Saturday, October 1, 2022

Announcing Blog4Peace ~ Nov 4 - 6, 2022 ~ Join us!

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Announcing Blog4Peace 2022 (aka BlogBlast for Peace) 
Welcome to the 17th year of peace blogging in the Blogosphere! Welcome peace bloggers! Welcome social media participants who also Post4Peace on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and beyond.

November 4 - 6, 2022 (Friday, Saturday and Sunday) 

Bloggers and social media posters from all across the globe 
will blog and post for peace. 

 NOV 4 - 6th

Our 2022 Theme is
No Freedom, No Peace

I don't have to tell you what's going on in the world. From tanks in Ukraine to headscarves flying off in Iran, we're in a battle for universal and personal peace. We're in a storm calling for independence in a world saturated with oppression. We need freedom. 

The whole world is in a foxhole. 

Latin for "Grant us Peace"

 Why do we need freedom? We need freedom to speak. Freedom to love. Freedom to lie down peacefully at night without bombs falling outside our windows. Freedom to worship. Freedom to abstain from worship. FREEDOM. Economic and social.

Freedom from guns on the street. Freedom from racism, sexism, ageism, xenophobia, classism, discrimination and prejudice. Freedom from oppression. Freedom from corruption. Freedom from the worry of nuclear war.  
And most importantly, freedom from the worries in our heads that keep us unhealthy and enslaved. 

Deepak Chopra said, 
"When you feel unbounded and free, you will begin to heal yourself." 

It's hard to remain unbound 
when the world wants to keep you in chains. 

Are you free? And if you're not, what is holding you back?  
I am convinced that no amount of peace can spring from even a sliver of bondage. 
 Figure it out. What is keeping you bound? 

Where is YOUR freedom? 
How precious is it to you?
What does your liberation look like?
What makes you free? 
What will you do to get it?
What makes a country free?
What makes our planet free?
What will we do to protect it?

 When you fight for your freedom you are fighting for your peace.
When we fight for OUR freedom, we are fighting for our peace.
 That's everything.

 But what if your freedom infringes upon my freedom? 
Are we free? 
 We are even more estranged. We are at war.
Make sure your "freedoms" cause no harm to others.
No Freedom, No Peace
See how that works?

We are peace bloggers. It's what we do. 
This isn't a rallying cry for more war. That wouldn't be in our wheelhouse. 
It is not an if-then statement. It is not a threat against power. Under the conditions of a peace movement such as this, we are acknowledging that one cannot exist without the other.  It is clear we are talking about mutual evolution, not revolution....UNLESS...your revolution is quiet and peaceful, productive and compassionate. Then I'm all in. 

This is my challenge to you this year.
When you find yourself in the middle of an invasion or unwanted change, surrounded and bound, reclaim your freedom. 
Let's get FREE! 

Note: You can make it personal or you can write about the national and global issues facing us. Your choice. 

Get your own peace globe HERE
Peace Globe Templates HERE.

Thank you for continuing to inspire me. Thank you for being a community of life-changers, givers, and lovers of peace. Thank you continuing to share your powerful images and words with all of us. 

See the thousands of peace globes flying in the official gallery from 214+ countries and territories since 2006 when we started. 
Let's go! It's a launch!

How To Links:

Use this blank template to make your own peace globe

Contact me at blog4peace @ if you have questions.
Images: Mimi Lenox, Pixabay
Join us for 
 ©Mimi Lenox All Rights Reserved Blog4Peace™ BlogBlast4Peace™ Blog For Peace™ Post4Peace™ BlogBlast for Peace™ Peace Bloggers

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Monday, September 26, 2022

Me and My Little Red Wagon ~ Monday Mimisms

It could have been the smell of early morning dew on early morning grass that made me wear a Carolina blue baseball cap, rosy red lipstick and my trusty gold hoops. It was the Sale of the Century and I was out to replenish an already overflowing inventory pile making mountains of clinky-clanky sounds in the castle. Homer is so tired of all the dust and noise. He says he can't sleep late anymore because I'm always disturbing his beauty rest in the dungeon. But back to the sale.

