Here’s a short, heart-rendering story called “Dead Man’s Hollow”

“The Meadow” – a great love story

“Good and evil cannot dwell together in the same heart, so a good man ought not to go into evil company” — Native American Nation

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DEAD MAN’S HOLLOW — A TRIBUTE TO “THE MEADOW”

This short story is here to support the promotion of “The Meadow”, a novel recently completed by Mike O’Hare and Elfreda Pretorius.

Although the storylines are quite different, there is a familiar thread that runs through both of them. One of the main messages that “The Meadow” conveys is that all things are connected.

The interconnectedness of multi-dimensional consciousness is demonstrated in the story below and illustrates how natural laws bind the energies that make us what we are.

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A DEDICATION FROM THIS PAGE

To Maureen without whose friendship in my very early teens I would never have written “Dead Man’s Hollow”

From around the age of thirteen or so, I formed a great friendship with Maureen and her dog Glen (see photo of a similar dog). I think I can now safely reveal that we were childhood sweethearts and because of the constraints that existed in days gone by, where parents would never allow fraternization at home, we resorted to discovering our area.

Summer days were exactly that in the mid 50s where the warm winds would move the corn in one direction as though it was beckoning us to come and discover. And we made the most of it. We were a trio in the very sense of the word, even though some farmers objected to our presence even with a very well behaved Collie dog.

This is when I discovered ‘Dead Man’s Hollow’, a small gorge cut out of the existing countryside. It has since been filled in and no evidence exists today that it was an attraction for children and adults alike.

Without the friendship that existed between Maureen and I, the story of “Dead Man’s Hollow” would never have been written.

Thank you Maureen, where ever you are.

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The Meadow seeks recognition

THE INTERNET IS THE ONLY WAY FORWARD

Publication of a great story is only the beginning.

Now it has to find its rightful place amongst the bookshelves with all the other fantastic works of fiction.

This can only happen when it is brought into people’s awareness.

“The Meadow” has taken two and a half years to write and the authors do not intend for it to take that long to gain momentum as it reaches public scrutiny.

We rely on the power of the Internet and the tools which are available to us.

There are many potential readers out there and using the right approach by using this facility will go a long way to helping us achieve our goals.

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The physical meadow versus the celestial watering hole called “The Meadow”

Which would you choose?

To the right is a beautiful photo of a real meadow somewhere, very much like the meadow in my own memories that I shared with Maureen.
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Once you begin to read “The Meadow” your mind will possibly take you to another world and let you experience a meadow from another dimension — a celestial watering hole where souls go to rest between physical lives.

Observe the painting left and see what conjures in the minds of the two authors who wrote “The Meadow”.

No wonder Dead Man’s Hollow has had such an influence on me.

The Feathers

One fSMALLrom an eagle and the other from an owl

This is how the story begins, with a legend, where two tail feathers are cast from an eagle and an owl in an aerial display.
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To the right is a close up depicting them in the painting of “The Meadow” and left are the real feathers, framed to commemorate the completion of the book.

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A never-forgotten experience turned into a story

This is a short story; an experience. It came to me a long time ago and I remembered it as I awoke one morning. It is based around a place that became very familiar to me through one very special person in my life at the time. It is written in the first person singular, so it might take a short while to adjust to the writing style. Seeing as “The Meadow” has now been written, I thought it was appropriate and worth sharing, although this is a very different story.

DEAD MAN’S HOLLOW

It’s a fine day; my goodness, it is indeed a very fine day. I’ve never seen the fields so green and the sun, well it’s shining so brightly in that cloudless sky.
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It’s about time that we are blessed with some good weather. Our part of the world sometimes seems to have been deserted by the farming gods when it comes to distributing the elements on a more equal basis.

That’s strange, there’s something unusual going on here. I’ve done this trip hundreds of times heading home, crossing the fields and meadows, so why should things feel so differently this time? The birds are singing as usual, but wait! No, they’re not just singing, they’re positively in full chorus. What a beautiful sound they make and why haven’t I noticed this before?

