It’s been three years since the green roof was planted on Vancouver’s new convention centre.
Is it a success? Is it as good as they promised it would be?
The answer is that some parts are terrific — attractive, quality planting; a beautiful habitat for songbirds and insect life.
But other areas are untidy, scrubby, a bit of a mess; you might even say, an eyesore, and a fair ways from what they could or should be.

Overall, the roof is more a success than a flop, but there’s definitely room for improvement, so the designers should not spend too much time patting themselves on the back. There’s still some refining work to do.
Covering 2.4 hectares (just over six acres), it is still the largest living roof in Canada and the largest non-industrial green roof in North America.
But being 10 storeys above ground, you can’t see much of it from street level, say from outside the Fairmont Pacific Rim at Canada Place.
The roof is mostly visible to people working in adjacent highrise office blocks, such as the Shaw Tower, or living in luxury condos opposite.

Read more at the Vancouver Sun.

To Touch You More

My New Year’s resolution made over a decade ago was to touch people more. To break that social wall that keeps our hands and bodies a safe distance from one other. To connect more physically.

I’m speaking of the non-sexual variety of contact. We all know when someone is touching us with sexual undertones. That may or may not be welcome. I wanted to offer the kind of touch that wouldn’t be misconstrued.

This was not easy at first. Not because people weren’t receptive; they were. People generally love touch. They bask in it. They appreciate it on a cellular level.

It was a challenge because I wasn’t sure how to do it. My German family is not the touchy-feely sort. Stiff, awkward hugs. Overly firm pats on the back. Touching others freely hadn’t been habituated into me, so it took some training.

But soon, my hands and body reached out to anyone in my world, whether it was via handholding or a quick massage or a touch on the cheek or a full-body hug or a head on a shoulder. Or I’d simply stand closer to people, trying not to invade, but simply enter, their space. I even began kissing some of my closest friends on the lips, which is incredibly sweet and rewarding.

How did people react? Shoulders would drop, breathing would deepen, gentle smiles would appear - people relaxed almost instantly. We so desperately crave human contact, but often aren’t even aware how hungry we are for it. And giving touch is akin to receiving it. I feel touched as well. Cosmic win/win.

Last month, while taking a bus from the Jersey shore to New York City, an older, fragile Indian man sitting across the aisle from me suddenly handed me his cellphone. I accepted it, confused and slightly nervous.

“Um…hello?”

“Hello, my uncle may be having a heart attack. He needs help. He doesn’t speak any English.”

I looked over at the older gentleman and he was grasping his chest and moaning. I went to the bus driver and explained what was happening. As I returned to my seat, the man had fallen to the floor, in the aisle.

The bus pulled over. Emergency help was contacted. Several passengers made suggestions but few had any medical training, myself included. So I resorted to my New Year’s resolution. I placed both of my hands gently on his face and began whispering in his ear, “Calm down. Calm down. Calm down.”

I then unbuttoned his shirt and placed my hands on his chest. He was very agitated and his heartbeat was frighteningly rapid, so it took some time, but finally his breathing resumed to somewhat normal. At one point, he opened his eyes to look at me and they were filled with gratitude. No clumsy words needed.

When the police finally arrived, they instructed everyone off of the bus. (Another was waiting to take us to our destination.) I was afraid if my hands left his body, he would become unwell again. The cop didn’t really want to hear my spiritual take on the situation, so I got up to leave.

Almost immediately, the man’s breathing became erratic and his eyes glazed over and looked filmy. I left the bus feeling a sense of peace regardless. Strangely, I could feel his essence on me for quite some time, like an energetic imprint of some sort.

Fortunately, the man was fine. (His relatives left me a lovely message the next day.) But it was then I realized that touching was something beyond “feel good.” We live for it. I live for it.

So that is my first (and only) working New Year’s resolution - one that would change my life on a level beyond words.

King spent 29 years in solitary confinement in a six-by-nine-foot cell at Angola Louisiana State Penitentiary.

