2010 will soon be a memory...or memories. As we sit here all cozy in our Highbanks nest on this New Year's Eve, we are watching a special on John Wooden, a man who graced this fine planet for close to 100 years. One rule that his father gave him as a young man was to "make each day your masterpiece". What a lovely thought. Upon waking each morning, rather than wondering what will be faced as a reaction to the world, we would awaken with a pro-active presence of mind of what we can do, be, or say to create a masterpiece of a day not only for ourselves, but for others as well.
Thinking back over the year, there are certainly more masterpieces that could've been created...perhaps 2011 will be the year of our best masterpieces. Happy New Year's Eve!
Friday, December 31, 2010
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Keep It Simple, Turkey
As I was sipping a cup of coffee Sunday morning, I was listening to the morning news program on NPR. The topic was recipes for the Thanksgiving table and the guest was a cookbook critic. She was asked first what was the most elaborate recipe she’d found for turkey preparation. She sighed and then went into a long, somewhat laborious overview of a “project” that would take, in all reality, at least 72 hours to do well. Just like the first Thanksgiving, right? In a way, yes…
The Pilgrims, of course, didn’t have the stress of getting the bird thawed in time to make that little red button pop at just the right time for cooling and carving. They did, however, need to actually find the bird, kill it, pluck it, pick out the buckshot or arrow, etc. Then there was that issue of the heat for the cooking of said turkey. Cutting wood, building a fire, keeping it going (did it snow during the cooking process thus dampening the fire?)…misery, in a word. All this is the most extreme conditions.
And so, some 400+ years later, here we are “stalking” our birds still (some ordering from some far-away farm for the “just right” bird), brining, thawing, wringing our hands—the 21st century version of extreme conditions. Just how often does the basic cook tackle cooking something that has 20 pounds of girth?
The best way to honor our ancestors is in gaining wisdom from their travails. So, let’s keep it simple this Thanksgiving. No orange/pomegranate/coconut/curry stuffing that 90 percent of the guests around the table will politely taste while secretly yearning for a taste of oyster, or sage ,or whatever simple dressing is made faithfully year after year after year. Let’s save the extravagant and questionable recipes for a separate occasion. Thanksgiving is the one holiday that has probably been the least adulterated—let’s keep it simple, turkey.
Have a fine day.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
The Mindlessness of the Big Box Stores of the World
The other evening we attended to one of my most dreaded trips--going to Walmart. I avoid it as much as any human can. However, when the only hardware store that's open is the size of three football fields and all we need from there is a light bulb, the thought of trekking through not one but two big box stores drives us to the process of elimination where we can get the light bulb and detergent--so Walmart it is.
There's just something about a store this size that seems to exemplify all the worst we have come to be as consumers. Aisle after aisle of items that are of limited use, of limited quality, and limited value. Do we really need plastic everything in every color?
The public has been in an out-cry about spending hard-earned lottery dollars ever since it came to the state of Indiana. The ruination of the family; the creation of a great number of working poor; people will spend mindlessly on tickets when they need to buy bread. Is anyone seeing a similarity here?
Look at the average shopping cart at Walmart when you enter the store--they're massive! Think about the size of a "normal" grocery store shopping cart...then look at these behemoths. They're big for a purpose; they're scaled with the enormity of the store just like Vegas scales their signs on their casinos. Now look at the people coming out of Walmart--90% of those carts are filled to the absolute brim with items. Needed items? And all these items in under-sized plastic bags with the Walmart advertising emblazoned--free advertising all around--it's mind-boggling.
The holidays will soon be upon us; the economy isn't growing at nearly enough of a pace to be pronounced healthy. The Christmas trees were already appearing at Walmart--and doesn't everyone need a blue or pink or purple Christmas tree? (I actually saw those when I was on this dreaded trek.) Christmas music will soon be playing, and the prices will soon be artificially falling. And people will buy and buy and buy for whatever reason. The massive carts will continue to spill over with merchandise; then the bills will come.
I have nothing against the Walmarts of the world in general. I question many of their economic principles, but this could be any big box store doing the same damage to the general public. Walmart just seems to enjoy the forefront status, so they're the biggest of the big.
My concern does lie with the idea that we're in a lower-middle class to middle class rut that isn't very pretty from an economic or sociological standpoint. We're buying odd things at an odd time. We're not living below our means and trying to be conservative. We feel deserving. We feel that large amounts of "stuff" will make us feel better. Unfortunately, like a house of cards, it's going to fall...yet again. The economic turn isn't done with us yet. But we can certainly soften the blow by THINKING.
This season let's think out each purchase and teach our kids and grandkids valuable lessons in life along the way. Buy one good, sturdy gift--not 9 things that will fall apart by spring. And, for every gift bought, give something to someone who truly needs it. Allow your kids to see that they are a part of that sacrifice for their brothers and sisters around the world and in their own back yards. What better "gift" can we give to our offspring than the gift of high principles that involves loving our neighbors as ourselves?
Have a fine day.
There's just something about a store this size that seems to exemplify all the worst we have come to be as consumers. Aisle after aisle of items that are of limited use, of limited quality, and limited value. Do we really need plastic everything in every color?
The public has been in an out-cry about spending hard-earned lottery dollars ever since it came to the state of Indiana. The ruination of the family; the creation of a great number of working poor; people will spend mindlessly on tickets when they need to buy bread. Is anyone seeing a similarity here?
Look at the average shopping cart at Walmart when you enter the store--they're massive! Think about the size of a "normal" grocery store shopping cart...then look at these behemoths. They're big for a purpose; they're scaled with the enormity of the store just like Vegas scales their signs on their casinos. Now look at the people coming out of Walmart--90% of those carts are filled to the absolute brim with items. Needed items? And all these items in under-sized plastic bags with the Walmart advertising emblazoned--free advertising all around--it's mind-boggling.
The holidays will soon be upon us; the economy isn't growing at nearly enough of a pace to be pronounced healthy. The Christmas trees were already appearing at Walmart--and doesn't everyone need a blue or pink or purple Christmas tree? (I actually saw those when I was on this dreaded trek.) Christmas music will soon be playing, and the prices will soon be artificially falling. And people will buy and buy and buy for whatever reason. The massive carts will continue to spill over with merchandise; then the bills will come.
I have nothing against the Walmarts of the world in general. I question many of their economic principles, but this could be any big box store doing the same damage to the general public. Walmart just seems to enjoy the forefront status, so they're the biggest of the big.
My concern does lie with the idea that we're in a lower-middle class to middle class rut that isn't very pretty from an economic or sociological standpoint. We're buying odd things at an odd time. We're not living below our means and trying to be conservative. We feel deserving. We feel that large amounts of "stuff" will make us feel better. Unfortunately, like a house of cards, it's going to fall...yet again. The economic turn isn't done with us yet. But we can certainly soften the blow by THINKING.
This season let's think out each purchase and teach our kids and grandkids valuable lessons in life along the way. Buy one good, sturdy gift--not 9 things that will fall apart by spring. And, for every gift bought, give something to someone who truly needs it. Allow your kids to see that they are a part of that sacrifice for their brothers and sisters around the world and in their own back yards. What better "gift" can we give to our offspring than the gift of high principles that involves loving our neighbors as ourselves?
Have a fine day.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Sunrise/Sunset
In the past two weekends, we have celebrated the wedding of a great-nephew and welcomed his lovely wife into our family; we have also bid tearful good-byes to the mother of a very dear friend. Sunrise/sunset.