What’s that over there? It seems to be a mist covering the gorge, but it’s only hovering at that one place. I’ll check that out later; I don’t want to feel shrouded in mist on such a beautiful calm day as this. Hey, that’s it! It is calm. There’s not a breath of wind. Oh, if only the others could be sharing this with me. I can’t put my finger on any of this just yet. It’s not like me to leave matters unaccounted, so I must try to figure this out.

My only conclusion is that I feel good. In fact I feel very good indeed. I can feel so much sensitivity in my fingers as they skim across the corn ears and there’s a bounce in my step that I’ve never had since I was a kid. This feels very new, but who’s complaining?

Hello, there’s Matty, our neighbour, ploughing in the next field. He must be catching up on lost time, considering the atrocious weather we’ve been experiencing of late. Good grief, he must be unwell. He’s wrapped up for winter as he drives that tractor. He hasn’t noticed me waving to him. The poor guy should be tucked up in bed, judging by the state he’s in. Oh well, it’s no good me dwelling on all this. I’ll just have to put it all down to Karen’s great cooking.

Considering the problems I have to face when I get home, I should be grateful for such a caring wife. The farm can’t run itself and my working day is quite taxing and extremely stressful. I sometimes wonder if dad knew exactly what he was doing when he left the business for me to handle. Poor dad; I really miss him now he’s gone. Having said all that, it’s the administration that’s the greatest burden. Come back dad, all is forgiven! Heaven knows I need his help right now.

Our debts have risen over the years due to huge loans we took out on new machinery, bringing us into the 21st century. It was such a relief to get the first of three tax bills settled thanks to a good harvest last year. Long may it continue; I don’t need any more bad news. I only hope this marvellous weather holds out. Our targets are now focused on maintaining the levels of livestock that we have at the moment.

Although we were lucky not to suffer that devastating outbreak a few years ago, we still suffer at the hands of the retail chains that indirectly screw us into the ground. The Establishment has a lot to answer for. Why can’t society have been moulded differently so that we can all get an equal share of the bountiful joys that should be available to all? It isn’t fair that the greedy few can gain so much control over the majority so that they can line their pockets. Maybe I should have been a politician. Nah! Why should I wish to be a puppet to the Establishment?

My goodness, surely I’m never home already? I’ve been thinking too much about the business methinks. How on earth could I have crossed the meadow, three fields, a stream and negotiated six fences without being aware of the whole trip? I must be hungrier than I thought. That’s strange, the gate’s open. I should be first home today, so who’s here? “Hello, hello, anyone home?”

“Is that you Michael? You’re late aren’t you?”

“Mum, is that you? Er … yes, I am rather late now that you mention it. You know what it’s like these days, mum, I just can’t get around to everything so quickly now that dad’s gone.”

I think I need to sit down and figure out what’s happening here and why was I so sharp with mum? It’s certainly not the usual thing I would say about dad, especially seeing that I’ve just walked through the door. Matters should be a lot easier now. After all, it’s been three and a half years.

Mum and dad were so close that I was sure she would not be able to stand up to life without him. How wrong I was and thank goodness for that. As soon as she came to live with us, and despite her illness, she seemed to take on a new fighting spirit. For all the differences we had before, particularly between her and Karen regarding the kids and their welfare, she not only calmed troubled waters but she took on the mantle of being the greatest grandma in the world. How lucky I am now to have two angels around me. Why is mum looking at me with such a puzzled expression?

“Don’t worry Michael. You’re doing really fine and dad’s so very proud of you.”

How on earth can I answer her when I feel that lump build up in my throat? I must try and swallow before she gets upset.

“Go and freshen up son, and then we’ll all have a good chat. It seems so long since we sat down together don’t you think?”

