Category Archives: Damoris

Free from single use bottles

During spring runoff, Grand Canyon’s drinking water may appear turbid or cloudy. This annual turbidity has been exhaustively researched and is not harmful to health. Grand Canyon National Park regularly tests the water to ensure it is safe to drink. Learn more….

water bottles filling container


Alkaline Salad Dressing

3 tbs of soya sauce (reduced salt)

1tbs grapeseed oil

1 tbs apple cider vinegar

3 cloves of fresh raw garlic

1 tabs fresh grated ginger root

Enjoy in excess!! 😉

L’union fait la force

Parce qu’ensemble on est plus fort pour luter contre tout…
“Si tous les gens qui s’aiment vivaient ensemble, la terre brillerait comme un soleil.”

Jean-Louis Barrault dans “Les enfants du paradis.”

Letter from my 10 year old

Dear mother earth
I am sorry for what we have done.
I have tried to use less litter but sometimes I just forget. When I am at school I don’t have any litter in my lunch box. At home we are growing plants in our vegetable garden and try not to buy things with plastic wrapping.
What we should be more careful of is trees and plants, without plants we can’t breath without us trees can’t breath.

One of my mum’s friends is making a non-plastic market.
Did you know that in some places in the world there is more plastic than plankton so little fish eat plastic and then bigger fish eat little fish with plastic inside them then we catch the fish with plastic inside and then we cook it and the plastic melts and we end up eating that plastic that we made.

I am so sorry for what we have done.We will change!
Yours sincerely



I was a blessed child.

I had a full-time mother.

I was blessed because my mother chose to make a career out of her family.

What does this really mean?

It means that the family was her main focus.  Everything revolved around the needs of her family.  Family life did not come second or third or fourth.  It came first.

Family was my mother’s priority.


Because of this, a powerful seed was planted in my heart and though its strength would be sorely tested through my own life’s challenges, in due time, it would reap its designated harvest.


My mother taught me to coo, to roll, to sit, to crawl, to clap, to stand, to speak, to walk, to drink from a cup, to feed myself, to dress myself, to use the bathroom & toilet, to listen, to observe, to touch, to care, to believe.

My mother did all this without a specific degree handed out to her by an Institutionalized Educational Department person.

She did all of this without worry or stress or anxiety attacks.

How?  She simply was there for me and ensured that she provided me with a loving, respectful, safe, nurturing environment.

She praised greatly and corrected lightly.


No institutionalized system could have substituted such excellence.


My mother taught me to play, to pretend, to create, to imagine, to wonder, to think, to socialize.

She taught me to read and to write, to use language skillfully, to express clearly and to enunciate always.

My mother imparted a love of books, creative stories, poetry & singing.

My mother taught me to give.  To give my best and to give of myself.


No institutionalized system could have substituted such excellence.


My mother taught me to read, to spell and to tell the time and thank goodness she did, because the educational system did not. By Grade 2, my mother had me reading so well, that my teacher sent me to the Grade 5 room to set an example of how good reading should sound.

Towards the end of Grade 3 my mother discovered I could not tell the time at all, so she took matters into her own hand and then furthered things by teaching me how to count back change and to calculate figures in my head.  We owned a small Bakery and my mother taught me how to efficiently run the shop front and how to present stock for maximum customer appeal. I learnt about catering for customer needs, ordering, stocktaking, planning and how to handle customer disputes.

I also learnt how to be pleasant despite the attitudes of others, how to debate respectfully and how to bow out gracefully.


(As a side note, my father taught me numerous things about baking and measuring, being observant, paying attention, checking and re-checking, using my own intuition and the importance of being precise.  He was particular about being organized and orderly and keeping one’s work space clean.  My father instilled a respect for punctuality – and to this day I am one who always strives to be punctual for any appointment or activity or meeting or play date!  There are countless other things that I have learned from my beloved father, but this is specifically about my mother!)


My mother taught me to respect the past, live in the present and embrace the future.


My mother taught me to love openly and abundantly.

To care deeply and to empathize sincerely.


My mother did all of this and infinitely more, all because of the choice she made years before I was even born!

My mother chose to make her family – her priority.

Our family was blessed because we were privileged to have a full-time mother.


I was born in 1968 and home schooling was not known to us – what a tragedy because I was a child who would have thrived at home all day with my mother!


Being away from my mother was horrid for me.  I missed her desperately – right through to high school!

Once I was able to escape the oppression of institutionalized education, I went right back to where my heart needed to be and worked alongside my mother in a new business venture.  I stayed there for many years.


Career options were plentiful for me because my mother had taught me to be strong and confident and poised and articulate.

She had enabled me to hold my head high in anyone’s company, to present myself with ease and grace and to always remain teachable.


