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Peacekeepers at the Polls

Yesterday Abbie and I voted.  After a rainy day it was still misting a bit late afternoon and seemed like a time when less people would be attempting in-person early voting at the Board of Elections on Morse Rd.  So we headed out.  The line was still quite long (partly due to social distancing guidelines, well-marked on the pavement) but it moved surprisingly quickly and we were in and out in about a half hour.  I was encouraged that the large majority of people wore masks, even outside.  People mostly kept to themselves in line, but all the interactions I observed were respectful.  Once inside it was impressive to be part of an efficient and well-organized process of confirming ID and being directed to a voting booth that had plenty of distance from adjacent booths.  For those who want to vote in person but don’t want to wait until election

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Daily Connector | Spring is in the air | Marlene Suter

I’m dreaming of spring. I know, it’s only October, but this is the time of year when I plant spring-flowering bulbs and anticipate those first few days of warm sunshine and signs of new life. Spring is hands-down my favorite season, and my love for spring flowers is a big part of that. I order bulbs from a couple websites, and I supplement those by browsing the bulb bins at Oakland nursery. I have lists of bulbs I ‘need’ generated from garden maps and notes from previous years’ plantings. I spend hours planning, flipping through catalogs and imagining new combinations in the garden. Some would call it crazy. I call it fun. And challenging. And soul-nurturing. I placed my orders early this year (a little extra time on my hands), around mid-September. One company was out of a couple ‘important’ varieties, so I had to alter the plan and order

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Daily Connector | What I Found Challenging and Difficult | Dan Halterman

The prompt was “what I find challenging or difficult now.” A recent experience was and is difficult and challenging.  Nearly weekly since mid-June, I’ve biked with my signs to Cleveland Avenue and shared their messages – “…and justice for ALL” and “Know Justice, Know Peace.”  The latter adds a bit of thinking, which seems in short supply. I learned it from Mennonites and I prefer it to the standard “No justice, No peace” chant that to me sounds aggressive. I made similar signs for the advertised and heavily-attended Black Lives Matter demonstrations at North Broadway and High in early June, then decided my new neighborhood needn’t go without.  And I could go without a crowd or advertising, which was a bit unnerving originally and less so each time.  Cleveland Avenue is less than half the distance to High Street, anyway. So I stand by the road, one sign facing northbound

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Daily Connector | Stillness & a Cup of Coffee | Lavonne van der Zwaag

Recently I was surprised with a package from Julia Cameron. In it was an advance copy of her new book, The Listening Path:  The Creative Art of Attention, scheduled to be released on January 12, 2021. In her introductory letter accompanying the book Cameron writes, “The listening path…asks us to take a moment to stop and listen—and argues that the moment spent tuning in, especially when we think we ‘don’t have time’ doesn’t take time, but gives us time…and clarity, connection, and direction as well.” The book is structured much like her book, The Artist’s Way, in that she provides exercises at the end of each chapter that help us experience what she has just shared. I was gifted with this book because I agreed to read it, do the exercises, and provide thoughtful feedback. So I’ve incorporated it into my morning routine. Listening by its very nature seems to

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Daily Connector | Discovering my Polish Roots: The Letter | Larry Less

The Polish history of my family has been shrouded in mystery.  My Grandfather Marcin (Martin) Les(s) immigrated from Poland in 1912, travelling alone at the age of 19 as I learned from a passenger list of the steamer Cincinnati that departed from Hamburg.   He died when I was about a year old and my father passed away when I was 13.  Although we were somewhat close to aunts and uncles who lived on Polish Hill in Pittsburgh, we never discussed much about the “old country.”  Being a labor economist for the State of Ohio, I had the good fortune in 1996 to be invited by the Bureau of Labor Statistics to write a research paper and present it at a weeklong conference held in Warsaw that summer.  So I made a trip over to Polish Hill to ask my relatives what else they could tell me about our Polish heritage,

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