King was convicted of robbery in 1969 despite the testimony of the main witness who admitted he picked King out of a lineup after being tortured.

King escaped from the Orleans Parish Prison and joined the Black Panther Party in New Orleans—five years after the federal government passed the Civil Rights Act.

He was recaptured within weeks of his escape and sent to Angola, then considered the bloodiest prison in America, in the spring of 1972 where he met Black Panthers Albert Woodfox and Herman Wallace in solitary confinement.

They became informally known as the “Angola 3.”  Woodfox and Wallace remain in solitary confinement, while King was released on time served in February 2011.

King learned the power of creative, physical activity while he was in Closed Cell Restriction (CCR), also known as extended lockdown, at Angola.

Unlike the other living spaces on Angola’s 18,000-acre prison grounds, the CCR cells did not have a slot for passing food to inmates.  King had to eat from his plate through the bars while the plate was on the floor or while he balanced the plate in mid-air.

As a solution, King built a cardboard food tray and hung it from strings outside his cell. “All the guys began to do it.  Some guys got creative about it. They drew pictures on their trays. They covered them in table clothes. We had fun with it,” King says.

They also made chess boards out of tissue paper.  They fastened sixty-four tissue squares to their concrete floors with toothpaste to make chessboards. They made expertly sculpted tissue paper rooks and kings.

Read more at Gimundo.

For me gift giving is about giving proper Gifts, thoughtful Gifts, Gifts from the heart. The ones you made/bought/collected with the person at heart. Those are the most valuable and fun ones to give.

I hear you on the receiving part. But I also have that feeling when giving a gift. The not knowing how the receiving party is going to react - that’s just as satisfying.

A couple of months ago I gave a friend of mine a cake I made especially for him. It wasn’t something you can buy in a shop, it requires a bit of effort and love and care. It came right out of my heart. So I was realy curious what he would think of it. His reaction made a real impression on me. I barely see that reaction on people anymore. The look on his face when he received it - the thrill, the thankfulness…the sheer appreciation. Immense joy! It really felt I made a connection.

And I think that’s what’s it all about. Walking that extra mile, putting in that extra effort. Giving your love and make that connection.

Whishing you a warm loving Xmas spend amongst your loved ones
BIG HUG,
Ingrid

Soul Kitchen is a new restaurant opened in Red Bank, New Jersey, by Jon Bon Jovi and his wife, Dorothea. The establishment offers a “pay what you can afford” payment model, and serves wholesome, gourmet food made with fresh ingredients grown in the restaurant’s garden, and other local produce.

On the website, they explain that Soul Kitchen is “A community restaurant with no prices on the menu; customers donate to pay for their meal. If you are unable to donate you may do volunteer work in exchange for your family’s meal.”

But as NJ.com reports, this is no soup kitchen serving up desperation and gruel. “The décor is upscale. Patrons don’t wait in line — they are waited on.”

Read more.

MYSTIC, Conn. (AP) - When retired Stonington lobsterman Jim Henry was 91 he decided it was time he taught himself how to read and write.

And now seven years later, at the age of 98, Henry is a published author.

Henry recently signed copies of his just-released book, “In a Fisherman’s Language,” at Academy Point, the senior housing project where he lives. A larger public signing is being planned for December, and the book will be soon be available at www.fishermanslanguage.com.

The book is a collection of short stories such as the time he was unable to save a fellow fisherman who fell overboard, his time as professional boxer and his arrival by boat from Portugal with his parents. Many of the stories involve his career on the ocean.

The cover of the book, which is published by Fowler Road Press of North Stonington, is a close-up black and white photo of Henry’s right hand as he writes on a piece of paper.

On Tuesday, the day before the signing, Henry was at the desk in his apartment.

He was beaming.

“I feel so good about doing this. I don’t know what to do or what to say,” he said. “I feel like I was just born.”

In recent days, Henry said people who have read the first copies of the book have told him they can’t believe they were now talking to the author.

“Here I am, nothing but a fisherman before and now everyone is looking up to me. It makes me feel so happy,” he said.

Source: News8.com