Being free of the confined limitations of a failing, demeaning educational system, I was once again overjoyed with the beauty of learning for pleasure and thus, I quickly gained knowledge and skills in my desired area of health and fitness (exercise physiology).  This led to further study and eventually on to an interest in neurology, sensory integration, and children’s development.


My mother’s love for children and mothering had begun to come to full fruition and until I was able to mother within my own home, I used all my knowledge and skill and wisdom and love for the benefit of everyone else’s children.  It was sheer joy to do so!


At the heart of all this knowledge was the voice of my mother.  Her voice was heard through my teaching, my instruction, my workshops, my leadership, my employee training, my singing, my writing, my development programs and my parent training.

Her touch and her presence were felt through the way I moved and created and spoke and hugged and cuddled and encouraged and listened and observed and advised.


By the time I was promoted to mothering within my own home, everything good that my mother had poured into me came gushing out!

My home overflowed with all of her passion and joy and patience and wisdom and creativity and laughter – and more!

Children love to be in my home and spend time here – and children still love to be in my mother’s home!

People experience the same joy in my home as they do in my mother’s because in many ways … I am my mother!


Now thankfully we have discovered home schooling!

The moment I shared this new found revelation of Home Education with my parents, my mother’s eyes reflected a resounding, “yes”.  It’s as if we both knew that this was what we had always wanted –  for mother and child to be together until both could equally determine the child’s readiness to move on.


I was not ready to ‘move on’ until I was ready to be married at age 23.  Though I certainly moved on, I most definitely did not ‘move out’ of my mother’s life!  To this day she remains a vital part of all of our lives.


Being able to Home Educate is a sheer delight for me (though this does not mean that it is always easy nor that it is without its own challenges!).

I feel no loss at having to leave behind my worldly career because now I understand the vital importance of making one’s family 
one’s career.

Instead of pouring all my time and energy into a worldly career, I am free to pour it into my home.  I do not have to live in conflict or guilt or be torn between serving an employer and tending to the needs of my home.


We often hear about the positive impact that some teachers have had on students by believing in them, but rarely do we hear about the countless mothers like mine or perhaps yours. 

In particular, we hear little about Home Educating mothers who daily impact positively on their children’s lives by relentlessly believing in them.

Our children are so infinitely precious and priceless to us that we are prepared to give up ourselves to nurture and nourish their spirits, their souls and their bodies.


Are there really any Super Mums? 

Yes there are!   They are the ones who put their families first. 

Who pour themselves into their children simply for love’s sake.

There is no institutional system that can ever replace the love and nurture of a mother who knows the value of her family.


I was a blessed child.

I am a blessed woman.

I have a mother who chose to ‘mother’ and who still chooses to ‘mother’.

This is one career position from which she shall not ever choose to retire.


I am eternally thankful for all that my mother has taught me.


Mothers – you are uniquely qualified to be your child’s educator and instructor because you have your child’s whole future in your heart.  No one loves your child like you do and no one will make the sacrifices that you are prepared and ready to make.  There is no worldly degree that could come close to this love and certainly no salary or wage or piece of paper that is worth what you are worth.

Thank you Cassandra for sharing this beautiful letter with me. XX

Le Petit Nicolas

60th Birthday today

Happiness at its peak

Petite histoire trouvee sur la grande toile

“Quand je suis rentrĂ© ce soir-lĂ , et que ma femme a servi le dĂźner, je lui tenais la main et dit: J’ai quelque chose Ă  te dire. Elle s’assit et mangea tranquillement. Encore une fois j’ai observĂ© la douleur dans ses yeux.

Tout Ă  coup, je ne savais pas comment ouvrir ma bouche. Mais je devais lui dire ce que je pensais. « Je veux divorcer ». J’ai soulevĂ© le sujet calmement. Elle ne semblait pas ĂȘtre ennuyĂ© par mes paroles, bien au contraire elle me demanda doucement : pourquoi?

J’ai Ă©vitĂ© la question. Cela la mit en colĂšre. Elle a jetĂ© les couverts et me cria : tu n’es pas un homme! Cette nuit-lĂ , on ne s’est pas parlĂ© l’un l’autre. Elle pleurait. Je savais qu’elle voulait savoir ce qui Ă©tait arrivĂ© Ă  notre mariage. Mais je ne pouvais lui donner une rĂ©ponse satisfaisante, elle avait perdu mon cƓur, car il s’était tournĂ© vers Jane. Je ne l’aimais pas du tout, j’avais juste pitiĂ© d’elle!