The song by the same name is sung at many weddings, including my own. As a younger person, we're captivated by the verses marveling over the young girl and the young man as they grow swiftly into adulthood. It is a most appropriate song to usher in parents of the bride and groom.
Thinking about the same song, it is also a beautiful tribute to the "sunset" of life. "One season following another, laden with happiness and tears." This is the balance of life--happiness and tears, one season flowing into the next.
My fondest thoughts and prayers go out to both groups. We know that there will be tears along the path of the happily married couple. We pray for them to have the strength it will take to endure. We also pray for them to celebrate all the happy moments, whether small or large. We also know that the lovely family who said an earthly good-bye to their mother this week have endured those tears along the path of her illness. We also know that the release from a frail and withered earthly body is a time of celebration when the spirit is free to soar.
Sunrise...sunset...
Have a fine day.
The song by the same name is sung at many weddings, including my own. As a younger person, we're captivated by the verses marveling over the young girl and the young man as they grow swiftly into adulthood. It is a most appropriate song to usher in parents of the bride and groom.
Thinking about the same song, it is also a beautiful tribute to the "sunset" of life. "One season following another, laden with happiness and tears." This is the balance of life--happiness and tears, one season flowing into the next.
My fondest thoughts and prayers go out to both groups. We know that there will be tears along the path of the happily married couple. We pray for them to have the strength it will take to endure. We also pray for them to celebrate all the happy moments, whether small or large. We also know that the lovely family who said an earthly good-bye to their mother this week have endured those tears along the path of her illness. We also know that the release from a frail and withered earthly body is a time of celebration when the spirit is free to soar.
Sunrise...sunset...
Have a fine day.
Friday, October 15, 2010
See the Divine in Simplicity
Keep it simple, stupid. The not to soothing--albeit effective--way of reminding us that as humans we have a terrific way of making the simplest of tasks complex beyond belief. There's an old joke passed through the education community about a dead horse and how the issue would be handled. As imagined, the suggestions range from hiring an outside committee to do an investigational study of the dead horse to putting a lighter rider on the dead horse. Of course, the simple answer--it's a dead horse; dismount--is never discovered since it's just too easy of an answer.
Lately I've been reading a book on our styles of embracing theology. The author brought up an interesting term: functional theology. I like this. It causes me to think about how my theology literally functions in the day-to-day world. I also like simplicity. When I cobble these two together, I allow myself to blessedly see the Divine in Simplicity.
When we look at the world, we have two choices: to see it in all its messiness with hassles to the left and hassles to the right. In looking at this angle, things seem convoluted at best and hopeless at worst. We never get to see a glimpse of the world and its problems beyond the surface. And the surface is where the "ick" of life tends to rise to the top.
If we choose the second option--looking and searching for the Divine in Simplicity--we start to see the underpinnings of our foundations of the meaning of life for us: faith, love, a spirit of undying and unyielding support for one another. We can see through the "ick" and recognize that there is good. We can be a part of that deeper good.
As we wake up each morning, three things should simply happen: a smile, a stretch, and a prayer of thanks. This is a day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.
As we go to sleep at night, three things should simply happen: a smile, a stretch, and a prayer of thanks for being given the chance once again to love one another.
The Divine in Simplicity...
Have a fine day.
Lately I've been reading a book on our styles of embracing theology. The author brought up an interesting term: functional theology. I like this. It causes me to think about how my theology literally functions in the day-to-day world. I also like simplicity. When I cobble these two together, I allow myself to blessedly see the Divine in Simplicity.
When we look at the world, we have two choices: to see it in all its messiness with hassles to the left and hassles to the right. In looking at this angle, things seem convoluted at best and hopeless at worst. We never get to see a glimpse of the world and its problems beyond the surface. And the surface is where the "ick" of life tends to rise to the top.
If we choose the second option--looking and searching for the Divine in Simplicity--we start to see the underpinnings of our foundations of the meaning of life for us: faith, love, a spirit of undying and unyielding support for one another. We can see through the "ick" and recognize that there is good. We can be a part of that deeper good.
As we wake up each morning, three things should simply happen: a smile, a stretch, and a prayer of thanks. This is a day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.
As we go to sleep at night, three things should simply happen: a smile, a stretch, and a prayer of thanks for being given the chance once again to love one another.
The Divine in Simplicity...
Have a fine day.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Carrie's Songs
I don't listen much to the radio anymore; I buy very little music in general. It just all seems to sound, to some degree, the same. The same electronic and digital finiteness that doesn't allow for the human voice's true sounds to come through...this takes the emotional tug from what we hear. Oh sure, the words are there, but truly hearing a voice in all its purity has a quality to it that is more than good or bad. It allows us to go to a higher level of aesthetic appreciation.
Last night all things worked out and we got to go and hear Carrie sing and play that wonderful acoustical guitar. What a treat. No wires, no electronic voice-altering tricks--just Carrie's pure voice and pure lyrics.
Another reason I tend not to listen to music much anymore is because the lyrics just seem somewhat recycled and predictable. If I listen to ten songs in a row, at least half of them are repetitious at best. Where's the story that my mind is looking for to enjoy the song as a whole?
Carrie's lyrics make sense...they tell a story. They conjure an image. They take you to a place where you can feel yourself being transformed by the lyric and the accompaniment.
A few years ago, Carrie wrote a song about the products of my beloved photography hobby. I hadn't heard the song for quite sometime, but last night as she sang it, I could, in my mind's eye, see a slideshow of various photos that floated along with her words and those lovely sounds from emanated from the guitar.
As the evening ended, Carrie shared a song with the audience that caused a beautiful and harmonious sing-along. A few years back, she gave me the chance of a lifetime by asking me to sing harmony to her lovely voice for her group's first cd; few things in my life have been, at the same time, more intimidating and blissful. Last night as the lyrics and harmony came back to me, I happily joined in the participation that came from a group in an easy and joyful communion with one another.
If you get a chance, go and spend an evening with Carrie D'Esposito and The White Pine League--they'll give you an evening of real and true music that our souls truly love.
Thanks,Carrie--for sharing your words, your music, and your voice.
Last night all things worked out and we got to go and hear Carrie sing and play that wonderful acoustical guitar. What a treat. No wires, no electronic voice-altering tricks--just Carrie's pure voice and pure lyrics.
Another reason I tend not to listen to music much anymore is because the lyrics just seem somewhat recycled and predictable. If I listen to ten songs in a row, at least half of them are repetitious at best. Where's the story that my mind is looking for to enjoy the song as a whole?
Carrie's lyrics make sense...they tell a story. They conjure an image. They take you to a place where you can feel yourself being transformed by the lyric and the accompaniment.
A few years ago, Carrie wrote a song about the products of my beloved photography hobby. I hadn't heard the song for quite sometime, but last night as she sang it, I could, in my mind's eye, see a slideshow of various photos that floated along with her words and those lovely sounds from emanated from the guitar.
As the evening ended, Carrie shared a song with the audience that caused a beautiful and harmonious sing-along. A few years back, she gave me the chance of a lifetime by asking me to sing harmony to her lovely voice for her group's first cd; few things in my life have been, at the same time, more intimidating and blissful. Last night as the lyrics and harmony came back to me, I happily joined in the participation that came from a group in an easy and joyful communion with one another.
If you get a chance, go and spend an evening with Carrie D'Esposito and The White Pine League--they'll give you an evening of real and true music that our souls truly love.
