Prayingforoneday is now ShaunyNews – Shaun Gibson – PLEASE REBLOG!

Please help him find his friends. Thank you.

Originally posted on shaunynews:


Since I had to delete my old blog and start a new one I am asking PLEASE if people can give this a quick reblog?

I lost a ton of friends I liked talking to. I am getting about 5/10 a day added back but I would really like to hook back up with a few people.

I ask as the best friend you have to PLEASE RE-Blog this so I can find some friends like you again

I would be grateful WordPress if you could do this for me

More love, less hate


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It’s Spring and time for planting tomatoes,peppers, and kale in my tiny vegetable garden in the back yard. And time, too, for memories of Eddie Albert’s acre of land in Pacific Palisades.  He and Margo had a two-storey Spanish type house, comforting and welcoming.In the back, (called the garden by Margo and the back yard by Eddie), was a patio, a pool, a large, emerald-green lawn, trees, a profusion of colorful flowers, and a hydroponic greenhouse. In the front were trees, flowers, and a lawn until, one day, Eddie decided the grass had to go. Up came the grass and down went the corn seeds.  In the front of this lovely house, one of many on Amalfi Drive,he planted his own little field of corn. It grew. And grew. And grew. Neighbors were, at first, in shock. Corn on their exclusive Amalfi? Then, some became interested. One lady, seeing Eddie working in the yard and failing to recognize him, asked if she could hire him to do her garden. His reply: “I’m sorry. I only work here. Besides, I get to sleep with the lady of the house.”  She left quickly. I think he slept on the couch that night.As for the corn? It was harvested, properly cooked, and eaten. At dinner one night, Eddie asked us how it tasted. “Great!” we all echoed. “Good,” he said, “since it only cost me about $20 an ear to grow.”

Sometimes, he was given to exaggeration. Eddie loved the beach, and when he was on hiatus from “Green Acres” or not working on a film, he spent a lot of time there walking and swimming and relaxing.  One time, a “TV Guide” reporter was interviewing him about his leisure activities and Eddie told him. Then, he added, “But when funds get low, Pat comes down to the beach and tells me to get off my ass and go to work.”  Never happened, but he thought it was amusing. I didn’t.

Margo and I took care of most of Eddie’s day-to-day business and professional appointments, seeing that things ran,we hoped, smoothly. He always had lists of chores for us. I could have 20 things to do and had taken care of 19 of them before his questions. To me, it was “Whatever happened to….?” (Fill in the blank with the 20th unaccomplished assignment so far).  Before my answer, he would wander off into the sunset. To Margo, it was “Did you remember to…….?” before he disappeared over the horizon. After about a year of this, Margo and I decided enough was enough. One night she told him about his little quirk and that it was driving us looney. The next day when I arrived for work, she said, “He is totally unaware that he does that.”  All was quiet on the western front for about a week, Then, one day right after lunch, before he left the house for an appointment, he paused in the doorway, turned to look at both of us, and said, “Whatever happened to…..?” smiled, and faded away like the Cheshire Cat.  You really have to love a guy like that. And I did until he left us at the age of 99, when people started asking, “Whatever happened to Eddie Albert?”



My most valued friend, Margo Albert (God rest her beautiful soul) was always devastated when an older friend died. Vincent Price said to her one time,”Margo, when you have friends older than you, they are most likely going to die first. You have to come to terms with that.”  I remembered that this morning when I received a phone call from the daughter of my friend for sixty years, Eve. She was a trained stage actress, married, with two children. She settled down to appear in many, many plays and to teach acting classes at the Reno Little Theatre in Nevada, where she became known as  “the Anna Magnanni of Reno.” Later, she became a drama teacher at the high school. We met at the theatre where I also acted, and formed a close family relationship with each other and our children. After I moved, she came to California to visit me, and we spent every evening going to plays in Los Angeles.  We traveled together to Italy, Greece, and Yugoslavia. She was a vibrant lady with a strong presence, both physically and personally, and a wonderful sense of humor about herself and the world. I remember her telling me that the first time she saw herself in a  three-way mirror, she cried. We cried together at times; most of the time, we laughed.  Those days are gone.  Her daughter, Deb, called to tell me that Eve died at the age of ninety-two a week ago.  Yes, she was five years older than I am, but that doesn’t seem to matter, Vincent.  Age has nothing to do with the presence of a friend or the complexity or intensity of the friendship.  I miss you, Eve.  I will miss you to the end of my life.

