Tuesday, December 24, 2013

On the eve of Christmas, a moment with Clement Clarke Moore

Merry Christmas from 360 Convos and Carol Doane

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A Visit from St. Nicholas


'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday to objects below,
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny rein-deer,

With a little old driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:

"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donder and Blixen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the housetop the coursers they flew
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too—

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack.

His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight—
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”

By Clement Clarke Moore

Wishing you a warm and happy Christmas and a new year filled with hope and promises fulfilled.

Monday, December 23, 2013

Get ready for new year with five minute daily writing spree

This past summer, my friend Ginger sent me an email from her T-Mobile myTouch 3G Slide (I know very suspect), but the message came from the heart.

Ginger still uses a 3G Slide.
"Ok you might think i am a wacko but bare with me.

For me will you take 5 min?

2 min write what you are freaked about then cross it out throw it away burn it whatever then 3 to 5 min write a list of 5 thankfuls and then the rest of the time design your dream job. Set a timer and stop when it dings but do it EVERYDAY either first thing in the morning or right before bed.

Please please for me!! I promise you wont regret it."

The things that headline my list are items that cash would take care of: insulating the attic, building a deck, loan payments, planning for next year's national Doane family reunion, paying for college, saving for retirement.

The items that cannot be assuaged with cash swirl around my daughter, the tug and pull of college with all its privileges of independence while keeping full throttle on still being a kid with a parent to fund the adventure and to fall back on.

Other items on my list include accomplishments I want to have, zipping through my knitting stash and creating lovely gifts, propagating my Amazon store and shipping out the piles of books. Cleaning the house. Publishing my own book.

As the new year approaches, I think I may finally take Ginger's advice and start that five minute writing spree.

Goodness knows I have enough paper around me to fully stuff the attic -- now that would be some kind of insulation.
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Sunday, December 8, 2013

Columbian newspaper sails into pay territory

The Internet has turned the consumer into the publisher.

Washington paper sails into new pay territory.
There are an incredible number of people who enjoy writing and turn their craft into a website, a blog, or at a minimum a micro-blog such as Twitter.

All this information has flooded the world, offering a vast array of content and opinion and as a result has made it tough for those who write for a living to, well, actually make a living.

The largest newspaper in Southwest Washington, The Columbian Newspaper, announced this morning that they are initiating a paywall. A paywall means that not all the content on the site will remain free – some content will require a fee to view, and it’s likely to be the content most highly desired.

This morning, owner and publisher Scott Campbell posted an open letter to his readers titled Changing with the Reality of Online News, noting that section fronts and information produced by the advertising department will remain free. For the rest of the content, after 30 visits the user will be prompted to pay.

A handful of newspapers have been successful in building paywalls to help underwrite the cost of doing business. A larger number of newspapers have laid an gargantuan number of people off trying not to ask readers to pay for online news.

Readers who value journalism will likely respond first with howls and then a begrudging, “I guess it makes sense,” and move to open their pocketbooks or smartphone stash of cash.

Those who enjoy a less pure style of journalism will surf the Internet for the free stuff.

Which one are you?