MARGIENARY

Some scenes in our consultant checking with the Ibalois of their translation of the Book of Proverbs. We had a lot of 'serious fun' :-) and some funny fun especially when I asked what would be typical in a person who is 'anshi toka sipsipoti' and Paul said, "Inges ko!"

Sarah's and Mwah'z Birthday Dessert! BIG THANKS to AJ for the cakes! and another HUGE THANKS to UB for the Ice Creams! hehehe

Not too many days ago, I started checking out friend's blog pages again after a long reprieve considering how net surfing for me is given more precedence than breakfast. In doing so, it necessitates that I go into my own page beforehand for the obvious reason that all the links are there. Then I noticed how old, bored, and pitiful my last entry was; like a vagabond in someone else's family reunion--so out of place, trying hard, strange and different. I scrolled down and saw that every other title before it were of the same kind: words that were from another person's thoughts, originally typed in by fingers that aren't mine. For the last two months after my surgery, my life's music has somewhat become a series of discordant melody that no world-class conductor would even attempt to orchestrate into something beautiful . The notes were all garbled up and confused that no Beethoven would try to array them into a playable piece. Yet in spite of the unsymphonic ...

Not too many days ago, I started checking out friends' blogpages again. In doing so, it necessitates my going into my own page for the reason that all the links are there. Then I noticed how bored and pitiful my last entry look; like a vagabond in someone else's family reunion; so out of place and different. I scrolled down and saw that everything I put into the blog were words from someone else's thoughts, originally typed in by fingers that weren't mine.

Not too many days ago, I started checking out friends' blog pages again after a long reprieve considering how net surfing for me is given more precedence than breakfast. In doing so, it necessitates that I go into my own page beforehand for the obvious reason that all the links are there. Then I noticed how old, bored, and pitiful my last entry was; like a vagabond in someone else's family reunion--so out of place, trying hard, strange and different. I scrolled down and saw that every other title before it were of the same kind: words that were from another person's thoughts, originally typed in by fingers that aren't mine. For the last two months after my surgery, my life's music has somewhat become a series of discordant melody that no world-class conductor would even attempt to orchestrate into something beautiful. The notes were all garbled up and confused that no Beethoven would try to array them into a playable piece. Yet in spite of the unsymphonic orche...

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