This book makes the compelling argument that Chaucer, the "Perle"-poet, and "The Cloud of Unknowing" author exploited analogue and metaphor for marking out the pedagogical gap between science and the imagination. These writers take up an Aristotelian confidence in reason as a proof model for works of the imagination. St. Augustine, too, had argued persuasively that we might well train ourselves "to discern in the light of reason what we] already hold by faith." By the 12th century, John of Salisbury, in his "Metalogicon," had argued that "sensation is the progenitor of science." Chaucer, the "Perle"-poet, and the author of "The Cloud of Unknowing" set out models for such instruction--for seeing from the center--as they map the pedagogical energy of the browsing imagination. Here, Linda Tarte Holley adds definition to arguments that still gain our attention and energies in the twenty-first century.

This collection makes the compelling argument that Chaucer, the Perle -poet, and The Cloud of Unknowing author, exploited analogue and metaphor for marking out the pedagogical gap between science and the imagination. Here, respected contributors add definition to arguments that have our attention and energies in the twenty-first century.

Chris Hall, a man in his late 40's divorces his wife, changes his career, and becomes a 'skip tracer'. That career ends when his partner is killed on one of their assignments. He takes a break to recover, and meets and falls in love with a younger woman. They marry, and move to the foothills of CA. On a vacation they are both shot, and he is told she did not recover. He feels guilty, thinking she was killed because of his past work. He proceeds to hunt for her killer. At this time he encounters a secret society, formed to help people find justice. It is called the Jupiter Mountain Society. In his search he learns things about his wife's past that he was unaware of, and hears rumors that she is still alive.

Sharecropping was a hard life that made for rough, work-worn hands and sore bent backs but it also built a work ethic of honesty, and a belief in fair dealing. It was a family affair everyone had to pull his or her weight and contribute. An honest day's work for an honest day's pay. A cliche, true, but it was the reputation that my dad had with all those who knew him. Clyde and Naomi Crabtree Holley were my parents. My dad was industrious, inventive and virtually indefatigable. He was practical, straightforward, tough-minded and plainspoken, and, from my standpoint, a strict and harsh disciplinarian with a handy razor strap My mother was grit and grace with a heartbeat. She worked as hard as any man, then turned around and loved everyone around her selflessly. From the flour sack shirts and dresses she sewed to the homemade jam she made from growing, picking, canning and storing fruits; her resourcefulness, initiative and originality seemed endless. Her culinary creations were a special treat to the entire community, and her patterns, handiwork and crafts as skilled and creative as anything I've encountered since. Where dad was tough and unbending, my mother was gentle, kind and compassionate, although she did keep a peach-tree switch nearby, and knew how to use it. What I had was hard-working parents with calloused and blistered hands who provided me with everything that I really needed. Once in a while, play and fun replaced work. Rainy days, Saturday afternoons and Sundays after church were times set aside to relax and re-wind, visit neighbors and friends with my parents or walk the hills and valleys. A complementary, yet conspicuously opposite pair they were, but together they created a sense of balance in my life. To my young mind, being sharecroppers meant that we were poor folks. There were times when I was ashamed that I didn't have the clothes, toys or spending money that some of the kids of our more affluent farm neighbors had. And naturally, there were always a few in every community who looked down their nose at us, holding us accountable for the life we were born into. While that same few might have been dismayed by our lack of wealth, even they couldn't find fault with hard work and a harvest reaped. My parents were quick to dismiss their haughtiness as ignorance. We moved many times, and with each move we made new friends, but remained connected to our former neighbors. For me, each new community provided new faces, new experiences and new adventures.

This book is about being kind. In today's society, the news is filled with stories about kids being bullies. This book demonstrates the character trait of kindness. It is about a mischievous little cow, Gilbert, who is learning how to be a cow with true "cow"-racter.

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