I don’t understand ‘we’ll all’. Karen, Christopher and Emily are not yet back from London. Thank goodness it’s the school holidays. We’re in the final stages of negotiations for the sale of some land that we need to part with. If successful, we’ll just about break even. Karen has a diplomacy about her that leaves me looking more like a member of the Spanish Inquisition, so this is her department and she’s taken the kids for support as she visits the lawyers. Good luck Karen. If anyone can clinch this deal, you can.

“Here, drink this Michael. It’ll warm you up.”

Where on earth has this tea come from? It tastes absolutely out of this world. Everything is happening so quickly, as though time no longer exists.

“Thanks mum. I really needed this. By the way, Karen and the kids are due back shortly, so please leave some of that wonderful cooking; it smells absolutely gorgeous.” I must try and get some sleep. Maybe afterwards things will become clearer.

“George is going to find it hard from now on, Michael, so I want you to give him all the support you can. Dad and I have always watched over you both. Now we have you to help.”

Why is she so concerned about George all of a sudden? He has always been able to cope, so what’s new? He’s three years my junior and has been helping on the farm for two years since leaving university early to help out. I feel guilty about this, but as he says, it was his decision and besides, being a linguist at the U.N. was probably an illusion compared with the reality of being a very competent farmer. I’d be lost without my little brother.

“Why are you so worried about it mum?” Hmmm, this food she’s just put down tastes delicious. In fact it’s more than that; it’s like tasting things for the first time, like that magic moment when we were very young.

“Dad can probably explain things better than I son, so why don’t you wait until you see him.”

What on earth is mum talking about? It’ll be a long time before that happens, I assume. Hopefully, I can relax a little now that I’ve finished that fantastic meal. I must get my head into gear so that I can understand what mum is trying to say to me. Ah, that sounds like George coming in the back way. He usually showers and changes before leaving for home and his family. “George! Come through and enjoy some of mum’s marvellous cooking”.

Whatever is wrong with him? He looks as though he has the weight of the world on his shoulders, and why would he put down his boots and just leave the room without saying a word? I can’t think for the life of me what I have said to upset him.

“What do you think is bothering George, mum?” She’s looking at me with those protecting eyes again.

“Your brother loves you very much, Michael. You know that don’t you?”

That’s one hell of a statement that mum has just made. Does she think that I no longer love my own brother? I don’t want to get embroiled into a heated conversation right now, so I think I’ll just nod to appease her. I’m feeling so relaxed that all I want to do is savour this moment. What perplexes me is the fact that some things are not OK and yet I feel so good and detached.
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I don’t want to pursue the matter further until I’m ready. Ah, that seems to have done the trick. Now that she’s gone into the front room, this will give me the chance to sit and try figure out the strange atmosphere that seems to exist around the place. It’s hard work trying to concentrate, so I think I’ll just let my thoughts drift for a while and stay here by the window. It looks like a mist is beginning to form over the meadow, just like the one over the gorge.

How strange! I only hope that the good weather holds. Karen and the children are due back anytime and I’m beginning to feel a little restless. I hope they’re OK. Perhaps mum has been trying to tell me something in her own sweet way. Is this the reason for all the unrest around me? Is she looking for that right opportunity to tell me something? I’m so relaxed that I can feel myself drifting. Oh well, no use in fighting it ….

That’s strange; the clock on the mantle piece has stopped. I wonder how long I’ve been asleep. I must pull myself together, so I’ll just sit here while I compose myself. Those mists are still hovering in the same places. In fact they haven’t moved. Now that’s very strange as mists usually drift with the wind, but seeing as it’s so calm today, maybe that is why. Perhaps I’ve only slept a few minutes. They don’t seem to be shifting at all, nor is there movement within the trees. It’s absolutely calm; perhaps too calm. How many times do I have to ask myself what’s happening? Hello, it looks as though there’s some activity emerging around the mists. I must try to get a closer look. Not now though, someone is coming back into the room.

“Hello son”!

