tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67457246068774691632011-07-07T20:10:04.408-04:00Deep Thoughts from a Shallow StreamCandace Zahnzingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02705946139372548956noreply@blogger.comBlogger161100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6745724606877469163.post-22521989031006532192011-02-09T11:55:00.003-05:002011-02-09T12:19:28.497-05:00

It occurs to me as I sit here typing, I should be working on one of the numerous projects in which I have half started…or yet to start. Yet, here I am typing away, as my brain and body both submit that I have neither the energy nor the ambition to get anything real accomplished today. A great deal has happened in the year (ok maybe a bit longer) since my last blog. One child has gone off to

Candace Zahnzingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02705946139372548956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6745724606877469163.post-386789465345993892009-08-14T13:57:00.001-04:002009-08-14T14:53:58.632-04:00

Birthdays…So it came to pass that I am a year older, not really a year wiser, and for all the hub bub I feel… about the same.The last few weeks had seemed rough, dark, not quite so happy. I felt old. I figured it was the approached of the dreaded birthday. I’m not sure why it was dreaded, but it was. The feeling grew heavier and heavier with each passing day, each second that ticked closer to

Candace Zahnzingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02705946139372548956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6745724606877469163.post-15272946672820792572009-08-04T14:53:00.004-04:002009-08-04T15:38:08.154-04:00

It is back. My dream, my vision, my ambition. Today I will reread all I have written thus far, and perhaps even begin upon a new expedition into the dark and oft perilous world I have begun to create.I spoke with someone today, someone I had not spoken too in some time. It was for lack of a better word, enlightening. I said something to him, which upon reflection, I needed to apply with the

Candace Zahnzingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02705946139372548956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6745724606877469163.post-28910293697239032022009-07-29T11:25:00.001-04:002009-07-29T12:10:24.091-04:00

I woke up this morning determined, my mind sent, every fiber of my being focus, ready to face the day and make it bend to my will. I was ready, despite a rather poor night sleep, I was awake and ready to show the world who was boss. I was going to write some of the finest chapters the world had ever seen (or at least that I had ever written). The world within my book would have new life

Candace Zahnzingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02705946139372548956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6745724606877469163.post-85338982107804291432009-07-17T16:12:00.002-04:002009-07-17T16:33:01.620-04:00

Does anyone else remember a time when Customer Service used to mean more? Not just putting people on hold, and repeating the same things over and over again, but actually doing something to serve the customer. When people went out of their way to try to make sure every customer was, not only satisfied with the service they received, but downright happy with it. What happened to those days?

Candace Zahnzingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02705946139372548956noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6745724606877469163.post-4868361692795867952009-07-13T17:00:00.002-04:002009-07-13T17:22:14.693-04:00

So I realized something quite interesting over the last few days. How important it is to take time to recharge your batteries. No, not real batteries (although I guess those are important too). Rather, the invisible ones, the ones in your mind and your heart and your spirit. The batteries that so often, in the hustle and bustle of things, seem to run down and be forgotten about. I have spent

Candace Zahnzingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02705946139372548956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6745724606877469163.post-81076850219138147552009-07-01T14:11:00.002-04:002009-07-01T15:07:56.903-04:00

Right or wrong, good or evil, no matter what you call it all people of sound mind know the difference. We are taught it from a young age and if we are lucky we are able to walk the path that we choose with little deviation. Yet what happens when our choices fall on the wrong side of the moral line. Or maybe our choice was what we thought was right but for others it seemed wrong.In this world

Candace Zahnzingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02705946139372548956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6745724606877469163.post-30025161670929923722009-06-24T13:02:00.003-04:002009-06-24T13:36:26.396-04:00

A story was sent to me this morning by my father-in-law, Winston. He could not have known how much this story would have hit home, as he does not know of my blog, nor of my latest writing endeavors. Hit home it did and brought me right back around to the story of the men in Wisconsin suing for rights to burn a book which dared to offend them. The story he sent me was from just last year, in

