(C) Copyright SNOWbear Productions. T h a n k Y o u F o r V i s i t i n g


Way back when I first started BLOGGING (Web Log), I use to surf through and find interesting ones. First off they have to have the "Next Blog" option button in the top banner, catch and hold my interest somehow for more than a few moments; and (not always) but hopefully be in English [all I can read, sorry]. Who knows the Blogs I over look today my catch my attention tomorrow.
   This might even be a "NEXT BLOG" Tuesday kinda posting for me, LOL. Here are 3:

Clicking the NEXT BLOG and I found some really interesting ones...

Love Vintage stuff and it just got my eclectic attention!

Hanoi Daily Photos
I loved the black background and how the brilliant colors of the sharp fotos pulled me in!!!
 "I am only a trainee here" Caught my eye!



Smashwords together yourself into a self published book.

Itsy bity youze sales it.


Since I've got my new computer I guess it's time for this one again too!!!

ARE you Linked in to Others?

   Though I have had this page for awhile I have not updated any information here nor checked-in in a very long while. After beginning the Mentoring class at work I may be updating things a bit more.


CHANGE Who you are.





begins in the moment it's needed most!




LOL Hey! If "I" could type in a few numbers... Come on!

So, hum... Guess I'm "good to go". I still struggle in liking who I am. I guess that is what "self improvement" not competition is all about. *breathing*.. Just  need to work on toning my mid-section (ye 'ol tummy) lol.


Refresh site



   I stayed two weeks in the ICU room or sleeping in the waiting room, eating out of vending machines and scarcely venturing out of the hospital to Burger King whenever my father was in crisis. Others looked on and encouraged me out. My dad's dearest friend said he had never seen such "tenacity" before. It was the first time I ever heard the word before. I loved my father, very much. I always held him up on a pedestal, so high I never actually knew him until those last two weeks before he passed. Blunt honesty there is never a day that goes by that I do not think of him. I wear his ring and carry his face in the aging mirror before me. I endured that spiraling down of his life with cheerful smiles, jokes and constant talks with him: my youth, family and spiritual matters. After he died... *sigh* after he - passed away, the day I had to come back to work of documents... I cried. I cried like... well, The strongest soldier inside is a child my friend. Love, light and Blessings to you. I am here, and I know there are many many here and there with you in person who can lend you some of their strengths and energies. Yet, it is The Lord HIMSELF alone who builds "tenacity" with your soul, after which a deep peace and strength overcomes you, all its own that wells ups as a gift. You are your father's son, not your father. ((hugs))


Upon his death bed the old man lay there turning grey before their eyes.  He dismissed them asking they return one at a time as he asked for them and so his gathering of family and friends complied with his wishes.
   Each time one left another was called to his bed side. Each parted with a ghostly expression as though they had just given grave news as if oaths had been sworn.
Finally a newly announced widow was the last to leave his side. Amid howls of weeping anguish she abruptly yelled out, "He was having three affair and living with me!" They all gathered about to comforted the horrid expressions of the grief stricken woman.
  After many moments of shedding tears the eldest son announced, "Father... He told me.. he had killed a man in his youth, just before he married you mother. He hid his body by the river near your parents house, and that was the first time he ever saw you."
 A hush fell upon everyone in the room. The old man's only daughter gave up her father's death bed confession next with, "Father told me, that after he met you mother he stole a man's horse, sold it and that was how he paid for your wedding; the money was not from the gambling winnings after all."
   One by one the stories unfolded of a character no one ever knew. Even the old man's brother divulged, "I never knew that our aunt was really his mother and our father loved his own sister."
 The last to speak in the silence was a grandson beamed a shaky smile, "He told me he loved me best."
   Everyone burst into tears of a different kind.  For as the evening had worn on and died down into dusk better stories of heroism and a lifetime of caring deeds surfaced by all as well. Even his widow said, "Maybe he should not have released so many secrets. but in the end he was who he was, and much loved  in the open, scared and sad as he was inside."



