Club Q Q107-Loyalty Club (Southern ON Only) v4

[heartgirl99]

[Spartacus]

Attachment 236118

[Lee03]

Cool!!

[heartgirl99]

[Lee03]

[Lee03]

I'll have to try this in the summer!! Looks like fun!!

[Spartacus]

Goodnight my Q friends Sweet Dreams

[The Jester]

Just in case of good visibility and if you're outside away from the city lights there will be a big meteor shower overnight tonight with an average one every 3 minutes http://www.youtube.com/attribution_l...eature%3Dshare

[SillyLoocie]

Well, your friend Loocie is here to say goodnight. Tomorrow is going to be Thursday all day long. How bout that?

Who ever is on breakfast detail, I would really like scrambled eggs & maybe an English muffin with some grape jelly. A nice fresh glass of juice & a good cup of Java.

[The Jester]

The sandpiper: MAY YOU HOLD AND TREASURE THE ONES THAT YOU HOLD DEAR TO YOU, I DO.


Boy oh boy. .... A child ... How often God uses them to teach
us ....


This story doesn't ask anyone to forward
it or take any action other than to read and enjoy. By the way, I wish you
a sandpiper.
The Sandpiper


by Robert Peterson




She was six years old when I first met her
on the beach near where I live.

I drive to this beach, a distance of three
or four miles, whenever the world begins to close in on me.

She was building a sand castle or
something and looked up, her eyes as blue as the sea.

"Hello," she said.

I answered with a nod, not really in the
mood to bother with a small child.

"I'm building," she said.

"I see that. What is it?" I asked, not
really caring.
"Oh, I don't know, I just like the feel of
sand."

That sounds good, I thought, and slipped
off my shoes.

A sandpiper glided by.

"That's a joy," the child said.

"It's a what?"

"It's a joy. My mama says sandpipers come
to bring us joy."

The bird went gliding down the beach.
Good-bye joy, I muttered to myself, hello pain,

and turned to walk on. I was depressed, my
life seemed completely out of balance.

"What's your name?" She wouldn't give up.

"Robert," I answered. "I'm Robert
Peterson."

"Mine's Wendy... I'm six.."

"Hi, Wendy."

She giggled. "You're funny," she said.

In spite of my gloom, I laughed too and
walked on.

Her musical giggle followed me.

"Come again, Mr.. P," she called. "We'll
have another happy day."

The next few days consisted of a group of
unruly Boy Scouts, PTA meetings, and an ailing mother.

The sun was shining one morning as I took
my hands out of the dishwater. I need a sandpiper,

I said to myself, gathering up my coat.

The ever-changing balm of the seashore
awaited me.. The breeze was chilly but I strode along

, trying to recapture the serenity I
needed.

"Hello, Mr. P," she said. "Do you want to
play?"

"What did you have in mind?" I asked, with
a twinge of annoyance.

"I don't know. You say."

"How about charades?" I asked
sarcastically.

The tinkling laughter burst forth again.
"I don't know what that is."

"Then let's just walk."

Looking at her, I noticed the delicate
fairness of her face.
"Where do you live?" I asked.

"Over there." She pointed toward a row of
summer cottages.

Strange, I thought, in winter.

"Where do you go to school?"

"I don't go to school. Mommy says we're on
vacation"

She chattered little girl talk as we
strolled up the beach, but my mind was on other things.

When I left for home, Wendy said it had
been a happy day. Feeling surprisingly better, I smiled at her

and agreed.

Three weeks later, I rushed to my beach in
a state of near panic. I was in no mood to even greet Wendy.

I thought I saw her mother on the porch
and felt like demanding she keep her child at home.

"Look, if you don't mind," I said crossly
when Wendy caught up with me, "I'd rather be alone today."

She seemed unusually pale and out of
breath.

"Why?" she asked.

I turned to her and shouted, "Because my
mother died!" and thought, My God, why was I saying this

to a little child?

"Oh," she said quietly, "then this is a
bad day."

"Yes," I said, "and yesterday and the day
before and -- oh, go away!"