Thanks,Carrie--for sharing your words, your music, and your voice.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
One Mile
After reading the October 2010 issue of The Atlantic, I came away being a bit torn by a paradox. On one hand I was frustrated with all that my generation of Baby Boomers has done--not the Civil Rights victories, not the discoveries, not the innovation that comes from our 1946-64 little group of several million. I was frustrated by the fact that even though we've done remarkable things throughout history as a group, we've also done some pretty ugly things as well. Like leaving our kids with trillions of dollars of debt, using our own sense of entitlement to plow through resources of all kinds with no regard to the future, and even though we been given the opportunities to intelligently and wisely fulfill our "destinies" as this special group of kids born of the earlier "greatest generation", we sometimes just make some pretty knuckle-headed moves. But then comes the other side of the paradox.
We still know how to care; we know how to look for things that need to be done and make the effort to change things for the better. We CAN make things better. Sometimes we just need to turn off the yammering national reports of gloom and doom and look closer to home. Maybe only one mile. Here's my idea...
For the next few months, let's each think about where we live as the epicenter and measure out a one mile circumference. Not hard to do--grab a map, a GPS, or a Google ap. Really study that mile and then think about what you could do to make that mile perimeter a better, happier, and healthier place. If everyone who reads this humble little blog would practice this and tell one other person, we'd have a good start.
Some will have massive populations of people with in that mile circumference. I'm guessing within that there are a few that could really use an ear, a shoulder, or a sturdy back to move something, to haul something, to cook or bake something, or just to visit and maybe help write letters or share a cup of coffee...the list is infinite.
Here we're short on people, but heavy on land...we can be better stewards and take good care of it by not consuming so much packaging that needs to go to the trash, by composting more, and by using things until they're worn out. Around here there are churches and cemeteries that are just getting by with fewer and fewer people to help with upkeep...another opportunity.
So...measure that mile. See what's out there. Do some simple good things. We don't have to set the world on its ear; we can, however, make our backyards good, healthy, and happy places once again. That's a pretty good legacy not only for us Boomers, but for everyone before and after us.
Have a fine day.
We still know how to care; we know how to look for things that need to be done and make the effort to change things for the better. We CAN make things better. Sometimes we just need to turn off the yammering national reports of gloom and doom and look closer to home. Maybe only one mile. Here's my idea...
For the next few months, let's each think about where we live as the epicenter and measure out a one mile circumference. Not hard to do--grab a map, a GPS, or a Google ap. Really study that mile and then think about what you could do to make that mile perimeter a better, happier, and healthier place. If everyone who reads this humble little blog would practice this and tell one other person, we'd have a good start.
Some will have massive populations of people with in that mile circumference. I'm guessing within that there are a few that could really use an ear, a shoulder, or a sturdy back to move something, to haul something, to cook or bake something, or just to visit and maybe help write letters or share a cup of coffee...the list is infinite.
Here we're short on people, but heavy on land...we can be better stewards and take good care of it by not consuming so much packaging that needs to go to the trash, by composting more, and by using things until they're worn out. Around here there are churches and cemeteries that are just getting by with fewer and fewer people to help with upkeep...another opportunity.
So...measure that mile. See what's out there. Do some simple good things. We don't have to set the world on its ear; we can, however, make our backyards good, healthy, and happy places once again. That's a pretty good legacy not only for us Boomers, but for everyone before and after us.
Have a fine day.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
The Art of Reinvention
Today I made a soup over three times before deciding it was right. Thanks to my mom's bountious garden and her equally bountious generosity, I had a large bowl of tomatoes that were needing attention. Last night before calling it a night, I decided that today they would become a pot of homemade tomato soup with some nice, subtle French seasonings.
As I cooked the tomatoes down, they seemed kind of over-whelmed by the size of the pot I chose. I went to the refrigerator and decided that the chicken broth in the container would be a good addition; and, while I was at it, the pizza sauce would as well. After all, it was 99% tomatoes. What would a little basil and oregano hurt in with some marjoram and thyme?
After milling the original soup's contents of tomatoes, onions, and the more "French" spices, I added the broth, the sauce, and still it looked a bit demunitive in the cooking pot. Maybe some meat would bulk it up. Later, after thawing and cooking some ground sausage, it was added to the mix. NOW we were getting somewhere.
Another visit to the fridge found me face-to-face with a container of white rice from last night's supper. Hhhhmmm...that would thicken things a bit, so in it went. Now I'm thinking Mexican. I have some shredded Mexican style cheese, some sour cream, and some tortilla chips. That, with a packet of fajita mix and some added ancho pepper, and the taste grew richer and more interesting--in a good way.
I love the art of reinvention. It makes life so much more layered, more rich, more interesting. Whether it be a recipe that comes to life through trial and error, a change in our attitudes about ourselves and others, or our whole perspective of our place on this amazing planet, reinvention is not only fun from time to time, it is a necessary element of creating peace with ourselves and others.
So...go out there and have fun. Mess up a recipe; change your hair color; smile at people you normally frown at; bless those you normally curse. It's all about the reinvention and, with practice, we can make it a work of art.
Have a fine day.
As I cooked the tomatoes down, they seemed kind of over-whelmed by the size of the pot I chose. I went to the refrigerator and decided that the chicken broth in the container would be a good addition; and, while I was at it, the pizza sauce would as well. After all, it was 99% tomatoes. What would a little basil and oregano hurt in with some marjoram and thyme?
After milling the original soup's contents of tomatoes, onions, and the more "French" spices, I added the broth, the sauce, and still it looked a bit demunitive in the cooking pot. Maybe some meat would bulk it up. Later, after thawing and cooking some ground sausage, it was added to the mix. NOW we were getting somewhere.
Another visit to the fridge found me face-to-face with a container of white rice from last night's supper. Hhhhmmm...that would thicken things a bit, so in it went. Now I'm thinking Mexican. I have some shredded Mexican style cheese, some sour cream, and some tortilla chips. That, with a packet of fajita mix and some added ancho pepper, and the taste grew richer and more interesting--in a good way.
I love the art of reinvention. It makes life so much more layered, more rich, more interesting. Whether it be a recipe that comes to life through trial and error, a change in our attitudes about ourselves and others, or our whole perspective of our place on this amazing planet, reinvention is not only fun from time to time, it is a necessary element of creating peace with ourselves and others.
So...go out there and have fun. Mess up a recipe; change your hair color; smile at people you normally frown at; bless those you normally curse. It's all about the reinvention and, with practice, we can make it a work of art.
Have a fine day.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Just Wait...Must I??
We've been told from the time we were old enough to understand that waiting was a part of life. "Good things come to those who wait", "just wait until you grow up", "the wait will be worth it"...and so on. So why is it that we're just not very good at it--this waiting thing.
I think some of it comes from our culture, especially during the 20th century and beyond. We don't need to wait--things are fast serve, fast moving, fast turn-around. We want things done quickly, on the qt, in record time. Our heroes are "faster than a speeding bullet", "fast to the rescue", and they ride fast horses, fast motorcycles, or they drive fast cars, or fast boats...you get the picture.
And then I come out and sit on the deck and start writing and the cats show up. Presently, I have a committee of four various sized felines surrounding my workspace in four various states of repose. Cats don't do "hurry up"; cats do as they please. They stretch, they recline, they doze, they come by and allow me to pet them one at a time. But they don't do any of these things "faster than a speeding bullet". I think this would be against the most basic laws of cat-dom.
