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Life in California

A bright, fresh morning in Hayward, California, and I’m driving up the on ramp to 880. (That’s our local freeway: 4 to 6 lanes in each direction, and traffic jams available 24/7.) As I pull into the correct lane, I notice a vast rumbling sound.

Earthquake.

But where’s the shaking? I’ve been in the car when an earthquake struck, and you definitely feel it. And with this amount of noise. . . . Oops.

Dear friend with the brand-new pickup truck: if your subwoofer is producing bass that cannot be distinguished from an earthquake, you might have it on too loud.

How are you doing?
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THE ANNUAL CHRISTMAS POEM: “The Work of Christmas”

Wishing everyone a Christmas as full of love, joy, and thankfulness as mine has been.

Here’s a litany called “The Work of Christmas” composed by Howard Thurman, an African-American theologian, educator, and civil rights leader.

When the song of the angels is stilled,
when the star in the sky is gone,
when the kings and princes are home,
when the shepherds are back with their flocks,
the work of Christmas begins:
to find the lost,
to heal the broken,
to feed the hungry,
to release the prisoner,
to rebuild the nations,
to bring peace among the people,
to make music in the heart.

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May we all do the work of Christmas every day of the year.

This entry was originally posted at https://wordweaverlynn.dreamwidth.org/656326.html. Please comment here if you want, or there using OpenID. Or send me a message via carrier pigeon or fortune cookie. I'm dying to hear from you.