My resolutions usually include getting in better shape, but that one's perpetual and a given. It's the rest of the list that inspires (and torments) me as the days and months slip away. (In truth, by the end of the month, my list is long forgotten. Either the "suggestions" have become a part of my conscience and subconsciousness, or they're pushed to the possibility of a future list, or for some, the land of nevermore.

Okay, okay, I've been delinquent. But there's a blog brewing in my brain as we speak and I'll try to get it posted soon. Thanks for your patience and understanding. Hope it will be worth the wait!

And now for some shameless self promotion...I have holiday cards available again this year. New designs from my original paintings. The best part is, the proceeds help us help the children in rural Thailand. With the turmoil going on over there now, they continue to need our help with everyday necessities. You can check out the details at BBHsings.com.

Hope your holiday season is off to a grand beginning!

"God is in your pocket change, your job is giving it to strangers."

That's a line from my favorite Billy Jonas song, "God Is In". I like the song so much I included it on my "Breath By Breath" CD.

As I walked up to our post office the other day, I noticed a young woman sitting on the marble steps. She was dressed simply and carried no bag, purse, or suitcase. She looked at me, as though she was sizing me up, but didn't speak. As I walked past, a man came out the door and she immediately called to him, "Sir, sir!". He ignored her and walked on as though she didn't exist.

When I came out of that same door a few moments later, she looked at me again. She hesitated a moment, and then she said, "Do you have 50 cents you can give me?" I replied (honestly), "Not on me", and continued walking toward the van. She hesitated again, and then said, "Do you have it in your car?" To this I mumbled, "Let me check."

I knew I had 50 cents in the van, but my mind was racing along trying to decide if I would give it to her, this stranger on the street, or just be about my day. We're in our own economic struggle these days. We live a modest life, but with the price of gas, food, health insurance, and everything else going through the roof, we're worried what the future has in store for us.

But that line from Billy's song danced in my mind, pulled at my conscience, and moved me into motion. I grabbed all the change I could find, (not much, maybe a couple dollars worth), and headed back over to pour it into her hands. As I walked up to her, her face broke into a beautiful smile and she said, "Thank you so much!" To which I replied, "I wish it were more", and I meant it.

Walking back to the van, my eyes brimmed with tears... Did they spring from the joy of the gift, doing the right thing, helping a fellow human being? Or were they tears of sadness that someone so young had to beg for help on the street? I suppose in her case, there are worse alternatives, but it still fills me with grief that so many citizens of this country struggle to survive, without a home or regular meals, while others have such an overabundance. I can't reconcile the disparity in my mind or in my heart.

I've heard so much talk lately about "Robin Hood economics". As I recall the story, Robin Hood robbed from the rich and gave to the poor. Some think this is a bad thing. Personally, if I were to ask myself, "What would Jesus do?", I think He, Robin Hood, and I, would be singing Billy's song in three part harmony.

I recently finished reading "Three Cups of Tea" - Promoting Peace One School at a Time. Have you read it yet? I'm usually not the first one on my block to read a best selling book, so this may be old news to you, but it's truly worth your time.

Tonight, Michelle Obama gave her speech at the convention in Denver. She spoke of her life growing up and about their two little girls and their future. I can't help but think about the differences in today's society and what it was like when I was a child, it makes me wonder what it will be like for children in the years to come.

For one thing, I'm grateful to have been raised during an era when TV was more of a novelty than an every minute of everyday baby-sitter. As children, we had more fun playing Capture The Flag outside with the rest of the kids in the neighborhood. It would grow dark as we played and we wouldn't even notice. Pretty soon I'd hear our bell ring and that was a sign for us all that it was time to head home for the night. (That's right, the Bailey family had a bell attached to the back of our house. Any time my folks wanted us home, all they had to do was ring the bell. It was a precursor to the ubiquitous cells phones that all the kids have these days.)

Every season had it's outdoor activities. In the fall we raked leaves into huge piles to play in. We'd eventually burn them up, but not before they were jumped into, driven through on bicycles, and shaped into the various "rooms" of our imaginary mansions.

In the winter, you'd find us outside making icy snow forts, or skating on the amazing hockey rink our neighbors set up every year. It took up their whole back yard and it was the smoothest ice!

Of course in the Spring we ran home with our jackets flying behind us, eager to get out of our school clothes and back outside to ride a bike, fly a kite, or play catch in the backyard.

I don't see kids playing together outside so much these days. They have their TVs, computers, and ipods, but all those things seem to lead to isolation more than they foster communication. Now, it seems personal contact is always buffered by something electronic. It makes me a little sad to think about all the outdoor everyday fun today's kids are missing.

I have a friend who grew up in Thailand. Her favorite toy was a piece of red cloth. I suppose that's another blog all together....

We had the privilege of spending a few precious days at the Chautauqua Institution earlier this week.

Here's just a bit of info for those who may not be aware of this remarkable place. The Chautauqua Institution, founded (in 1874) on the belief that everyone "has a right to be all that (s)he can be -- to know all that (s)he can know." is a thriving community where visitors come to find intellectual and spiritual growth and renewal. The Chautauqua platform has established itself as a national forum for open discussion of public issues, international relations, literature and science. Chautauqua offers enhanced learning opportunities in music, the arts, religion, recreation and the pursuit of knowledge.

Oh, and how about this...Thomas Edison was the son-in-law of Chautauqua cofounder Lewis Miller and owned a house on the grounds. George Gershwin composed his Concerto in F in a Chautauqua practice shack in 1925. The Athenaeum Hotel was one of the first hotels to have electric lights (wired by Thomas Edison!). Eleanor Roosevelt (and her husband!) have spoken there. The room we slept in at the Wensley House has been occupied by Margaret Mead.

