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RE: Digest Number 905

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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.

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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.

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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

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  • 1 year later...
Guest guest

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:

> -

>

>

>

>

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Guest guest

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:

>>-

>>

>>

>>

>>

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Share on other sites

  • 2 weeks later...
Guest guest

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:

>> -

>>

>>

>>

>>

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