Earth Hour – 29 March 2014

Observe Earth Hour while we still have a planet.

Originally posted on Mungai and the Goa Constrictor:

Today, Saturday 29th March 2014, billions of peoplein over one hundred and fifty countries (that means over seven thousand cities) will turn out the lights. A World Wide Fund for Nature (WWF) initiative, dating back to 2007, has once again united the world in an effort to bring attention to energy consumption, sustainability and climate change issues.

This remarkable annual global occurrence takes place between 8.30 pm and 9.30 pm (YOUR) local time.  Starting in New Zealand and ending in Tahiti, lights of some of the world’s most iconic monuments, landmarks and skylines will be switched off. Many will also turn off their televisions, computers, Xboxes and PlayStations, and any other power-driven gadgets they have.  

This is undoubtedly the largest ever collaboration to help safeguard the planet, and numbers of participants are growing every year. The hour has, in many places, evolved into something much longer. Environmental projects are taking…

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Asking for a Re-Blog

Originally posted on HarsH ReaLiTy:

I have never asked for a reblog before, but if you have the time and wouldn’t mind reblogging or sharing this I would personally appreciate it. I have decided to really go for this and try to provide some sort of marketing/blogging consulting to those wanting the help and willing to pay. It might sound silly, but there are plenty of authors, photographers, bloggers, and entrepreneurs that are horrible at marketing themselves.

I cannot guarantee views, comments, or sales. I can guarantee for a contract a subscriber number increase. The rest is really up to you. I follow a business model which I have shared HERE which shows that I use 33.3% of my time gathering followers, 33.3% of my time writing, and 33.3% of my time interacting and socializing. That is how I blog. Many people can’t afford the time to “gather followers” or don’t know how. That is…

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A Word About Words – Stephen Fry

Thank you to Unload and Unwind for this magnificent meander by Fry. I would like to read it every day.

Originally posted on Unload and Unwind:

stephen-fry-incuriosity-56200 I came across this first thing this morning when taking a quick look at Facebook. My son had put this up on his page, mentioning having watched it in a lecture regarding language of the ‘proper’ use thereof and I found it both utterly hilarious as well as more than a little on the money.  So it seems we have a winner for the lead spot that will take us into the Weekend Funny Challenge while at the same time making more than just one point regarding the written word and all its possibilities in a way that only Stephen Fry could manage.  Don’t forget that the Weekend Challenge starts midnight tonight EST – so have your quirks, stories and laughs all lined up so we can all see just What Makes You Laugh.

Posting in March

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If you stroll down Sunset Boulevard in West Hollywood today, you’ll find bars and restaurants and a comedy store with prosaic names and prosaic food. If you had strolled down it in the 1940′s, you would have found one classy nightclub/restaurant after another. The Players was a one-of-a-kind establishment featuring a full stage that appeared and disappeared at the flick of  switch and a bar and restaurant that catered to celebrities. Walk in and find top actors, producers, and directors mingling socially or making deals.  I had my first drink there. My parents and I were having dinner with Mark Hellinger( producer of “The Killers”) and his wife, former Ziegfeld showgirl, Gladys Glad. I had known them all of my eighteen years.  Mark looked at me. “Have you ever had a cocktail?” he asked.  “No.” He laughed. “Well, this is the night.” Calling over a waiter, he ordered drinks for the table, including a pink cocktail called “Angel’s Tit” for me. As I remember, it was sweet and not too potent. It was also at the Players where Thomas Mitchell use to go to drink and charge his tab to my father’s account.