It was 7am on a Saturday morning. I'd been up since 4:00 following a long line of taillights. Thousands of pieces of fancy and functional china in boxes laid out on a parking lot pavement. Soooo beautiful and soooo much to see. And nobody ma'amed me all day long until an overzealous gatekeeper stopped me and my little red wagon to ask (accuse) if I'd paid for the empty boxes in said red wagon. Seriously??? Here's how it went down.

It was my second trip inside (wearing an armband, mind you) when I decided to turn around and go back OUT to the ladies room before I started shopping again. I did so, then re-entered the sale. "Ma'am!!!"
Do I look amused?   
Did the wheel fall out? Did I lose a nail? Did my red grapes fall out on the ground? What?? 

 "Yes?" I turned around to see an angry and accusatory very tall white-haired LOUD man say to all my sassiness, "Did you go to your car, unload your dishes and come back with the same empty boxes without paying for them??!!" It wasn't a question, it was a loud mean accusation. (standing in a crowd of people) The whole world look on. 

You was one of those moments when the teacher-look and the mom-look merged into an indignant look that said I-will-slap-you-silly-if-you-don't-tone-down-that-tone-right-now-old-man as I gazed up at Mount Accuvius ready to call the yard sale police on little 'ole me.  I would never really slap (unless in self-defense) but I have "looks" that could melt anything within 20 feet. Well-cultivated. 
Do I look like a criminal to you?

"Really?" I said. "Absolutely not!!!" And before I could say another word he backed off with a meek weak little tiny sheepish ok 
and I went on my way but it wasn't a merry way. I was miffed. And embarrassed. The nerve! He wouldn't know a Queen or a teapot if it smacked him with a crown. He must have worked for the royal military police in a previous life and came back demoted as a yard sale guard. 
What a karmic accident to run into me.  

I wanted to take my little red wagon and go home, but I turned my attention toward a man-in-blue-jeans teapot in the distance and tried to shake it off. Someone finally saw the crown under my hat and I got an apology but this was no way to start my day. Back to the task at hand...
All in all, I had a lot of fun (maskless!) and met some very nice people who chatted with me under a shade tree while we sorted and exchanged dishes. "Oh! are you leaving that one behind? Can I have it?" a lady asked. "Sure. Help yourself." Or "I noticed you were collecting this pattern, do you want these?" Sometimes you'd hear the big crashing sound of someone's box tipping over and breaking all their finds. Everyone would sympathetically and collectively groan in unison while others helped pick up the pieces. Literally.

It was nice to see people being kind to one another (except Mt. Accuvius) and actually helping complete strangers find the patterns they were after.  Red stickers meant "cracked" and orange meant "chipped" but not all were damaged or only on the backside. That's OK with me. You could fill up a 12 x 12 x 12 box for ten dollars. That's a lot of cups and saucers, my friends. This year I tended to pick up bigger pieces. My soul was drawn to bright cheerful colors, deep blues and greens.  I also found pyrex, cooking bowls, lampshades, figurines, collectible dolls (!) and Christmas ornaments. I'll show you some of my favorite pieces. 

I came home with the peaceful green dishes below, not to sell, but for me. And it was fun to hunt for matching dishes and color patterns to mix and match on the table. I found two Phoenix Bird Nippon Japan plates (see below) some Stangl Pottery and bowls and cups to match my personal collection of Johnson Brothers Devonshire England. Eight boxes and two wagon loads later it was time to take my hat home. I'd caused enough trouble for one day and I had enough inventory for a good long while. It's like Christmas going through the boxes! 
Why did I put my snacks in the bottom 
of the wagon? Banana squished. Water crushed.
peaceful green

Cheerful yellow
Buttercup Faire Meadow by Spode

Phoenix Bird Japan

Stangl Blue pottery. It had a red sticker 
but I can't find any damage. Love it!

The hunt is so much fun! This girl is happy and tired. And for the record, Homer....I can go street cred if I need to!

Goodnight John Boy.
It was a good day.

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Monday, September 19, 2022

Monday Mimisms ~ Crossing Over

The whole world is watching a funeral today. 
Even when you're not personally attached to the dead, all kinds of responses well up and fill your eyes. We've been moved by the dignity and quiet grace of the British people during the mourning people for the late Queen Elizabeth II. The most poignant images for me were of those in the queue, people standing for hours and hours to simply say 'Thank you' and pay respects. I haven't seen this level of humility and tenderness on such a grand scale since the death of Princess Diana.  