So, I decide to do as the cats do...I don't rush. I'm not fast. I write as a person of leisure. I stop and sit and consider. I recline. And my thoughts come to me in the same fashion--they don't rush, but rather they float through my mind and on to the page. And you know what? I'll take this over a rush any day of the week.
Have a fine day...a nice, slow fine day.
I think some of it comes from our culture, especially during the 20th century and beyond. We don't need to wait--things are fast serve, fast moving, fast turn-around. We want things done quickly, on the qt, in record time. Our heroes are "faster than a speeding bullet", "fast to the rescue", and they ride fast horses, fast motorcycles, or they drive fast cars, or fast boats...you get the picture.
And then I come out and sit on the deck and start writing and the cats show up. Presently, I have a committee of four various sized felines surrounding my workspace in four various states of repose. Cats don't do "hurry up"; cats do as they please. They stretch, they recline, they doze, they come by and allow me to pet them one at a time. But they don't do any of these things "faster than a speeding bullet". I think this would be against the most basic laws of cat-dom.
So, I decide to do as the cats do...I don't rush. I'm not fast. I write as a person of leisure. I stop and sit and consider. I recline. And my thoughts come to me in the same fashion--they don't rush, but rather they float through my mind and on to the page. And you know what? I'll take this over a rush any day of the week.
Have a fine day...a nice, slow fine day.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Clean Windows
I looked out today and noticed just how dirty the windows had become; how long had they been that way? Who knows? But today I noticed them. I grabbed my handy miracle cloth, wet it down, and went to work. From the best I can tell, they'll look a lot better tomorrow.
Being a glasses wearer, I've also noticed on occasion, that my glasses lenses are dirty...really dirty. How is it that ten minutes earlier I didn't even notice that? I often wonder how I could see at all with the shape they're sometime in...ick.
Sometimes in life we kind of get that way. Our views of people, events, and even other countries get dimmed as a result of the "smudges" that are cast upon them. We only see them through less than pristine lenses. I try to think of this from time to time when my outlook on people, places, or things has soured or become smeary, so to speak. Maybe it's me that can make the change by clearing up the way I truly see life. Maybe I need to wipe away the grime of my pre-determined views and see much more clearly. Time to get out the proverbial wiping cloth.
My windows won't stay clean forever; nor will my view of the world. But it is good to keep in mind that with a few wipes of a cloth (or a change in attitude) we'll be seeing clearly again.
Have a fine day.
Being a glasses wearer, I've also noticed on occasion, that my glasses lenses are dirty...really dirty. How is it that ten minutes earlier I didn't even notice that? I often wonder how I could see at all with the shape they're sometime in...ick.
Sometimes in life we kind of get that way. Our views of people, events, and even other countries get dimmed as a result of the "smudges" that are cast upon them. We only see them through less than pristine lenses. I try to think of this from time to time when my outlook on people, places, or things has soured or become smeary, so to speak. Maybe it's me that can make the change by clearing up the way I truly see life. Maybe I need to wipe away the grime of my pre-determined views and see much more clearly. Time to get out the proverbial wiping cloth.
My windows won't stay clean forever; nor will my view of the world. But it is good to keep in mind that with a few wipes of a cloth (or a change in attitude) we'll be seeing clearly again.
Have a fine day.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
You Gotta Love a Cat
I'm guessing the title of this post brings a few "I don't think so's" from the audience. But really, even without the emotional attachment many of us have for the feline, you have to admit there's just something about a cat that can make you laugh or marvel at its unique nature.
At times, between our house and my in-law's house, it's pretty much "cat central". Good breeding stock--farms must do that to cats--they feel the need to multiply and multiply. Our current "herd" consists of Onyx, a solid black female and her two sons Re-Bob (named in honor of the beloved and no longer with us Bob) and Mr. Biggins (named Mr. because we were hoping beyond hope we had a Tom cat...tooooo many females). Our two " q-tip" cats (aptly named for their striped coats except for a while tip on their tails) and the darker q-tip's three kittens (one who recently re-located across the road to seek new company). The remaining two kittens, one black and yet to be named (it tends to be called a different name each time I see it, kind of like a mood kitty) and then Thor--the puniest little cat I think I've seen in years. This little guy is basically made up of fur and a skeletal system. He has chronic runny eyes and a wheeze that makes me think he'll be carrying his inhaler soon. I named him Thor in the hopes that this would give him inclination to grow--at least to tea cup size. No luck yet, although he does tear into food like a twenty pounder. Hope springs eternal.
We've had a lot of enjoyment from this motley crew. We've watched them grow up, playing and fighting and snoozing on the deck. There have been lots of sessions of head scratchings and a few belly rubs along the way. There's also been praise when one comes up from the field with a mouth full of dead mouse and grass in its mouth. They are, after all, farm cats and this is what makes them tick. And, they've done a good job of it; in the 20+ years we've lived here, we've yet to have a mouse in the house. (I'm not superstitious by nature, but I say that former statement with hesitation--hopefully I've not jinxed anything in the mouse department with this bold declaration.)
So, even if you're not a fan of cats, just give them a few minutes of your time someday, even from a distance. Their "cat-like ways" are indeed amazing.
At times, between our house and my in-law's house, it's pretty much "cat central". Good breeding stock--farms must do that to cats--they feel the need to multiply and multiply. Our current "herd" consists of Onyx, a solid black female and her two sons Re-Bob (named in honor of the beloved and no longer with us Bob) and Mr. Biggins (named Mr. because we were hoping beyond hope we had a Tom cat...tooooo many females). Our two " q-tip" cats (aptly named for their striped coats except for a while tip on their tails) and the darker q-tip's three kittens (one who recently re-located across the road to seek new company). The remaining two kittens, one black and yet to be named (it tends to be called a different name each time I see it, kind of like a mood kitty) and then Thor--the puniest little cat I think I've seen in years. This little guy is basically made up of fur and a skeletal system. He has chronic runny eyes and a wheeze that makes me think he'll be carrying his inhaler soon. I named him Thor in the hopes that this would give him inclination to grow--at least to tea cup size. No luck yet, although he does tear into food like a twenty pounder. Hope springs eternal.
We've had a lot of enjoyment from this motley crew. We've watched them grow up, playing and fighting and snoozing on the deck. There have been lots of sessions of head scratchings and a few belly rubs along the way. There's also been praise when one comes up from the field with a mouth full of dead mouse and grass in its mouth. They are, after all, farm cats and this is what makes them tick. And, they've done a good job of it; in the 20+ years we've lived here, we've yet to have a mouse in the house. (I'm not superstitious by nature, but I say that former statement with hesitation--hopefully I've not jinxed anything in the mouse department with this bold declaration.)
So, even if you're not a fan of cats, just give them a few minutes of your time someday, even from a distance. Their "cat-like ways" are indeed amazing.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Today I Heard a Plane
I took a break for a cup of tea late this afternoon on the deck after getting most of the house cleaned. It was also a good excuse to visit with the hummingbirds, I'll admit, as well as do a bit of reading. While sitting there in the quiet, I heard a plane flying to the north. Whenever I hear a plane while I'm outside, I normally look since most of them are low enough I can almost wave to the pilot--which I do due to my being a habitual "waver".
Many people don't realize that just across the river from us is a very nice landing strip that people use quite frequently, it seems. Tom's late cousin, Rich, would come to visit us on occasion or offer us an afternoon of flying when we met him there. Due to its close proximity to our house, the planes are quite low either on take-off or landing, so it's always a waving opportunity.