Candace Zahnzingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02705946139372548956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6745724606877469163.post-61440546541212641542009-06-22T12:00:00.002-04:002009-06-22T14:24:34.185-04:00

So here it is June 22nd, the first official full day of summer, according someone.Well, I think I'm going to have to dispute this. It's in the 50's, it's windy, rainy, just plain downright un-summer like. I had the heat on in my car today, I've been wearing sweatshirts (and still I'm cold), so I am afraid I have to veto the idea that this is summer. I know, I live in New England and therefore I

Candace Zahnzingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02705946139372548956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6745724606877469163.post-28781644757113473702009-06-16T15:48:00.002-04:002009-06-16T16:31:03.094-04:00

I thought about writing this last week, but I had better things to do.(If you didn't at least smile at that, stop reading)No, seriously though, this really only came to me today. I guess some could say that blogging is just another form of procrastination, seeing as I have so much writing to do. For me it isn't though. Writing down these thoughts helps to clear them from my brain and leave my

Candace Zahnzingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02705946139372548956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6745724606877469163.post-5070413844525282682009-06-15T17:57:00.002-04:002009-06-15T18:25:57.690-04:00

So I know my friend Jen has covered this topic on her blog, but really this should be being discussed in every venue; every dinner table, classroom, book club, church, and town square. If there are people gathered in any quantity, they should have, at the very least, some inkling of the true implications of this. OK, I have gotten ahead of myself on this one, but seriously, this is one of the

Candace Zahnzingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02705946139372548956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6745724606877469163.post-53368458885771222002009-06-14T20:20:00.002-04:002009-06-14T21:05:11.381-04:00

So a normal, run of the mill Sunday, has become a wee bit o hell.I should say, so as to help people understand, that we are the last house on our particular power line. There is no one after us, the poles come to an end at our driveway. As such a wet sponge thrown anywhere in a 2 mile radius can cause a sudden and most displeasureable outage of our power for anywhere from five seconds to five

Candace Zahnzingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02705946139372548956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6745724606877469163.post-42724256207247364472009-06-12T13:03:00.002-04:002009-06-12T13:18:07.715-04:00

Ok so this morning was another day. Grand plans were formulated in the depths of my brain. I was going to get so much accomplished. Countless pages would be written, the house would be scrubbed from top to bottom, dishes might get put away.Well now it is after 1 P.M. and I've typed all of four sentences, made the bed, and fed the cats. Oh and took a shower, can't forget that. So much for

Candace Zahnzingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02705946139372548956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6745724606877469163.post-38704970010003404612009-06-11T09:21:00.006-04:002009-06-11T10:37:21.712-04:00

So I decided to do a load of dishes this morning. The sink was once again over flowing with dishes, and I would need at least a few of them to make dinner tonight. So I figured what the heck might as well get it over with.Now I should say I am not one of these people who do a load of dishes, immediately unload it and put them all away, so I can put dirty dishes in the dishwasher as they become

Candace Zahnzingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02705946139372548956noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6745724606877469163.post-71993997993741573992009-06-10T11:48:00.002-04:002009-06-10T12:02:25.253-04:00

So a friend was talking about having some remodeling done, and she asked if the people knew what they were doing. It got me thinking. Do any of us really ever know what we are doing? I mean we may have some training, or at least be somewhat skilled in a given field, but do we ever really know? I think we are all just taking things as they come. Living through the random sequence of events

Candace Zahnzingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02705946139372548956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6745724606877469163.post-28118663967861045792009-06-09T15:27:00.001-04:002009-06-09T15:41:22.720-04:00

So I have started writing. It rather odd to me, putting the thoughts and feelings that normally writhe about in my brain down in a literary form. Out there for others to see, as with this blog, or down into manuscript form, wondering, praying that some day they may be cohesive enough to find their way into a published work.Why then you ask? Why do this, if it seems so odd, so alien? Well I'll

Candace Zahnzingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02705946139372548956noreply@blogger.com3