Down the road, there were equally interesting night spots….Trocadero, Mocambo, and Ciro’s.  One night my parents and friends were having dinner at Ciro’s. The main table was crowded, so my friends and I (two returned servicemen, and the girlfriend of one of them) had our own table nearby.  We were having a great time, laughing and talking, when, suddenly, we were joined by two from the main table….Peter Lawford and Keenan Wynn sat themselves down with us, saying, “You’re having more fun over here. Can we sit with you?”

Nearby, around the Sweetzer Street environs, was Schwab’s Pharmacy, where it was rumored Lana Turner was discovered at the soda fountain. Movie industry people stopped by for newspapers and sodas and gossip. Close to that was The Garden of Allah, a hotel often housing the visiting New York writers and performers.  Up the street on Sunset Boulevard, sat the Beverly Hills Hotel and its Sand and Pool Club and tennis courts. When I was 18 and 19, I was a member of that club and often went to swim and bask in the sand all year around.  I used to take my girlfriends to spend the day with me. Marge was a nightclub singer. Pat was the daughter of a famous screenwriter. Virginia Weidler was an actress, who had played Katherine Hepburn’s sister in “The Philadelphia Story” and the daughter in “The Women,” when she was younger, and a couple of Judy Garland/Mickey Rooney films as a teenager. We had wonderful times. It was there by the pool that I introduced Virginia to her “to be” husband, just returned from the war.  A few years later, we would meet and take our babies shopping with us.

Over the hill, in Beverly Hills, there were Romanoff’s, Chasen’s, and The House of Murphy. When I was a very little girl, my father had introduced me to “Prince Mike Romanoff.”  I was  dazzled by the dapper little man, believing he was a real prince.  Of course, he wasn’t, but he was charming and made a huge success of his restaurant. At The House of Murphy one evening, my parents and I were having dinner with Jimmy Durante and his entourage of Eddie Jackson, Jack Roth, etc. There happened to be a piano in the room, and that’s all the invitation Jimmy needed. He was up and over there, pounding on the keys and singing “Inka Dinka Doo.”  He paused after that, and from the back of the room strolled Bill Frawley (long before the “I Love Lucy” days) singing “Nothin’ Could Be Finer Than To Be in Carolina in the Morning.”  That was all it took.  Everyone  joined in. Then, Jimmy played “Won’t You Come Home, Bill Bailey?” while Eddie Jackson sang it and did the cakewalk. The guys were on for the rest of the night.

In Hollywood, there was The Brown Derby,where movie stars had themselves paged so everyone would know they were there. My father had a New York detective friend, Johnny Broderick, one of the toughest on the force. Hauling in gangsters by the score, his reputation preceded him, and some of the guys he was after simply surrendered rather than  face Johnny’s less than gentle tactics. When he came to California to visit, we always had dinner at The Brown Derby where we sang  until closing time. Johnny loved all the old Irish songs and the ones from his younger days.No one ever objected. Who in his right mind was going to tell Johnny Broderick to shut up?

During World War2, the servicemen all wanted to go to the Paladiuim on Sunset Blvd. where the big bands played…..Tommy Dorsey, Glenn Miller, Stan Kenton, Harry James, Artie Shaw. All the top bands appeared, and it was there I took my visiting servicemen to dance the night away. At The Hollywood Canteen, where my aunt organized entertainment for servicemen, Betty Grable greeted them and they danced with movie stars who volunteered for the evening. On Sundays,my aunt held open house ( in the house in which I now live) for the boys. Because rationing of butter and sugar was fierce, the servicemen donated stamps for the ingredients, and my aunt baked pies and cakes and cookies for them.  She had a baby grand piano in the living room and played while they sang. My uncle, a radio,movie, television actor and comedian, told them stories about show business and generally entertained them.  For many, it was a home away from home.

It was a different age and time, the forties, when people were kind, when they were happy to find  entertainment with one another, to share the simpler pleasures, and take time to enjoy them.


