> I left the stand smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short >> time later I moved to Colorado but I never forgot the story of this man, >> the boys, and their bartering. >> >> Several years went by, each more rapid that the previous one. Just >> recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho >> community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died. They >> were having his viewing that evening and knowing my friends wanted to >> go, I agreed to accompany them. >> >> Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of >> the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could. Ahead of >> us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the >> other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts ... all very >> professional looking. >> >> They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed and smiling by her >> husband's casket. Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the >> cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket. Her misty >> light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young man stopped >> briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the >> casket. Each left the mortuary awkwardly, wiping his eyes. >> >> Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and mentioned >> the story she had told me about the marbles. With her eyes glistening, >> she took my hand and led me to the casket. >> >> " Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about. >> They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim " traded " them. >> Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size .. >> they came to pay their debt. " >> >> " We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world, " she >> confided, " but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in >> Idaho. " >> >> With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased >> husband. Resting underneath were three exquisitely shined red marbles. >> >> >> Step By Step Instructions On Making Rose Petal Preserves: >> http://www.av-at.com/stuff/rosejam.html >> >> To adjust your group settings (i.e. go no mail) see the following link: >> /join >> >> To Un send a blank e-mail to: >> - >> >> >> >> Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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