I Am So Proud Of This Girl Scout Troop! And I Am So Proud To Be Part Of An Organization That Supports

Gods forbid we are proud to grown and learn

you arent going to be capable of any meaningful kind of solidarity with anyone if your response to new perspectives or information is to pretend you already knew.

if you cant say things like “i hadnt thought about it that way” or “thats a good point” (or even, god forbid “thanks for checking me on that”) when theyre appropriate, consider whether youre actually interested in developing your understanding or if youre just invested in your political self image.

My kid about her first hand experience with chiggers, “I’m sad that chiggers are really real”

Same

...the pavement shines like silver

sometimes its just like *street lights reflecting off the wet asphalt at night* maybe life isnt so ugly after all

He is a god of frontiers.

He is born again in every child who turns their eyes toward the stars, toward the sea, toward the horizon, and he grows with them.  He is young and old at the same time, all ages and all things, and always looking outward.

Windows are his.  Portholes.  External cameras.  He is not a god of surveillance, but he is a god of seeing, of the endless need to behold the wonders of the cosmos, of the world around us.  He only wants to look.  He has no desire to settle, or to damage, or to claim.

When first a maritime explorer donned a diving helmet, Yuri was there to egg them on, cajoling and encouraging, begging them to let him loose on new sights and new experience.  And when humanity set their skills toward space, Yuri was on the first satellite out, waiting for the moment when his faithful would join him, when they would see.

He was there with Laika when the heat grew too great, when her breathing grew too labored, and he did what good gods have always done, and held her close for so long as he was needed.  He looks now in her honor, as he looks in the honor of all those who have reached, whether of their own volition or at another’s.  She was not his by choice, but she was his at the end, and he is a god of his word.

He only hopes that you can have the chance to see.

He hopes you will keep your eyes open, and take him with you when you go.

The chronicle of the monk Herbert of Reichenau for the year 1021 ends “My brother Werner was born on November 1.“ 

1021 was not an uneventful year. The emperor began a campaign into Italy. Illustrious abbots died. There was an earthquake. But Herbert took the time to note, at the end of the year, that his brother was born. 

Of such acts of tenderness is history made. 

Reblogging so I can find this recipe again when it’s time to bake

Need to see this movie, was never interested before. Thanks

reblogging this beauty just because she’s neat ❤️🕷️🕸️