So, today when I heard the plane, my thoughts, quite naturally, went back to 9-11-01. I was principal at Otwell Elementary at that time and this is one of those occasions you pray never happens on your watch. I didn't have any tv reception in my office at that time, so I spent hurried trips to the custodian's office to get updates and watch quick clips of the coverage in order to keep the adults in the building aware of events while keeping the kids in their safety zone of "just another day". Tom also called me from time to time to give me the needed information as events unfolded.
Needless to say, the phone calls started pouring in from concerned parents, grandparents, etc. In retrospect, I know they weren't terrified that their children were in danger in the building that day; they were terrified their children were in danger from the change in events the world was helplessly witnessing.
The kids themselves had interesting perceptions of what happened. Some were blessedly oblivious, while others knew/heard enough to know that something happened and they were trying to grasp it in their capacity.
I can remember one little boy in particular who, on a good day, had difficulty grasping the world in its day-to-day form. The days following 9-11 were surreal to him, so he came and visited me in my office quite often--not because he was in trouble, but because he needed to give me "messages". His message to me, every time, was that he saw the planes crashing to the Twin Towers over and over again on the news--to him that was literal. He would come to my office door, meet me in the hall, or come find me wherever I was. He would use his hands to pantomime the tragedy, forming one hand in the shape of a plane and then "crash" it into his other arm while telling me that "it happened again--I saw it on tv". I explained to him several times that week that tv shows the same thing over and over again and that the planes weren't doing that anymore. Then, every time, he would look at me and make the same request--"can I rub your head?" I had a flattop at that time and apparently the texture of it was somehow soothing to him...I had my head rubbed a lot that week.
One other event I can remember with great clarity was the silence and pristine nature of the skies. I recall calling Kurt out onto the deck later that week and asking him to look up. I suggested to him that at no time since the discovery of air flight had the skies in the United States been empty--completely devoid of any planes, jets, helicopters--anything. No familiar white streaks through the sky from vapor trails, no sounds--we were witnessing a virtual time warp.
Since that day our world has certainly changed in many ways; we have regained many of our old habits, yet with an underlying guardedness. We mark the event each year with mixed emotions of anger, sadness, helplessness, and confusion. We want to deny that this could ever have happened on United States soil, but it did. Life is not as it once was.
So, today when I heard that plane, I looked up, said a prayer for peace and patience and a deeper understanding of how we all play a part in the universe. And then I waved.
Many people don't realize that just across the river from us is a very nice landing strip that people use quite frequently, it seems. Tom's late cousin, Rich, would come to visit us on occasion or offer us an afternoon of flying when we met him there. Due to its close proximity to our house, the planes are quite low either on take-off or landing, so it's always a waving opportunity.
So, today when I heard the plane, my thoughts, quite naturally, went back to 9-11-01. I was principal at Otwell Elementary at that time and this is one of those occasions you pray never happens on your watch. I didn't have any tv reception in my office at that time, so I spent hurried trips to the custodian's office to get updates and watch quick clips of the coverage in order to keep the adults in the building aware of events while keeping the kids in their safety zone of "just another day". Tom also called me from time to time to give me the needed information as events unfolded.
Needless to say, the phone calls started pouring in from concerned parents, grandparents, etc. In retrospect, I know they weren't terrified that their children were in danger in the building that day; they were terrified their children were in danger from the change in events the world was helplessly witnessing.
The kids themselves had interesting perceptions of what happened. Some were blessedly oblivious, while others knew/heard enough to know that something happened and they were trying to grasp it in their capacity.
I can remember one little boy in particular who, on a good day, had difficulty grasping the world in its day-to-day form. The days following 9-11 were surreal to him, so he came and visited me in my office quite often--not because he was in trouble, but because he needed to give me "messages". His message to me, every time, was that he saw the planes crashing to the Twin Towers over and over again on the news--to him that was literal. He would come to my office door, meet me in the hall, or come find me wherever I was. He would use his hands to pantomime the tragedy, forming one hand in the shape of a plane and then "crash" it into his other arm while telling me that "it happened again--I saw it on tv". I explained to him several times that week that tv shows the same thing over and over again and that the planes weren't doing that anymore. Then, every time, he would look at me and make the same request--"can I rub your head?" I had a flattop at that time and apparently the texture of it was somehow soothing to him...I had my head rubbed a lot that week.
One other event I can remember with great clarity was the silence and pristine nature of the skies. I recall calling Kurt out onto the deck later that week and asking him to look up. I suggested to him that at no time since the discovery of air flight had the skies in the United States been empty--completely devoid of any planes, jets, helicopters--anything. No familiar white streaks through the sky from vapor trails, no sounds--we were witnessing a virtual time warp.
Since that day our world has certainly changed in many ways; we have regained many of our old habits, yet with an underlying guardedness. We mark the event each year with mixed emotions of anger, sadness, helplessness, and confusion. We want to deny that this could ever have happened on United States soil, but it did. Life is not as it once was.
So, today when I heard that plane, I looked up, said a prayer for peace and patience and a deeper understanding of how we all play a part in the universe. And then I waved.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Scatter Brains Unite!
I read a very interesting article today from the New York Times that should turn how we learn on its collective ear...IF we listen and put it into practice. It seems that after all the hoopla on learning styles and the old axiom of studying in one place in one setting are all wet...our brains just don't work that way.
Remember how our parents (and if we're parents how we) always naturally accept the fact that when kiddo gets home from school that he or she needs that little cozy corner of the world to study? You know, the one with zero distractions? Wrong. Now studies show that quiet and white walls don't do anything for memory retention; in fact, they tend to dull the senses to the point that retention is lessened.
Hallelujah! Another compartmentalized theory debunked! The beauty of the complexity of the human mind once again recognized for what it is--not a simple replicating machine that can only learn in one or two capacities, but a marvel that can take in vast amounts of information simultaneously and process it with ease. In other words...it's okay to be a scattered learner...viva la scatter brains!
Remember how our parents (and if we're parents how we) always naturally accept the fact that when kiddo gets home from school that he or she needs that little cozy corner of the world to study? You know, the one with zero distractions? Wrong. Now studies show that quiet and white walls don't do anything for memory retention; in fact, they tend to dull the senses to the point that retention is lessened.
Hallelujah! Another compartmentalized theory debunked! The beauty of the complexity of the human mind once again recognized for what it is--not a simple replicating machine that can only learn in one or two capacities, but a marvel that can take in vast amounts of information simultaneously and process it with ease. In other words...it's okay to be a scattered learner...viva la scatter brains!
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Just Being There
How many times in life have we "just been there" for someone? How many times has someone "just been there" for us? We expend a lot of energy on figuring out the appropriate things to say, the appropriate note, card, bouquet, etc. And normally, as we can all attest, "just being there" is 9 times out of 10 the best thing to be.
Being humans, we are social beings even when we think we aren't. We might be having a really lousy day, be worried about someone or something, or feel uneasy about an event in our lives. Then someone we love shows up, takes our hand, gives a smile, and is "just there"...it works like magic.
A week or so ago, I wrote a blog on spiritualism talking about the profound words "Be still and know that I Am". I think if we take this message to heart and are still, we become more perceptive to the needs of others. And, at this time, we can "just be there" and do good things.
Have a fine day.
Being humans, we are social beings even when we think we aren't. We might be having a really lousy day, be worried about someone or something, or feel uneasy about an event in our lives. Then someone we love shows up, takes our hand, gives a smile, and is "just there"...it works like magic.