No, this can’t be. “Dad, is that you? Is this really you?” I must be dreaming. Yes, that’s it, I’m dreaming. So that’s what this is all about. Now it all makes sense, thank goodness. OK, so I’m dreaming, but I still feel good and this seems so very real. So why fight it? Why not enjoy the experience? What a great tale I’m going to have for Karen.

“Hello dad, it’s great to see you. How are you?” He looks so fit and young looking. I’m so pleased for him, even though this is a dream. It looks as though he’s coming to sit beside me. Why does he keep staring at those mists outside?

“Your mum’s asked me to explain a few things to you son.”

This is how dad used to talk to me as a child. This is so good. The dream is fulfilling every positive moment I wanted so much to experience in my life and I’m in no hurry to see it ended. “That’s OK, dad. Go ahead.” I hope I haven’t startled him in any way. I can see that he is concerned, but I still feel so great that it’s a shame to break this feeling and, after all, this is my dream.

“Karen’s on her way, son.”

He’s looking at those mists again. I can see vehicles coming towards the farm. Perhaps this is Karen at last or is it still my dream? I’m so confused. It looks like two taxis, as I don’t recognise the cars. George is still here and he’s going towards the first car. “So George hasn’t left yet, dad?” That’s fairly obvious. Why did I ask that?

“No son, he’ll be here for a while.”

The second car has now pulled up. It’s Karen and the kids in the first car. Thank heaven they’re safe. Even dreams have to have a happy ending, if this is indeed still my dream. Things seem so solemn. You would think that George hadn’t seen his sister-in-law for years instead of days, the way they’re embracing. Now it looks like Elizabeth’s turn, seeing as she’s leaving that second car so quickly.

She’s still carrying little Edward, so I hope she’s careful. George is so proud of his only son. When he was born 18 months ago, it was touch and go as to whether he would survive. Elizabeth got into difficulties and he was born almost two months premature. Now I have such a wonderful little nephew to enjoy. I can feel the emotion out there; it’s running so high. If this is still my dream, I’m going to try and change its course.

“Dad, this is a sort of reunion, isn’t it? So why all the glum faces? Is someone not telling me something?” He’s starting to worry me. He’s staring at the frame above the fireplace. How I love that picture; mum and dad in their best outfits at George’s and Elizabeth’s wedding. It has pride of place, as it’s usually the last thing I see before dozing around the fire after a good meal in the early evening.

Mum was determined that nothing would spoil that day, even though she’d recently discovered she had breast cancer. She suffered bravely for three years before yielding to this atrocious disease. Oh my God, what is happening? Somebody please explain to me what is happening! I was just talking to mum before I dozed off and entered into this dream, so how can this be? Dad knows something. He doesn’t put his hand on my shoulder unless he has something profound to say.

I remember feeling so glad that mum lived long enough to enjoy the early months with her new grandson. A year on and Edward is starting to take on his father’s features. I can understand things that are happening in this dream, but I can’t figure out how I could have spoken with mum before this. Dad’s got that fatherly look in his eyes; I know he’s going to say something.

“Do you remember those days when you were a lad Michael, and we could never find you? We always had to go out looking until we got wise to your secret place.”

He’s on about my most favourite spot in the whole world – Dead Man’s Hollow. This was the name given by us kids to the small gorge that separated the farm from the stream that ran alongside the meadow. We would play for hours on end here. We even built our tree house in the old oak that hung so majestically over the gorge and would double as a Tarzan swing.

Later on, it became a short cut for the tractor I could so skilfully use. At least ten whole minutes or even more, could be saved when travelling from the fields when I was so eager to get home. Why should ten minutes make such a difference? Almost everything on the farm had a nickname. The tractor was called ‘Nellie’, after my mother’s sister who was an old boiler. I hope by now she has forgiven us, especially how ‘Nellie’ became such a fond member of the family.

