Grass between the Toes

Ask me anything   I'm like an open book. But only a special person could read it as it should ... Because without knowing the language, words are merely piled letters ...

to the lovely lady in the pet store…

i’m buying kitty litter, i have both cat and dog, outside is pouring rain and i’m out for 3 things, so i’m in my wide comfy shirt and in huge sneakers 

-I knew she had a cat!

-Oh, really? how did you? (thinking the subject would point to my scraches or cat and dog hair or anything like that)

-i just knew

-well, i have a dog too

-but it is obvious you have a cat

-do you have a parrot maybe?

- no, i have a puppy. why?

-ah, it just seemed you have a bird brain.

— 4 months ago
#prejudice  #cat people  #dog people  #idiots  #i love my pets even more now  #animals are the best 
ticklemysnitch:

little-howie-lovecraft:

inchbybloodyinch:

little-howie-lovecraft:

carladoll6:

thegodmolecule:

here is a tribe in Africa where the birth date of a child is counted not from when they were born, nor from when they are conceived but from the day that the child was a thought in its mother’s mind. And when a woman decides that she will have a child, she goes off and sits under a tree, by herself, and she listens until she can hear the song of the child that wants to come. And after she’s heard the song of this child, she comes back to the man who will be the child’s father, and teaches it to him. And then, when they make love to physically conceive the child, some of that time they sing the song of the child, as a way to invite it.And then, when the mother is pregnant, the mother teaches that child’s song to the midwives and the old women of the village, so that when the child is born, the old women and the people around her sing the child’s song to welcome it. And then, as the child grows up, the other villagers are taught the child’s song. If the child falls, or hurts its knee, someone picks it up and sings its song to it. Or perhaps the child does something wonderful, or goes through the rites of puberty, then as a way of honoring this person, the people of the village sing his or her song.In the African tribe there is one other occasion upon which the villagers sing to the child. If at any time during his or her life, the person commits a crime or aberrant social act, the individual is called to the center of the village and the people in the community form a circle around them. Then they sing their song to them.The tribe recognizes that the correction for antisocial behavior is not punishment; it is love and the remembrance of identity. When you recognize your own song, you have no desire or need to do anything that would hurt another.And it goes this way through their life. In marriage, the songs are sung, together. And finally, when this child is lying in bed, ready to die, all the villagers know his or her song, and they sing—for the last time—the song to that person.You may not have grown up in an African tribe that sings your song to you at crucial life transitions, but life is always reminding you when you are in tune with yourself and when you are not. When you feel good, what you are doing matches your song, and when you feel awful, it doesn’t. In the end, we shall all recognize our song and sing it well. You may feel a little warbly at the moment, but so have all the great singers. Just keep singing and you’ll find your way home.
 

This is so sweet.

No idea if this is true, but it’s a beautiful story

http://thoughtcatalog.com/zaron-burnett-iii/2013/05/a-love-song-to-mothers/  This article seems to point to the source, a book.
It says it is the Dagara, in West Africa,

Ah, thanks much!

//

ticklemysnitch:

little-howie-lovecraft:

inchbybloodyinch:

little-howie-lovecraft:

carladoll6:

thegodmolecule:

here is a tribe in Africa where the birth date of a child is counted not from when they were born, nor from when they are conceived but from the day that the child was a thought in its mother’s mind. And when a woman decides that she will have a child, she goes off and sits under a tree, by herself, and she listens until she can hear the song of the child that wants to come. And after she’s heard the song of this child, she comes back to the man who will be the child’s father, and teaches it to him. And then, when they make love to physically conceive the child, some of that time they sing the song of the child, as a way to invite it.

And then, when the mother is pregnant, the mother teaches that child’s song to the midwives and the old women of the village, so that when the child is born, the old women and the people around her sing the child’s song to welcome it. And then, as the child grows up, the other villagers are taught the child’s song. If the child falls, or hurts its knee, someone picks it up and sings its song to it. Or perhaps the child does something wonderful, or goes through the rites of puberty, then as a way of honoring this person, the people of the village sing his or her song.



In the African tribe there is one other occasion upon which the villagers sing to the child. If at any time during his or her life, the person commits a crime or aberrant social act, the individual is called to the center of the village and the people in the community form a circle around them. Then they sing their song to them.



The tribe recognizes that the correction for antisocial behavior is not punishment; it is love and the remembrance of identity. When you recognize your own song, you have no desire or need to do anything that would hurt another.

And it goes this way through their life. In marriage, the songs are sung, together. And finally, when this child is lying in bed, ready to die, all the villagers know his or her song, and they sing—for the last time—the song to that person.

You may not have grown up in an African tribe that sings your song to you at crucial life transitions, but life is always reminding you when you are in tune with yourself and when you are not. When you feel good, what you are doing matches your song, and when you feel awful, it doesn’t. In the end, we shall all recognize our song and sing it well. You may feel a little warbly at the moment, but so have all the great singers. Just keep singing and you’ll find your way home.

 

This is so sweet.

No idea if this is true, but it’s a beautiful story

http://thoughtcatalog.com/zaron-burnett-iii/2013/05/a-love-song-to-mothers/  This article seems to point to the source, a book.

It says it is the Dagara, in West Africa,

Ah, thanks much!

(via sansainthen0rth)

— 5 months ago with 127722 notes
#lovely  #family  #song  #story  #africa 

It is an old and rarely used gesture of our district, occasionally seen at funerals. It means thanks, it means admiration, it means good-bye to someone you love.

(Source: everlarrrk, via sansainthen0rth)

— 5 months ago with 26044 notes
#the hunger games  #people  #signs 
hotbritishguyspluscats:

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a picture that so fully summed up what it is to be a cat owner. 

i believe my cat’s presence saved me from depression while i was on my own… they can crawl on me any time.

hotbritishguyspluscats:

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a picture that so fully summed up what it is to be a cat owner. 

i believe my cat’s presence saved me from depression while i was on my own… they can crawl on me any time.

(Source: memewhore, via sansainthen0rth)

— 5 months ago with 258529 notes
#people  #cats  #animals are the best  #about me 

it has just occurred to me that my blog doesn’t have the appropriate amount of disney songs.

(Source: disney-where-dreams-come-true, via animated-disney-gifs)

— 5 months ago with 68633 notes
#disney  #pocahontas 

hugoeligibleart:

Mandie Manzano - 2013 Best Fan Artist eligible work

"Love Goes On and On", "The 10th", "Ariel", "I’m not bad, I’m just drawn that way", "What Time Is It", "The Little Sister", "The Snow Queen", "We’re All Mad Here", "The Princesses".

http://mandiemanzano.tumblr.com/

(via sansainthen0rth)

— 5 months ago with 1117 notes
#stained glass  #art  #disney 

velificantes:

How could you understand? Do you know what it is to be a lover? To be half of a whole?

No.

(via sansainthen0rth)

— 5 months ago with 428 notes
#inception  #love  #ellen page  #joseph gordon-levitt  #leonardo dicaprio  #marion cotillard