A week or so ago, I wrote a blog on spiritualism talking about the profound words "Be still and know that I Am". I think if we take this message to heart and are still, we become more perceptive to the needs of others. And, at this time, we can "just be there" and do good things.
Have a fine day.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Simple Gifts
I woke up this morning with most of a whole day unaccounted for--what pleasure! I had a mental list, but knew it was going to result in about a 12 hour day; that didn't seem to palatable even though it is Labor Day. There's also an evening road trip to Indy that figures into the equation. So, with all that info in place, I decided to do one thing for sure and that was to gather up our "simple gifts" to give to the hospital in Jasper.
Anyone can do this if you own a current magazine--just that easy.
If you've ever visited a hospital's waiting room on any floor or the emergency room, one thing you will more than likely find are magazines that could be archived for the ages. When your mind needs a diversion, reading what was the "latest and greatest" in July of 2006 just doesn't quite catch it.
A couple of years ago, it seemed that for a short stint of time we were spending more than our share of time in various hospital waiting rooms. One evening as Tom and I sat amongst the piles of 2 and 3 year old periodicals, he said, "We have to do something about this." I agreed.
So, from that time on, we've been offering our simple gifts of up-to-date magazines. See? Something anyone can do. I can guarantee you'll see a smile on the face of the person receiving the new/gently used periodicals. And, most importantly, think of that person sitting in one of those waiting rooms...at least this simple gift might help them for a few moments escape their surroundings.
Have a fine day.
Anyone can do this if you own a current magazine--just that easy.
If you've ever visited a hospital's waiting room on any floor or the emergency room, one thing you will more than likely find are magazines that could be archived for the ages. When your mind needs a diversion, reading what was the "latest and greatest" in July of 2006 just doesn't quite catch it.
A couple of years ago, it seemed that for a short stint of time we were spending more than our share of time in various hospital waiting rooms. One evening as Tom and I sat amongst the piles of 2 and 3 year old periodicals, he said, "We have to do something about this." I agreed.
So, from that time on, we've been offering our simple gifts of up-to-date magazines. See? Something anyone can do. I can guarantee you'll see a smile on the face of the person receiving the new/gently used periodicals. And, most importantly, think of that person sitting in one of those waiting rooms...at least this simple gift might help them for a few moments escape their surroundings.
Have a fine day.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Being Still on Sunday
I was raised being told if your ox is in the ditch on the Sabbath, you can pull it out; just don't be the one kicking it in. I'm sure many of you grew up with this saying as well. For those that haven't and can't quite get the ox in the ditch analogy, it means that we are to keep the Sabbath holy and rest in accordance with God's commandment.
You'd think this would be a breeze, right? To be given a day off with the command to have the day off to rest, regroup, and revitalize through meditation. And, I will admit, some Sundays I do just those things...especially the resting part courtesy of the hammock. However, there are many Sundays that seem to almost be little vignettes of torture. I see things that need to be done; weeds to be pulled, windows to be washed, floors to be mopped. Sometimes I relent and just start working, but this past month I've been making a true attempt to keep the Sabbath just that--a sabbatical from all the world's needs.
I do believe I am getting better at this; today I did some reading, some thinking, and some napping. And I must admit after all that, I did feel more revitalized. I also made a couple of minor slips and moved a wind chime over to the deck and pulled a couple of weeds that seemed almost to be taunting me. Oh well...more faithful living is all about the tiny steps, right?
As the next week ends, I'm going to concentrate on the Sabbath once again; I figure with practice, someday I'll get it right.
Have a fine day.
You'd think this would be a breeze, right? To be given a day off with the command to have the day off to rest, regroup, and revitalize through meditation. And, I will admit, some Sundays I do just those things...especially the resting part courtesy of the hammock. However, there are many Sundays that seem to almost be little vignettes of torture. I see things that need to be done; weeds to be pulled, windows to be washed, floors to be mopped. Sometimes I relent and just start working, but this past month I've been making a true attempt to keep the Sabbath just that--a sabbatical from all the world's needs.
I do believe I am getting better at this; today I did some reading, some thinking, and some napping. And I must admit after all that, I did feel more revitalized. I also made a couple of minor slips and moved a wind chime over to the deck and pulled a couple of weeds that seemed almost to be taunting me. Oh well...more faithful living is all about the tiny steps, right?
As the next week ends, I'm going to concentrate on the Sabbath once again; I figure with practice, someday I'll get it right.
Have a fine day.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Considering Futility
The past several days have found me reading the book of Ecclesiastes. Nothing like the challenge of reading several chapters of a work that starts out bemoaning the "futility of everything". Wow...and yet I kept reading.
I sometimes feel great compassion for people who pick, at random, various places to start reading a Bible. Some passages flow seamlessly and entice the reader to keep going. Some, with all the begetting, tend to make one turn to another random passage--unless you're truly into genealogy with a vengeance. And then there are the passages from Ecclesiastes...futility...futility...futility. Tough one to stick with, that one.
Think about a typical day--how much futility do we tolerate? Watched much tv lately? How many "news" (and I use that term loosely) shows are on that a)cite the obvious and b)repeat it ad nauseum? We're talking HOURS of our day. Add to this the mindless chatter on various radio stations and we have non-stop mongers of futility on two different levels. First, the futility of the litany of jabber. Second, the message that they all bring us is not one of hope or help, but merely futility.
As I read deeper into Ecclesiastes, I found a passage that made me smile: "Well, one thing, at least, is good: It is for a man to eat well, drink a good glass of wine, accept his position in life, and enjoy his work whatever his job may be, for however the Lord may let him live. And, of course, it is very good if a man has received wealth from the Lord, and the good health to enjoy it. To enjoy you work and to accept your lot in life--that is indeed a gift from God. The person who does that will not need to look back with sorrow on his past, for God gives him joy."
So, I push the "futile" things in life aside and turn off the tv, the radio, and the news that gives me no suggestions for making a better life of the current mess. And I do eat well, drink a good glass of wine, accept my position in life and enjoy my work...and keep futility at bay.
Give it a try and have a fine day.
I sometimes feel great compassion for people who pick, at random, various places to start reading a Bible. Some passages flow seamlessly and entice the reader to keep going. Some, with all the begetting, tend to make one turn to another random passage--unless you're truly into genealogy with a vengeance. And then there are the passages from Ecclesiastes...futility...futility...futility. Tough one to stick with, that one.
Think about a typical day--how much futility do we tolerate? Watched much tv lately? How many "news" (and I use that term loosely) shows are on that a)cite the obvious and b)repeat it ad nauseum? We're talking HOURS of our day. Add to this the mindless chatter on various radio stations and we have non-stop mongers of futility on two different levels. First, the futility of the litany of jabber. Second, the message that they all bring us is not one of hope or help, but merely futility.
As I read deeper into Ecclesiastes, I found a passage that made me smile: "Well, one thing, at least, is good: It is for a man to eat well, drink a good glass of wine, accept his position in life, and enjoy his work whatever his job may be, for however the Lord may let him live. And, of course, it is very good if a man has received wealth from the Lord, and the good health to enjoy it. To enjoy you work and to accept your lot in life--that is indeed a gift from God. The person who does that will not need to look back with sorrow on his past, for God gives him joy."
So, I push the "futile" things in life aside and turn off the tv, the radio, and the news that gives me no suggestions for making a better life of the current mess. And I do eat well, drink a good glass of wine, accept my position in life and enjoy my work...and keep futility at bay.