Avec un profond sentiment de culpabilitĂ©, j’ai rĂ©digĂ© une lettre de divorce, qui stipulait qu’elle pouvait avoir notre maison, notre voiture, et 30% du capital de ma sociĂ©tĂ©. Elle la regarda, puis la dĂ©chira en mille morceaux. La femme qui avait passĂ© dix ans de sa vie avec moi Ă©tait devenue une Ă©trangĂšre. J’étais dĂ©solĂ© pour elle et pour la perte de temps, de ressources et d’Ă©nergie, mais je ne pouvais pas reprendre ce que j’avais dit car j’aimais Jane chĂšrement. Enfin, elle a criĂ© haut et fort en face de moi, et c’est ce que je m’attendais Ă  voir. Pour moi son cri Ă©tait en fait une sorte de libĂ©ration. L’idĂ©e d’un divorce qui m’avait obsĂ©dĂ©e pendant plusieurs semaines semblait ĂȘtre plus ferme et plus clair maintenant.

Le lendemain, je suis rentrĂ© trĂšs tard et l’ai trouvĂ©e entrain d’écrire quelque chose Ă  la table. Je n’ai pas pris le souper, mais je suis allĂ© directement au lit et m’endormi trĂšs vite parce que j’Ă©tais fatiguĂ© aprĂšs une journĂ©e bien remplie avec Jane. Lorsque je me suis rĂ©veillĂ©, elle Ă©tait toujours lĂ  au bureau. Je n’y ai pas prĂȘtĂ© attention, je me suis retournĂ© et ai encore dormi.

Dans la matinĂ©e, elle a prĂ©sentĂ© ses conditions de divorce: elle ne voulait rien de moi, mais elle avait besoin d’un mois de prĂ©avis avant le divorce. Elle a demandĂ© que, dans cette pĂ©riode d’un mois nous aurons tous deux Ă  lutter pour vivre une vie aussi normale que possible. Ses raisons sont simples: notre fils aura ses examens dans un mois, et elle ne voulait pas lui perturber le morale par notre mariage brisĂ©.

Ce fut agrĂ©able pour moi. Mais elle avait quelque chose de plus, elle m’a demandĂ© de me rappeler comment je l’avais transportĂ© dans la chambre nuptiale le jour de notre mariage. Elle a demandĂ© que tous les jours pendant la durĂ©e du mois, je l’emmĂšne hors de notre chambre Ă  la porte chaque matin. Je croyais qu’elle devenait folle. Afin de rendre nos derniers jours d’ensemble agrĂ©ables, j’ai acceptĂ© sa demande bizarre.

J’ai parlĂ© Ă  Jane des conditions de divorce de ma femme. . Elle Ă©clata de rire, et trouva cela absurde : « Peu importe les mĂ©thodes qu’elle appliquera, elle doit faire face au divorce », dit-elle avec mĂ©pris.

Ma femme et moi n’avions pas eu de contact de corps depuis que mon intention de divorce a Ă©tĂ© explicitement exprimĂ©e. Donc quand je l’ai portĂ©e le premier jour, nous avons tous deux paru maladroits. Notre fils applaudit derriĂšre nous disant : « papa tient maman dans ses bras. » Ses paroles m’ont apportĂ© un sentiment de douleur. De la chambre au salon, puis Ă  la porte, j’ai marchĂ© plus de dix mĂštres avec elle dans mes bras. Elle ferma les yeux et dit doucement, ne dis rien Ă  notre fils au sujet du divorce. J’ai hochĂ© la tĂȘte, me sentant quelque peu bouleversĂ©. Je l’ai posĂ©e devant la porte. Elle est allĂ©e Ă  attendre le bus pour aller au travail. J’ai conduit seul et partis au bureau.

Le deuxiĂšme jour, nous l’avons fait beaucoup plus facilement. Elle se pencha sur ma poitrine. Je pouvais sentir le parfum de son chemisier. J’ai rĂ©alisĂ© que je n’avais pas regardĂ© cette femme attentivement pendant une longue pĂ©riode. J’ai rĂ©alisĂ© qu’elle n’Ă©tait pas jeune non plus. Il y avait des fines rides sur son visage, ses cheveux grisonnaient! Notre mariage avait fait des ravages sur elle. Pendant une minute, je me suis demandĂ© ce que j’avais fait d’elle.

Le quatriĂšme jour, quand je l’ai soulevĂ©e, j’ai senti au retour un sentiment d’intimitĂ©. Ce fut la femme qui avait donnĂ© dix ans de sa vie pour moi. Le cinquiĂšme jour, et le sixiĂšme, j’ai compris que notre sentiment d’intimitĂ© renouĂ© Ă©tait croissant. Je n’ai rien dit Ă  Jane Ă  ce sujet. Il est devenu plus facile de la porter au fur et mesure que le mois s’Ă©coulait. Peut-ĂȘtre que la sĂ©ance d’entraĂźnement quotidienne m’a rendu plus fort.