"Did it hurt?" she inquired.

"Did what hurt?" I was exasperated with
her, with myself.

"When she died?"

"Of course it hurt!" I snapped,
misunderstanding,
wrapped up in myself. I strode off.

A month or so after that, when I next went
to the beach, she wasn't there.

Feeling guilty, ashamed, and admitting to
myself I missed her, I went up to the cottage after my

walk and knocked at the door. A drawn
looking young woman with honey-colored hair opened the door.

"Hello," I said, "I'm Robert Peterson. I
missed your little girl today and wondered where she was."

"Oh yes, Mr. Peterson, please come in.
Wendy spoke of you so much. I'm afraid I allowed her to

bother you. If she was a nuisance, please,
accept my apologies."

"Not at all! she's a delightful child." I
said, suddenly realizing
that I meant what I had just said.

"Wendy died last week, Mr. Peterson. She
had leukemia
Maybe she didn't tell you."

Struck dumb, I groped for a chair. I had
to catch my breath.

"She loved this beach, so when she asked
to come, we couldn't say no.

She seemed so much better here and had a
lot of what she called happy days. But the last few weeks,

she declined rapidly..." Her voice
faltered, "She left something for you, if only I can find it.

Could you wait a moment while I look?"

I nodded stupidly, my mind racing for
something to say to this lovely young woman.

She handed me a smeared envelope with "MR.
P" printed in bold childish letters..

Inside was a drawing in bright crayon
hues -- a yellow beach, a blue sea, and a brown bird.

Underneath was carefully printed:

A SANDPIPER TO BRING YOU JOY.

Tears welled up in my eyes, and a heart
that had almost forgotten to love opened wide.

I took Wendy's mother in my arms. "I'm so
sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," I uttered over and over,

and we wept together. The precious little
picture is framed now and hangs in my study.

Six words -- one for each year of her
life -- that speak to me of harmony, courage, and undemanding love.

A gift from a child with sea blue eyes and
hair the color of sand
-- who taught me the gift of love.


NOTE: This is a true story sent out by
Robert Peterson. It happened over 20 years ago and the

incident changed his life forever. It
serves as a reminder to all of us that we need to take time to

enjoy living and life and each other. The
price of hating other human beings is loving oneself less.


Life is so complicated, the hustle and
bustle of everyday traumas can make us lose focus about

what is truly important
or what is only a momentary setback or
crisis...

This week, be sure to give your loved ones
an extra hug, and by all means, take a moment...

even if it is only ten seconds, to stop
and smell the roses.

This comes from someone's heart, and is
read by many
and now I share it with you..

May God Bless everyone who receives this!
There are NO coincidences!

Everything that happens to us happens for
a reason. Never brush aside anyone as insignificant.

Who knows what they can teach us?


I wish for you, a sandpiper.

[coyote00]

[coyote00]

[heartgirl99]

good morning, qt's!

[heartgirl99]

Google Street View Reveals Toronto’s Past

New feature will let you track changes around the world and here at home.
BY MEGAN MARRELLI


Thanks to a new feature from Google Street View, users will soon be able to explore images showing how Toronto has changed since 2007. Within the next 24 hours, Google will be giving users access to its photo archives, which date back to Street View’s original launch seven years ago.
The new feature took off in the U.S. this morning, and you’ll know it’s arrived here when a clock icon appears in the upper-left corner of the Street View scene. Clicking on that icon will allow you to toggle through archived, 360-degree photographs.
A Google spokesperson noted that it will be especially interesting to look at how areas that have experienced major development over the past few years—like Lake Shore Boulevard and Fleet Street, for example—have transformed during this time.
The new feature is part of an effort by Google to create a “digital mirror” of the world. Although most locations will have only one archived photo right now, as the years pass, the archived views will become digital time capsules for the 55 countries that Street View currently photographs.
It will be an easy and accessible kind of virtual time travelling—which is why Pegman, the little dude you drag and drop onto Street View streets, is donning a Doc Brown costume to celebrate the launch.

[crazyredneck]

weekend almost here

must

try to make

it



to weekend