Give it a try and have a fine day.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Catch a Wave
I'm a waver by marriage. When we were first married, I noticed that when we drove down county roads, Tom would casually wave to most everyone we met. I asked him why once and he told me, "I'm a farmer and I wave at everybody. Farmers do that." Words I remembered. As time went by, I noticed I started picking up the same habit. Now, 26+ years later, I am a consummate waver.
When we're on the Harley, I have a great time doing the "biker wave". That low-key low armed wave that unites us all. It's also a great time to wave a people sitting on porches, on riding lawn mowers, and kids peering out windows. Great fun!
Waving is mighty important; while we're driving down the roadways in those self-enclosed tanks where it becomes very easy to be out of touch with all human contact, a simple wave will do wonders for someone's mood. They might not wave back, but I guarantee you that they'll be waving at someone else before too long and feeling pretty good about it.
I'll be waving; you do the same. Guaranteed to bring a smile to your day.
When we're on the Harley, I have a great time doing the "biker wave". That low-key low armed wave that unites us all. It's also a great time to wave a people sitting on porches, on riding lawn mowers, and kids peering out windows. Great fun!
Waving is mighty important; while we're driving down the roadways in those self-enclosed tanks where it becomes very easy to be out of touch with all human contact, a simple wave will do wonders for someone's mood. They might not wave back, but I guarantee you that they'll be waving at someone else before too long and feeling pretty good about it.
I'll be waving; you do the same. Guaranteed to bring a smile to your day.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Different Yet the Same
The other evening as Tom and I were coming home from a road trip, we chose the two-lane route so we could pass through a number of little towns. As we drove along, I made the comment that sometimes it was just fun to look at others' towns, yards, homes, store fronts. Tom made a comment that rang very true: they're all different yet they're all the same. They are.
Town, city, village...all with their own flavor, yet all the same in purpose. They're home to young and old; those who never want to leave and those who never want to stay. The festivals and events that make each town unique are varied; this time of year throughout the fall will deliver a wide variety of banners across the roadways announcing the apple fest, the pumpkin fest, the fall fest--you name it, there's a fest. Which brings us back to the similarities...people like to congregate and celebrate. They like to eat, drink, and be merry.
And so, doesn't it make you wonder why we're not all better at getting along wherever we go? Yet we tend to practice isolationism in our own corners, thinking that no one else is quite like us. I guess that's true; we all are quite unique--in that we're all alike. So there you are--different yet the same.
Town, city, village...all with their own flavor, yet all the same in purpose. They're home to young and old; those who never want to leave and those who never want to stay. The festivals and events that make each town unique are varied; this time of year throughout the fall will deliver a wide variety of banners across the roadways announcing the apple fest, the pumpkin fest, the fall fest--you name it, there's a fest. Which brings us back to the similarities...people like to congregate and celebrate. They like to eat, drink, and be merry.
And so, doesn't it make you wonder why we're not all better at getting along wherever we go? Yet we tend to practice isolationism in our own corners, thinking that no one else is quite like us. I guess that's true; we all are quite unique--in that we're all alike. So there you are--different yet the same.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Adding a Little Spice to Life
As I was figuring out what to fix Tom for his solo supper tonight, I did what I normally do and checked two items--the meat choices in the freezer and the spice rack. As you can imagine, I'm one of those cooks that has hardly to date met a spice I didn't like in some way, shape, or form. On one of the last trips to the Amish Gourmet grocery, I came across a ginger/sesame spice--that was the one for the chicken dish I was going to prepare.
I guess my spice cabinet is my collection in life. Generally, I'm not much on collecting much of anything; I'm a bit too eclectic for that and can see that it could lead to a collecting nightmare. However, with the spices, it's always an adventure to open the double doors and see three shelves full of various combinations with endless possibilities. There are the tried and true; there are also the exotic that are seldom used. Some are more than likely a bit stale, while others seem to retain their aroma and taste forever.
As I prepared the chicken with the spices, I started thinking about how people are much like the spice cabinet. Some prefer to play it safe and have a small amount of spice in life--certainly nothing wrong with that! Others have that proverbial cabinet brimming and bursting at the seams, but never really use any of that spice--they only have it because they feel for some reason they should. Yet others might have had reason to have that large variety of spice only to now see a cabinet full of tired flavors and vanishing aromas.
No matter where you find yourself in you life's spice cabinet, be sure to take a chance once in awhile and sample a new flavor...that's truly the "spice of life".
Have a fine day.
I guess my spice cabinet is my collection in life. Generally, I'm not much on collecting much of anything; I'm a bit too eclectic for that and can see that it could lead to a collecting nightmare. However, with the spices, it's always an adventure to open the double doors and see three shelves full of various combinations with endless possibilities. There are the tried and true; there are also the exotic that are seldom used. Some are more than likely a bit stale, while others seem to retain their aroma and taste forever.
As I prepared the chicken with the spices, I started thinking about how people are much like the spice cabinet. Some prefer to play it safe and have a small amount of spice in life--certainly nothing wrong with that! Others have that proverbial cabinet brimming and bursting at the seams, but never really use any of that spice--they only have it because they feel for some reason they should. Yet others might have had reason to have that large variety of spice only to now see a cabinet full of tired flavors and vanishing aromas.
No matter where you find yourself in you life's spice cabinet, be sure to take a chance once in awhile and sample a new flavor...that's truly the "spice of life".
Have a fine day.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
It's Nice to Share
Remember being told that "it's nice to share" about a bazillion times when you were little? Remember telling your own off-spring, siblings, neighbors, etc. the same thing about a bazillion times?
I've found myself saying that to various schools all morning; it's an idea that I think might just save a lot of kids from being doomed to failure.
Over the past century, school after school after school has been nurturing people to live and work in isolation. We hide our papers; we don't collaborate on projects because how do we split up the grade; we partition ourselves from one another in the library and learn through reading in silence. Who's idea WAS this?
Earlier today I enjoyed lunch with a delightful table of people who were strangers this morning and are fast becoming vision-sharing friends. The age-old conversation comes up time and again--we don't have money, we don't have resources, we don't have people who want to become involved. I have an idea; let's just solve those problems once and for all and then we don't have to waste valuable time on those wheel spinning perplexities.
We don't have money--so what? We have brains, we have Internet resources, we have high school kids who want to be teachers, we have churches and libraries even in the smallest of towns. All of these resources can be used and it takes very little revenue. We use our brains to think so far outside the box that we can't even FIND the box. We use our Internet resources to network--our kids that live in the country, in the inner city, in the burbs can go virtually and visit with the person that's in the process of climbing Everest, swimming the English Channel, or in the lab discovering the next thing that's going to save the quality of our lives. We give those high school kids that chance to try out their dreams by helping them learn how to tutor kids, and, in turn, giving those little ones the chance to have a positive role model that doesn't come on a Wheaties box resulting in a much more attainable goal for the kiddo someday to return the favor to the next generation. We go into our churches and libraries and barbershops and coffee shops and ask them to post websites for the school, to host community meetings, to share resources and people power.
How did we ever get so far away from such simple solutions? It makes me wonder. Physical isolation doesn't need to mean emotional isolation--we're human--we need one another.
Let's start being community once again.
Have a fine day.
I've found myself saying that to various schools all morning; it's an idea that I think might just save a lot of kids from being doomed to failure.