We should have scrapped her years ago, but how can you punish such good service she had given? She was my pride and joy and I would prefer to use her rather than the more modern tractors that were left to the farm staff. I became so skillful as a driver that only I could negotiate that large oak root that prevented the others from crossing the gorge.

Wait a minute! I’m beginning to remember. It rained heavily last night and there was a pond left in the belly of the gorge. I knew I’d get a soaking today if I wasn’t careful when crossing. Perhaps I shouldn’t have gone into the field at all. It was a mud bath. Regardless, I knew the work had to be done and I was so positive that Karen was going to be successful with the land sale, so much so that I had prepared a surprise meal for her return today. I was determined to get home in quick time.

That look in Dad’s eyes speaks volumes. He always had a knack of bringing things to our attention without uttering a word. I feel so good within myself that it’s hard to accept the logic that surrounds me and yet I must face it.

“We should have cut out that dead root years ago.”

Dad sounds like he’s almost apologising for its existence.

“If only the tractor had been more modern and had a winch hook fitted.”

His words ‘if only’ are beginning to haunt me. What’s going on here and how many times must I repeat this question to myself? Here comes mum.

“Is everything OK?”

Mum knows I have a mind full of questions. I hope her presence will help lighten the load a little now.

“Yes mum, everything’s OK now.” I must savour this moment, now that we’re together again. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you both.” I never dreamed that I would be able to see mum and dad together again. The way we’re embracing tells me I have a lot to do.

My thoughts are back to those childhood days. I wonder which one of us named that gorge Dead Man’s Hollow. Mum and dad don’t have to tell me that Karen, George, Elizabeth and the children will one day need my support, the same way as they have given me theirs. I only have to wait.

It is indeed a very fine day.

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The Billingham International Folklore Festival

Another aspect to “The Meadow” where location means everything

The Billingham International Folklore Festival is a unique event in the UK where national dancers from around the world gather in the small town of Billingham in the north east of England.
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Its colour and splendour cannot be matched and this annual event is a pleasure to behold. I first visited the Festival way back in 1965, only a couple of years after it had been formed.

The idea of “The Meadow” was very fresh in my mind at that time and the sounds and sights of the Festival only stimulated my mind and added more material which would manifest many, many years later.
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The top picture shows Joe Maloney, the founder of the Festival. Without him there would be no celebrations each year and I would not have been able to use this location as part of the backdrop to the story.

The picture left shows some of the dancers that visit the Festival each year. Here you can see the Spanish dancers displaying their culture and dance.

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Themeadowblog — a tool used to follow “The Meadow”

This story illustrates how life can be truly eternal when love carries two souls through many lives

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Past lives or reincarnation can either be a buzz word or one that upsets those of a religious belief that contradicts their philosophy. From a logical point of view, it is the opinion of both authors that all lessons can not be learnt in just one earthly life time. “The Meadow” and its storyline is based around this concept. I hope to see this feed search improve each time a new group is found until I see “The Meadow” being illustrated each time.
A short, heart-rendering story called “Dead Man’s Hollow”
One of the main messages that ?The Meadow? conveys is that all things are connected. The interconnectedness of multi-dimensional consciousness is demonstrated in the story below and illustrates how natural laws bind the energies that
Terri’s page….
We connected in friendship immediately because we spoke of these things….she was a massage therapist and healer….she believed in the interconnectedness of all living things and especially the spirit world.
this soul’s craving
immediately following the whirlwind week of socializing with new friends, i took a trip up to minneapolis to visit with some of the people i consider most like home. the interconnectedness i felt with these people as we hugged or
Pollinators – Interconnectedness
Plowing under a meadow of flowers to create another field for corn may be disturbing a vital “nectar highway” for pollinators. Due to their inability to span the disrupted area in a day, the pollinator will either starve while trying,
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Three beautiful creatures

They all feature in “The Meadow”

WATCH OUT FOR THEM IN FUTURE ARTICLES FEATURING “THE MEADOW” AND LEARN ABOUT THE MYSTERY THAT SURROUNDS THESE FEATHERS.
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SMALL
THE LORD OF THE DAY
SMALL
THE LORD OF THE NIGHT
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THE KING OF THE OPEN PLAINS.

