My centesimal post
So this is my 100th post. I am amazed I have kept up with this over the past year and a half. Maybe because I didn’t force myself to blog every day. I have enjoyed my first 100 posts and I hope you have as well. I love writing and really hope you all don’t mind that my blogs are a bit random. I know people enjoy my photography, those get the most attention.
So with spring well and truly here in North Carolina I have worked around the house a bit, mostly outside. I am too terrified to start another painting project.
I have gardened. Removing Irises from one bed and moving them to another. Well the replanting has not begun yet, but maybe next week.

I am still working on reading Scott Peterson’s book, Let The Swords Encircle Me. Even with a degree in History I am really slow reading Non Fiction. I vowed when I finished my MA that I would never get involved in something where I had to read nonfiction for an assignment, because it could take me a year to finish the book. Yes I know I read a lot, but I can only manage a few dozen pages of a nonfiction book before I need a break. The book is fascinating though, a real look into the mind of the Iranian people. Scott is a very accessible writer which makes it easier to read the book. It feels more like a conversation with him and not a massive book about Iran, the revolution and recent activities there.
Everything with my mother’s estate is pretty much getting caught up and taken care of. Eventually the houses will be sold and my ties with that side of the family will be at conclusion.
One of my good friends is getting married in just over a week. I know she would accuse me of getting to into finding the right dress and shoes, but I didn’t really have anything to wear. Plus I am breaking my “no heels” rule for this event.
So instead of doing something grand and profound I thought this might be more fun.
I think I will close with a Poem I believe my grandfather wrote to my grandmother during their courtship
I’m thinking of that island we talk about still. Daydreaming as it is called. What I see is this:
An island in the sunset
Set apart from the rest of the world
Where love can grow unmolested
By a nation’s flag unfurled
With beaches of pure white sand
Untouched by human feet
A place where only love
With hatred would never meet
That’s the island I’m looking for
The island I think about
An island of love and happiness
From the hate of the world locked out
But I’ll never find this island
The way I want it to be
Unless the one I love
Goes on this trip with me
The trip is a long and hard one
A real journey for two
It means forgetting everything
Except the “me” and the “you”
There can’t be any turning back
Or memories to change the mind
There can’t be any suspicions
If this island we are to find
For it’s only for those who are willing
To start their lives a new
To occupy this island which
I am describing to you
No, this island is not in the ocean
Nor of this world a small part
This island of love and happiness
Lies right here in my heart
So I’d like to inhabit my island
To live there the rest of my days
With a partner in love and happiness
Who will understand my ways.