Ex-showgirl, ex-mother, purebred Persian, Angelique, came to us as an adopted child when she was seven years old, four years ago. Having been raised in a cattery as a show cat and,later, as a breeder, it was a difficult adjustment for her to move into our little house already run by our four-year-old Maine Coon mix male, Gabriel, who wanted to play immediately and, when thwarted, chased her around the house just for fun. She had never learned to play, but she tried.Toys held no interest for her; it was the lazer light across the floor that sent her little legs skittering after it. Her name when she came to us was Cloud. No. After observing her for a little while, I decided on Angelique, more queenly,more suited to her personality.  And, she was a  drama queen. An endearing one. Basically, she and Gabriel tolerated one another, but there were times when he would enter the room, and the act was on.’Oh, here he is. Time for me to regally walk away.” There were other times when they both slept with my daughter, one at her head, the other at her side.When Angelique was through conversing with my daughter and me,she would coolly turn around and sit, with her back to us, signalling the end of that discussion.

And,then, at age eleven, she gave up eating, drinking, defecating, and sleeping in the room where she usually held court on a chaise . She chose to sleep at the foot of my twin bed, sometimes half under it. After an ultrasound, it was determined that she had rare case of intussusception of the stomach, one that three veterinarians had never before encountered.

Yesterday, we had a consultation with our compassionate veterinarian. It was decision time, and we made one. We also made an appointment for the next morning. By now, she was hiding underneath my bed, in the area beneath my pillow.  Last night, she emerged to look around. I lifted her up onto the bed to have a petting fest for ten minutes. Then, it was under the bed once more  to sleep. Two more times, she emerged, as if to say, “When are we going?” She knew, and she was ready. At 8:30 this morning, my daughter wrapped her up in two blankets and carried her to the car. She made no protest. She accepted it all.  We stayed with her until she became a little spirit. We stayed for ten minutes afterwards. All the things the vet told us might happen after her demise didn’t. When we arrived back home, Gabriel looked at me and then went inside my room, inspecting all the places where she had slept, as if paying her his last farewell.And so, Angelique, our brave, four-pound showgirl, died with class, just the way she had lived.

A special note of thanks to all of you kind, caring bloggers who expressed your feelings and compassion and understanding  that helped sustain me through this difficult time. Bless you.




She is a four-pound,  eleven-year-old, white Persian, ex-showgirl, drama queen called Angelique. Disdaining food, water, and any activity, she has been lying, brave and quiet, on an Indian blanket at the foot of my bed, her head often underneath the bottom. Yesterday, she was diagnosed with intussusception of the intestine, as shown on the ultrasound . The veterinarian says she is an unusual case, that part of the stomach folding in on itself is doing so in a way she has never seen before. Bless her, Angelique has to be unique.  If untreated, it leads to an extremely painful death. That is not acceptable. Another surgeon, at a different lab, wants to do a second ultrasound,plus an endoscopy, and a possible operation,with no guarantee that she will recover. At this stage, with her literally wasting away, I don’t believe she could survive an operation. Has anyone had experience with intussusception of a pet?  I really would appreciate any input.My daughter and I are stunned and not doing a lot of clear thinking with our heads. Our hearts are aching.

(I still cannot comment on your blogs due to some glitch with WP or Akismet. An Akismet rep is trying to work on it, or, at least, they have had me fill out a form stating the problem. Technology is wonderful when it works.  If you have any words for me, please leave a comment. I will receive it in Notifications or email and can reply there. I think. If you don’t get a reply from me, it’s because of the glitch.  Know that I am reading and enjoying your blogs and yearning to comment)


Speaking of non-communication

I have been trying, without success, to comment on several posts. I type it in, click “enter,” and “publish.”  Both register as done.  Then, when I look for my comment, there is nothing but a blank space. It’s frustrating because I want to let people know my reactions to their wonderful work. Is anyone else having this problem?  Have you ever had this problem in the past, and how do I fix it?  Help!