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The Meadow novel

A story of undying love over thousands of years through many different lives

PhotobucketA novel written with a message for the modern world. It’s time to start realizing that there is more to life than what our five physical senses relay to us.
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Release your conditioned mind and understand that life is eternal, whether it be in the mind, the soul or the body.
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Life goes on regardless, and we follow it every step of the way.See how Google grabs on related words and phrases.
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In time these should bring us toward other stories and blogs that will prevent this page from spamming.
Hurricanes, Reaching Out, and Our Interconnectedness
We spent a rainy weekend here in Michigan this weekend. It was a reminder, every time we stepped outdoors, of what was happening on the other side of the country from us, down in Texas. Some may remember that I served a congregation in
Interconnectedness – Does it affect me?
Eugene may have been inspired by Jesus’ sense of interconnectedness and co-responsibility expressed thus: Whatsoever you do to the least of my brothers, you do unto me. Mathew 25:40. Both statements remind me of a truth I have intuited
Transmutability and Interconnectedness: New Criteria for a New Era
What I’d like to suggest to them is that they think about ?Interconnectedness?as a criterion for their research. Interconnectedness would mean that their studies draw upon and cite qualitative studies and findings that suggest
Social Permaculture:a praxis of radical interconnectedness
The praxis(practice and theory combined) of Permaculture brings with it a fundamental awareness that each element within a system effects, and thus potentially supports, every other element. It follows that to change any element in a
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Some more of the locations used in “The Meadow”

Get a feel for the story when you see some of the locations that are used

Elwick Village is just a small place situated just outside of Hartlepool in north east England. It figures heavily in “The Meadow” as this is where the main male protagonist lives.
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The village has a beautiful green which is lush in colour and is used for many occasions as well as being the focal point for villagers and visitors alike
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Our hero, Steve, has his farm of Ocean View situated somewhere above where it can look over the North Sea and take in the splendour of the area.
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The top picture is just a typical one that the visitor will encounter when entering the village and below is the view obtained when leaving from the opposite direction.
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See Mike interviewed about his own co-authored book, “The Meadow”

This is a short interview explaining the background behind “The Meadow”

It’s not the professional interview like seen on TV. This is just a plain warts ‘n all talk about the storyline and the early attempts to get the book off the ground. The interview was taken before the book was published.

The Meadow is an Epic Love Story Involving Four Past Lives.

http://www.themeadowblog.com/ I’ve just completed co-authoring a novel of more than 600 pages; a huge venture which took more than two and a half years to complete. My writing partner is Elfreda Pretorius and, would you believe, we never met until the book had been completed. How it all started is a long story and I shall be explaining all of this in detail as I progress. Watch out for The Meadow.

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Go on — have your say.

This is your chance to either support what I say or be a positive sceptic

I don’t claim to be the world’s greatest blogger. On the contrary, I’m learning all the time. I will improve immensely if I get feedback which either supports or challenges what I write. Either way, this is the experience that I seek.

Is Dead Man’s Hollow unrealistic?

* It couldn’t have happened the way that it did in the story.

* The world is beginning to wake up and accept that anything is possible.

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Stop Struggling and Start Living – Rules of the Game

Written and created by Elfreda Pretorius

Elfreda is my writing partner and co-author of “The Meadow”. Elfreda is a life skills coach and a counsellor.Recently she has joined Webtalk Radio and in a short time has become a prolific broadcaster.

How to overcome struggle and start living — read about my writing partner and co-author of “The Meadow” and how SMALLher skills as a life coach inspired her to her first book

Are you tired of struggling through life but hope tomorrow will be better?

Well, it will not be any different from today. Not unless you learn and apply the Stop Struggling and Start Living – Rules of the Game.