Et un matin, elle se mit Ă  chercher quoi porter. Elle a essayĂ© pas mal quelques robes mais ne pouvait pas trouver une qui la convienne. Puis elle soupira : « toutes mes robes ont grandi ». J’ai soudain rĂ©alisĂ© qu’elle avait tellement maigri, c’Ă©tait la raison pour laquelle je pouvais la porter plus facilement.

Tout Ă  coup, cela m’a frappĂ© … elle avait endurĂ© tant de douleur et d’amertume dans son cƓur. Inconsciemment, j’ai tendu la main et toucha sa tĂȘte.

Notre fils est venu en ce moment et dit: Papa, il est temps de porter maman. Pour lui, voyant son pĂšre portant sa mĂšre Ă©tait devenue une partie essentielle de sa vie. Ma femme fit un geste Ă  notre fils de venir plus prĂšs et le serra Ă©troitement. Je tournais mon visage parce que j’avais peur, je pourrais changer d’avis Ă  la derniĂšre minute. Je l’ai alors prise dans mes bras, marchant de la chambre, Ă  travers le salon, dans le couloir. Elle mit doucement et naturellement ses mains autour de mon cou. Je l’ai serrĂ©e contre moi. C’était comme le jour de notre mariage.

Mais son poids beaucoup plus lĂ©ger m’a rendu triste. Le dernier jour, lorsque je l’ai tenue dans mes bras, je pouvais Ă  peine bouger d’un pas. Notre fils Ă©tait allĂ© Ă  l’Ă©cole. Je l’ai tenue fermement et lui dit: Je n’avais pas remarquĂ© que notre vie manquait d’intimitĂ©. J’ai conduit et suis allĂ© au bureau …. J’ai sautĂ© de la voiture rapidement sans verrouiller la porte. J’avais peur qu’il soit tard pour moi de changer d’avis … Je pris les escaliers. Jane ouvrit la porte et je lui ai dit, DĂ©solĂ©, Jane, je ne veux plus de divorce.

Elle me regarda, Ă©tonnĂ©e, puis toucha mon front : « As-tu de la fiĂšvre? » Dit-elle. J’ai enlevĂ© sa main de ma tĂȘte : « DĂ©solĂ©, Jane », je dis, « je ne vais pas divorcer. Ma vie conjugale Ă©tait ennuyeuse sans doute parce qu’elle et moi n’avions pas valorisĂ© les dĂ©tails de nos vies, et non parce que nous ne nous aimions plus. Maintenant je me rends compte que depuis que je l’ai amenĂ©e Ă  mon domicile le jour de notre mariage, je suis censĂ© la garder jusqu’Ă  ce que la mort nous sĂ©pare ». Jane semblait soudainement se rĂ©veiller. Elle m’a donnĂ© une claque forte puis claqua la porte et fondit en larmes. Je descendis et m’en allais. À la boutique de fleurs sur le chemin, j’ai commandĂ© un bouquet de fleurs pour ma femme. La vendeuse m’a demandĂ© ce qu’elle pouvait Ă©crire sur la carte. J’ai souri et j’ai Ă©crit : Je te porterais chaque matin jusqu’Ă  ce que la mort nous sĂ©pare.

Ce soir je suis arrivĂ© Ă  la maison, des fleurs dans mes mains, un sourire sur mon visage. Je montais les escaliers, mais seulement, hĂ©las, pour trouver ma femme dans le lit, morte. Ma femme avait Ă©tĂ© luttĂ© contre le cancer depuis des mois et j’ai Ă©tĂ© tellement occupĂ© avec Jane, que je n’ai mĂȘme pas remarquĂ©. Elle savait qu’elle allait mourir bientĂŽt et elle a voulu me sauver de la rĂ©action nĂ©gative de notre fils, au cas oĂč nous aurions divorcĂ©. Du moins, aux yeux de notre fils – je suis un mari aimant … .

Les petits dĂ©tails de votre vie sont ce qui importe vraiment dans une relation. Ce n’est pas la maison, la voiture, la propriĂ©tĂ©, l’argent Ă  la banque. Ceux-ci crĂ©ent un environnement propice pour le bonheur mais ne peut pas donner le bonheur en eux-mĂȘmes.

Donc, trouver du temps pour ĂȘtre l’ami de votre conjoint et de faire ces petites choses pour l’autre qui construisent l’intimitĂ©. Faire un vrai mariage heureux!

” My life is a reflection of the positive choices I make”

If  you were born a 6th of April, this thought is for you.

Happy Birthday!!

L’heure d’ ete

Changement d’ heure en France… Quelques jolies notes pour cĂ©lĂ©brer l’heure d’ Ă©tĂ©. C’est doux, c’est simple… J’espĂšre que vous apprĂ©cierai.

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