Home - 2003 (Page 66)

Year: 2003

Midnight in Trabuco Canyon

Posted on June 23, 2003 in Book of Days Neighborhood

I’m free of clanging in my ears, the deafness of the wakeful world.

Year 2: Writing in Orange

Posted on June 23, 2003 in Site News

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Link to us

Can We Trust the Air Quality Reports?

Posted on June 23, 2003 in Weather

Is it just me or have I hit on yet another distortion by the corporate media?

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Jesus Opposed Prayer in School

Posted on June 23, 2003 in Morals & Ethics

You cannot serve two masters, Jesus warned us, but the prayer in school advocates pretend that God and Caesar are the same, which is clearly counter-Christian.

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The Letter B

Posted on June 22, 2003 in Attitudes Book of Days Childhood

Mom told me that the only thing she’d paid for was a report card of straight As: $10. I got one once in my senior year in college. She made excuses and I received nothing.

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Micro-Climate

Posted on June 22, 2003 in Weather

While we were away celebrating my aunt’s 95th birthday, it rained here.

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One Year of Pax Nortona Today

Posted on June 22, 2003 in Milestones

Thank you to each and every one of you who has found and stuck with me this last year.

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South Orange County Writers Walk

Posted on June 21, 2003 in Writing Groups

Until I get some people to help me write a group blog (oh Kiril….), I’ll stick announcements like this here. This is the third writer’s walk that we’ve held this year and we hope to have others:

Writer’s Walk Details and Map

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Metallic Cloud

Posted on June 21, 2003 in Weather

A car sounding like an approaching storm front — rain on the edge — passes.

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Shoes

Posted on June 21, 2003 in Book of Days Possessions

I’m not sure what to call them: they have broad, square toes and zippers up the inner sides. Beige calf-skin, subtly crinkled, covers the outside; lamb wool suits up the inside.

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Welcome to Camassia!

Posted on June 21, 2003 in Site News

Welcome to Camassa, a blogspot refugee!

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Scott Joplin

Posted on June 20, 2003 in Book of Days College Culture

I worked out a system of pressing the flesh of my upper arm as I lay on my dormitory bed listening to the Maple Leaf Rag and other syncopations of the American Chopin.

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