flan is just élan spelled with an f ~

Life is but a golden hour ~ and flan doesn't last forever.

Kind regards to the blog source for the ultimate flan foto and the warm context ~ read his blog
mod mealson mendenhall

http://modmealsonmendenhall.com/2009/08/17/moms-flan/flan/
flan.jpg (JPEG Image, 600x748 pixels)

Mom’s Flan � Mod Meals on Mendenhall

we feel vindicated to have found this marvelous flan image in a warm blog from August ~ flan day here.
Mom’s Flan � Mod Meals on Mendenhall

The yellow flower

architect Tonkin Liu presented at the London Festival of Architecture an outdoor design, Yellow Flower. ~

yellow ~~ a glorious reply to sky.
the much discussed Yellow Flower, by architect Tonkin Liu

How do I move a blog between accounts? - Blogger Help

Of course, this makes sense. Nice integration of one's posts at other google powered blogs may be achieved by temporary sharing of admin functions between blogs--brilliant.

How do I move a blog between accounts? - Blogger Help

Facebook | Facebook Memology: Top Status Trends of 2009

Things that stood out for me in this report--Lady Gaga is the ONLY named person in the top fifteen, LOL!!! and i thought FML meant family medical leave..lol, thanks "fb" and oh yeah, hilarious that "i" shot up overnight after "is" wasn't anymore ~eeny memie mining mo~intelligence is wherever you go~plus i used the "BlogThis!" button to share.


Facebook | Facebook Memology: Top Status Trends of 2009

What is BlogThis! ? - Blogger Help

From the blogger tutorials--
What is BlogThis! ? - Blogger Help

Using Windows and IE, the "Blog This!" option is integrated into the SendTo feature of the Google Toolbar.

For Mozilla users, this article provides a "Blog This!" link to drag and drop as a button into the Link bar. Does it work? Yes, it captured this tutorial as we read this Blogger Help item!

Best Wishes for a Better New Year . ..

Out of the Deepest Dark of the Year ~ Solstice

Out of the deepest dark of the year comes Solstice, the perfect stop in the hot and cold tango of earth and Sun.

One year ago, on the evening of Solstice, my father passed at twilight. My last gift to him was to be with him in the hours during which he struggled bravely in the physical effort of giving birth to his own death. His gift to me in that moment was a flock of silent birds flying into the setting sun. The doctor was soon to tell me that my father had passed during those few minutes when I had finally gone outside for a break.

This year my father has returned as two feet of snow, a perfect blanket over the land he looked out upon in those last few moons of his life. He was almost eighty-one.

This blog is dedicated to my dad, and is filled with love stirred into the warm egg custard not yet made for him.

Merry Christmas. May we share the love with the living.

Little Big Man, 1970