This beautiful novel of a spiritual awakening teaches us the principles and practical steps we need in order to take control of our lives and begin to soar.

Stop Struggling and Start Living: The Rules of the Game

Amazon Price: $14.95 (as of 09/17/2008)

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Has this page raised any interest in learning more about “The Meadow”?

Please make comments and leave a contact

All the articles and blogs that I write are designed to create an awareness of “The Meadow”.

Communication, pro-action and interaction is the name of the game.

Let me know somehow that “The Meadow” is on your mental list.

This will eventually lead us to the right people and bring this story (which was meant to be written) to the world.

You can reach me by any of the contacts at the foot of this page or simply comment in the box provided.

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Follow me on Twitter

If you do then I’ll follow you. Who knows where it will lead

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Twitter is just a great tool. Now all you have to do is post your material, copy the URL and paste into your Twitter browser.

Follow themeadowblog

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Watch out for my personal avatar

The Phoenix rising from the ashes combined with an outline of a female’s head

In 1986 I was under a great deal of stress.
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My mother was dying of cancer and I was undergoing horrendous business relationships with my equal partner.
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She died, coinciding with my decision to go it alone and break the partnership and form a new business.

I commemorated this by designing this emblem/logo in memory of my late mother and in recognition of a new start in business.

It has remained with me ever since and has accompanied many articles that I have written, as well as being the company logo that accompanied all business administration.

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This is the avatar of my co-author, Elfreda Pretorius

A little girl picking up a baby sparrow

“Sparrow in my hand” is the personal Avatar of my writing partner, Elfreda.
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Drawn by her son, it commemorates a turning point in her life when that same son, at the age of seven, overcame life threatening injuries sustained in an accident.

This is his vision of his mother as a little girl, wondering how to save a baby sparrow that fell from its nest – the same way she wondered how to help him survive all those years ago.

“Sparrow in my hand” is the book of his healing they intend to write in the near future.

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Check out all “The Meadow” lenses and blogs

“The Meadow” has its own home page where you can read all about this story

“The Meadow” is ready to be shared with the world.However, before that can happen, there are certain factors which need addressing.

The main issue here is to get the story out there and attract people by showing snippets and characters in the book.

Here goes my lists of articles for you to follow regarding a great love story that spans over thousands of years.

I hope you can get something from all of them.

The Meadow home page

CLICK ON TO THE ABOVE LINK TO TAKE YOU TO THE MEADOW HOME BLOG PAGE FOR ALL OTHER BLOGS AND ARTICLES REGARDING “THE MEADOW”

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Follow my other links

These are from various sites and different people

This is all about viral marketing and how to draw people to you. All my communication will be detailed in the form of links whereby the loop becomes complete.
The Meadow Home Page
Go here to find all the detail regarding the promotion and marketing of “The Meadow”. This is my showcase site.
My Website for people to post their own material
See in more detail how “The Meadow” has developed.
MySpace
See another showpiece on “The Meadow”.
Elfreda, my writing partner’s own website
Here you will find all you need to know about life skills.
Writer,Author,Publishing Club
Gary Eby’s group in Squidoo.
TheSpiritGuides.co.uk.collection
Another place to read and post your blogs. This is no ordinary Spiritual site. Instead it is full of information, events and articles.
The Bookglutton Club
Join me at this readers’ club.

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Contact us

We’re easily reached

mike-and-elfreda-togther7If you are interested in learning more about “The Meadow”, then you can contact us as follows:–

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Address:

No. 8 High Throston,
TS26 0LJ
UK

Elfreda:

No. 22 Oakville,

L6H 2B5, Canada

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Telephone: +(0044) 1429 279814
Fax: +(0044) 1429 231255
Email: themeadowblog@gmail.com

Elfreda:

+(0001) 905 815 0734

Email: elfredapretorius@gmail.com

~~~~~~~~~~~

Links:

.

The Meadow home page

The Meadow at Twitter

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