I had a sense throughout the services (and yes, I got up at 5:30 this morning to watch the Live ceremony)....that all in all, The Queen was a good person. She had the capacity to soothe, nurture, and unite people even in death.

  I think of her as a gentle agitator
We need more gentleness in the world; and we certainly need more gentle people to agitate. Your work on Earth is done, Queen Elizabeth... but I have a very strange sense that somewhere in the highlands of Scotland, a rustling can be heard in the treetops. I know you're creating a sparkling new voyage with your Prince, surveying the lay of the land and making your journey to a whole new plane of existence. That's why they call it crossing over.   
A passageway is just another door. Welcome home. 

Photo credit: Mimi Lenox
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Monday, September 5, 2022

Monday Mimisms ~ I Need a Maid and Fast!

Everything's OK until I do one of these three things - Hang up clothes on hangers in the closet, wash dishes or type. Apparently I've re-injured a previous situation (feels like shades of a bulging disc) and the rotator cuff tear that keeps on giving.

Several weeks ago I picked up a small case of bottled water in the store and put it in my cart. Ouch. I felt that. Weeks later I'm in so much pain that I'm alternating Tylenol Arthritis and Ibuprofen daily, soaking in the tub and using a heating pad. I'm the type of person who just keeps pushing through even if I'm hurting. When I say "enough" you know it's really way past time to sit down.  If you know me at all, you know I can't tolerate any "real" drug for pain. If I took something like oxycodone or the like, I'd be eternally asleep...perhaps for real!

What's so frustrating is that it's suddenly exacerbated by normal activities. I don't wake up in pain. It doesn't even hurt to walk. It happens when I do the aforementioned things after breakfast (laundry, blogging, dishes, real life). But I knew I might be in trouble when I picked up an egg carton last week (just 12 eggs) and the weight of it caused me to hurt. 

I'll see you on the flipside of tomorrow. Right now I need to quickly post some peace and talk to a few friends online (scratch that) on the PHONE. There's just one problem - it hurts to pick up the phone. Yes, the phone is suddenly "HEAVY"...arggh

Somebody get that dog out of here. 
Where's my heating pad??!!

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Monday, August 29, 2022

Phone Calls and Fowls ~ Monday Mimisms

I'm thinking of two men this morning. One of them in Heaven and the other far removed from my life. The first held me on the day I was born; the second I could not hold. 

Today is the first day of school for Beans. Fifth grade! How is this possible? And yet he is bright and loving and opinionated and full of himself. Watch out, World. This boy is bold. I wouldn't change a thing about him. He has a teasing sense of humor (in the "gotcha!" kind of way) Reminds me of my dad, whose day was never complete without telling a corny joke. Now I realize that most times he just wanted to make me laugh (I rarely obliged) but it didn't stop him from raucously laughing out loud at himself. I miss that laugh. When he was in the hospital in his final days, he told the nurse that he did NOT want chicken on his lunch tray. (He hated chicken) She asked..."Whyyyyy won't you eat chicken? It's good for you." His eyes got huge and he looked at her like she'd lost her mind. He raised up in the bed and yelled, "Cause it's foul!!"

Wait for it. I heard the laugh. The entire cardiac unit from the end of one hallway to the other heard the laugh. Even in the dreaded hospital hours
Daddy in his shop..."tinkering"

Which brings me back to the first day of school.

 I am missing a phone call today. Every day for thirteen years of the twenty-two years I taught middle grades, he would call me on the first day of school. He wanted to see how my classes were and if all went well. And then....wait for it.....the "joke" would come. "You're STILL in middle school, Sis?" Ha ha! "Yes, Daddy, I'm STILL in middle school, but this time I'm the teacher, Daddy (wink wink). And then resigning to the routine I'd always say,  "I'm never going to get out of middle school! Not ever!!" And then we would laugh.   He's been gone for thirteen years and I so wish he would call to see if I'm still in middle school. 

And even though his teasing put me off at times, I know it was his way of connecting with me (his sullen serious child) and all things told this side of eternity..
I wouldn't change a thing. 

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