Let's talk about the Wensley House. It's a lovely vintage home that is now used as lodging for the elite speakers, artists, musicians, and dignitaries who grace the many stages, halls, and galleries of Chautauqua. Every evening before dinner, the current residents of the Wensley gather on the second floor porch for conversation and a glass of wine. Christo and I found ourselves in the company of Dr. Melvyn Leffler and his wife Phyllis, as well as Ambassador Vicki Huddleston and her husband Bob, an artist, a maestro, and a master gardener. All in all, it was an eclectic and very interesting group of people. The conversation was comfortable and relaxed, and yet thought-provoking and captivating. It was a gift to be a part of such a moment in time.

We attended both Mel's and Vicki's lectures and I must admit, as we listened to their impressive introductions and subsequent insightful lectures, we were struck (perhaps I should say awestruck!) by how fortunate we were to have had the opportunity to chat with them on the porch before dinner and over morning coffee. We even talked politics without pushing an agenda or stumping a candidate.

One afternoon we attended the opening of a new art exhibit after having tea with one of my new best friends. Her name is Jean and she's in her eighties. As Jean herself said, "We think alike!". Earlier in the day she had attended a gay and lesbian lecture simply because she wants to support the advancement of tolerance. (Jean is not gay.) The two of us had a lovely conversation that would have lasted into the wee hours if our loved ones hadn't pried us apart to head over to the reception at the gallery.

Our first evening there, we had the opportunity to go to the opera, but had some trouble procuring tickets and would have had to have an early dinner, missing out on the gathering on the porch. It's funny how things work out for the best. Instead we made new friends and wandered over to dinner at the Athenaeum together. Following dinner, we attended an evening performance of the symphony and the ballet in the Amphitheater, a treat for all the senses.

We awoke the next morning to find the most beautiful flowers just outside our door. "Ms. Gwen", the person responsible for bringing us to Chautauqua, hand picked a gorgeous bouquet from her garden, and fought her way through an early morning, driving rainstorm to place them and a sweet card on our doorstep to wish us happy anniversary. (We're celebrating our 31st!)

Following my two family concerts Tuesday night, we attended another symphony performance in the Amphitheater. It was a different symphony and equally heavenly. One long piece featuring a marimba was beyond description. Afterward we wandered back to the Wensley for a late supper and more conversation on the porch with our new friends.

Rachel, our consummate host at the Wensley, is superb at making every guest feel like family, welcome, and well taken care of. There's an element of magic about her, always there in any moment of need. It was especially impressive when she found Vicki's lost earring lying upsidedown in the road!

This marvelous place has a nine week season every summer. Nine glorious weeks of lectures, music, art, film, theatre, water sports, and gardens galore... Would that we could be there from start to finish. For now, we'll have to settle for an occasional visit and treasure every moment.

You can learn more about it at: http://www.ciweb.org/

My friend Gene is an advocate. By definition, this means he is "a person who pleads on someone else's behalf". Last week, he asked us to help him hand out flyers at busy intersections for a couple of hours during the morning traffic surge.

The flyers consisted of one and a half sheets of paper, a copy of an article that ran in the local paper, along with a plea for a course of action. There is a one mile section of road that the county wants to spend $1,000,000 to widen. Their proposed plan would obliterate (which in this case means destroy utterly) the integrity of the sleepy, rural landscape. Large, very old trees will be removed, along with historic, hand built, rock walls.

I must admit, at first, I was a begrudging participant. We had only arrived home from the road the night before and I had been looking forward to our first morning at home. Arising at 5 AM was not part of my plan. But when Gene asked for our help, we programmed the coffeemaker and set the alarm.

The four of us met in Leiper's Fork and devised a game plan. Gene assigned us our corners and gave us stacks of flyers. He also supplied us with large signs that read "Friends of the Natches Trace* Corridor" to give folks an indication of our intentions.

By 7AM I was at my post, van parked, sign displayed, ready to begin. As the cars paraded by, nearly all of them stopping to grab one of the flyers, I found myself grateful to be a part of the action. While it's not the road on which we live, we do live in the same county, and it's most definitely a principle for which I stand. Our rural scenery is shrinking every day. It's slowly becoming homogenized. The "'little' boxes made of ticky tacky"...the houses, the stores, the signs, the people... "they all look just the same."

By the way, we were there representing the folks who live on the road and on roads immediately adjacent to it. They don't want the character of their lovely community compromised by bigger, wider, faster, straighter roads. They live there because they love the tree canopy and the stone walls. They asked us to help spread the word about the county meeting that was taking place at 8:30 the next morning. (We saw many of them at that meeting. They took off work to be there.)

Without Gene and other dedicated folks willing to speak up for others, this world would most likely be a very different place. Advocates are the conscience of our culture and I'm grateful for their presence. According to the latest news, developers are going to have their way with thousands of acres in Montana, one of the most scenic states in North America. I wonder if Gene feels like a road trip?

(*The Natchez Trace is a 440-mile-long path extending from Natchez, Mississippi to Nashville, Tennessee. It was a traditional Native Americans trail and was later also used by early European explorers as both a trade and transit route in the late 1700s and early 1800s. Today, the trail has been commemorated by the 444-mile-long Natchez Trace Parkway, which follows the approximate path of the trace. The trail itself has a long and rich history, filled with brave explorers, dastardly outlaws and daring settlers.)