A Universal concept,
   spirit guide of self?
Who knows the mind of
   God but him alone.
Some say he is a she
   with any name you like.
But God is deeper and
   a closer reality than that.
I heard his voice once calling
  as he pulled me from harm's way.
I talk with him still as I drive
  an unseen passenger to onlookers.
I ignore him most of the time
  only when panicked I call.
Yet The Lord God is ever there
  more than a concept and
     great than any man.


What does the future hold?
   Who knows in all those
      plans of mine.

I never thought this world
   be the destination of
      boyhood dreams.

Years from now will I
   look back then and
      say the same thing of now?

What a fool I've been to
   waste so many steps
      going no where but here.

In the future to come
   will I really have left
      the baggage of my past behind?


Brilliant eyes and a
   glowing smile,
A soft voice and a
   caring ear,
Heart of gold with an
   alluring charm,
A thousand years isn't
   enough time at all.


Twenty five years later
I hear the monitors
the day Betty died.
When Wilma passed
the stiffness was unreal.
When Michael left
a regretful void opened up.
My Dad was cold wearing
that hospital gown in
the funeral home's freezer.

Death is a lonely thing
to behold
but in the end we are all
just that - alone.


I don't remember falling asleep
but waking up was a startling
nightmare as the car hydroplaned
through the last exit for my ramp.

Twenty-three hours at work
was an exercise of character
No lunch or break just rain
and the thundering of co-workers
clambering on the lack of appreciation.


The rambling mind of a tired worker
hazed by sleep deprivation
screaming for the pillow
but being forced to be alert.
Exhaustion is manifested different:
for night owls
and the early bird
alike must crash at some
point on the ticking clock.
Staying over again isn't always
for money they pay in time.


We wish we could go back
in time and tell our
younger selves things.

But how would that cause
us then to listen
to such wisdom offered?

It wouldn't just as our children
are wiser than us till
they have kids of their own.


I use to believe I
would lived forever
die an old man.

Nothing remains the same
everything set in stone
time is a river.

As solid as today feels
yesterday is gone
tomorrow is elusive.

I remember every face seen
yet forget yesterday's meal
don't know what comes next.

Love is eternal,
Love is all I have,
Love lives beyond me.


If she really knew me
would she really love me?
I'm a simpleton
yet pretend complexity.
multiple layers of confusion.
An honest hard working
shape shifter scared
of being me.
Every day I find
something different in my skin.
Why does she love me
when I barely do myself?
A fragile new-born moth
still drawn to the destructive
flame of insanity.


Here is a little of the steps in crafting my art...
The Four Diamonds of Varlendur.
This is the Bible of my story, it was later perverted into a Cultic religion that the main character of my tale, an elf named Fayendar leaves behind and finds true love.

Leadership Training Camp


The Passing Moments...

      I was just checking my email account on my new computer. Interesting how the PC format and larger screen presents things differently.
   I was looking through all the emails I had gotten from my Dad. Wow, It was nice "hearing" his (written) voice again! I guess it's natural to say this, but just wish we had said more things to one another. Miss you Dad can't be said enough.
   To express our true feelings to one another seems regretful in the hindsight when they are no longer with us....


Illuminated Manuscript

I'm going to strive to produce my story in a style like the old mideviel manuscripts. I think after a title page of course the first "Illuminated" drawing (using Gold Leaf) will be a reproduction of my Map. For a correct timeline, sadly Ramore will not be on it.

Getting a new pet today.

Some time ago my female ( http://search.yahoo.com/search?fr=ipad&p=ferret ) Rosie passed away. Today I'll be getting a new one, she's to 
Be named Chloe.

HINT:  No one gets out of this rat race we call life, alive; so you might as well leave a legacy that remembers you with no regrets and earnestness at your core.


Michael Smith and tears


  Woke up this morning with an overwhelming sadness.
Not that old black pit of ever swallowing mouth of black suicidal doom and gloom depression.
It actually felt god to just be sad for the sake of remember the passing of someone without falling into that  dispare.



The Watcher's Book of Books