Over the past century, school after school after school has been nurturing people to live and work in isolation. We hide our papers; we don't collaborate on projects because how do we split up the grade; we partition ourselves from one another in the library and learn through reading in silence. Who's idea WAS this?
Earlier today I enjoyed lunch with a delightful table of people who were strangers this morning and are fast becoming vision-sharing friends. The age-old conversation comes up time and again--we don't have money, we don't have resources, we don't have people who want to become involved. I have an idea; let's just solve those problems once and for all and then we don't have to waste valuable time on those wheel spinning perplexities.
We don't have money--so what? We have brains, we have Internet resources, we have high school kids who want to be teachers, we have churches and libraries even in the smallest of towns. All of these resources can be used and it takes very little revenue. We use our brains to think so far outside the box that we can't even FIND the box. We use our Internet resources to network--our kids that live in the country, in the inner city, in the burbs can go virtually and visit with the person that's in the process of climbing Everest, swimming the English Channel, or in the lab discovering the next thing that's going to save the quality of our lives. We give those high school kids that chance to try out their dreams by helping them learn how to tutor kids, and, in turn, giving those little ones the chance to have a positive role model that doesn't come on a Wheaties box resulting in a much more attainable goal for the kiddo someday to return the favor to the next generation. We go into our churches and libraries and barbershops and coffee shops and ask them to post websites for the school, to host community meetings, to share resources and people power.
How did we ever get so far away from such simple solutions? It makes me wonder. Physical isolation doesn't need to mean emotional isolation--we're human--we need one another.
Let's start being community once again.
Have a fine day.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Something About a Hammock
There's just something about a hammock. They look rather odd, come in all shapes, colors, and sizes, and frankly, can be a bit menacing to the person attempting to climb into it. Nevertheless, once there--the magic happens. No matter how hard you try to read that book, newspaper, or magazine, the hammock has special powers that it will cast over you. Before you know it you're waking up to find that, in the midst of that interesting reading, you've fallen sound asleep. It does it to me every time.
I can remember as a kid that on one Father's Day we bought my dad a hammock. It was one of those canvas pieces with a bit of fringe (never did figure out the utility of the fringe) and some loops that fit onto a metal frame. It didn't matter that it wasn't the prettiest or most handsome of hammocks. It worked. I have a picture of him snoozing away contentedly under a tree on a summer day. The magic of the hammock.
I normally don't get too excited about gifts for most holidays and special days, but one particular Mother's Day several years ago I decided I desperately needed a hammock. A stressful job in a former life lead me to believe that time in a hammock might make life a bit more pleasant. So, the creative duo of husband and son shopped and found a true hammock...huge and magenta and hand knitted by some nice ladies from some far-away island. It came with two posts for holding it--two coconut tree seeds. Needless to say my dynamic duo knew this would never work, so they dismantled the no longer used huge wooden swingset from the back yard, flipped it upside down, added wheels and a handle and I had a hammock frame. (See why I love these guys?)
Over the years I have spent many a wonderful time in the hammock. My now deceased Siamese cat who liked very few things loved lying on my stomach and snoozing away.
And today, as usual, I attempted to read articles of great interest. The process was slowed dramatically when snoozing won out, but the restorative feeling from a good nap in a hammock was well worth the price.
I can remember as a kid that on one Father's Day we bought my dad a hammock. It was one of those canvas pieces with a bit of fringe (never did figure out the utility of the fringe) and some loops that fit onto a metal frame. It didn't matter that it wasn't the prettiest or most handsome of hammocks. It worked. I have a picture of him snoozing away contentedly under a tree on a summer day. The magic of the hammock.
I normally don't get too excited about gifts for most holidays and special days, but one particular Mother's Day several years ago I decided I desperately needed a hammock. A stressful job in a former life lead me to believe that time in a hammock might make life a bit more pleasant. So, the creative duo of husband and son shopped and found a true hammock...huge and magenta and hand knitted by some nice ladies from some far-away island. It came with two posts for holding it--two coconut tree seeds. Needless to say my dynamic duo knew this would never work, so they dismantled the no longer used huge wooden swingset from the back yard, flipped it upside down, added wheels and a handle and I had a hammock frame. (See why I love these guys?)
Over the years I have spent many a wonderful time in the hammock. My now deceased Siamese cat who liked very few things loved lying on my stomach and snoozing away.
And today, as usual, I attempted to read articles of great interest. The process was slowed dramatically when snoozing won out, but the restorative feeling from a good nap in a hammock was well worth the price.
Friday, August 27, 2010
Change--I'm All For It--On My Terms
The past twenty-four hours have been a time of change in my little microcosm. Be aware that nothing earth-shattering in any way, shape, or form has happened--no need to lead you down the wrong path. Nevertheless, it has played with my over-all mood from one of just going about my business to being more edgy. I find that it takes very little "rattling" of one's day in day out to make our bodies react.
To 99% of the population, these "changes" of which I speak are not even noticeable; to the 1% of the population that has developed the lifestyle of contented seclusion with periods of going out and about, you'll understand completely :).
So...the excitement has all centered around cows. Yep--cows. And snapping turtles. And helicopters. Who could not be intrigued by that?
It all started calmly enough with a good friend of ours out looking for snapping turtles; we have a pond, so we happily allowed him to look.
Next came a couple of guys showing up in our hay lot; another occurrence that doesn't necessarily cause alarm since guys come by to check the fields, etc. It's a farmer thing. They got in their truck and left. A bit later, another vehicle showed up and drove down to the pond; this time it seemed a bit off kilter, so Tom walked out onto the deck to find out that they had lost some cattle and were out looking. Once again, our sympathies go to them, but having had cattle at one time ourselves, we know that drill. No cause for alarm.
The change that rattled my little microcosm started this morning. As I walked out onto the deck, oblivious to anything other than grabbing one of the kittens and wiping its ick eye, I hear an engine, look up, and see a vehicle coming up from the pond and into the yard...wasn't ready for that one. So, I spun around, back into the house, and in about 14 seconds made myself "presentable" in case said contents of car stopped. It didn't. At first I thought it was a friend of Turtle Guy. Later I realized this was the Cow Search Car. I settled back into my routine of work.
A bit later I felt a vibration and heard a very loud engine; needless to say, back to the deck I went only to see a helicopter practically touch the top of the shed and drop down even further into a surrounding corn field...wow! My first thought was that it was looking for plants that didn't resemble corn or beans. That happens sometimes when you're surrounded by fields. A bit later, another helicopter--same scenario. Not quite as low this time.
At noon the Cow Search Car returned with a couple of frustrated cow searchers. Sorry--no sign of cows. About 15 minutes later--helicopter buzz again. Not long after that, Turtle Guy.
All this excitement has lead me to believe one thing for sure; perhaps the animal and reptile kingdom are smarter than us--neither of the species have been spotted; and I like change--but on my terms. Otherwise, my cage seemed the only one rattled. I'm guessing the turtles and cows are out there living it up. :)
To 99% of the population, these "changes" of which I speak are not even noticeable; to the 1% of the population that has developed the lifestyle of contented seclusion with periods of going out and about, you'll understand completely :).
So...the excitement has all centered around cows. Yep--cows. And snapping turtles. And helicopters. Who could not be intrigued by that?
It all started calmly enough with a good friend of ours out looking for snapping turtles; we have a pond, so we happily allowed him to look.
Next came a couple of guys showing up in our hay lot; another occurrence that doesn't necessarily cause alarm since guys come by to check the fields, etc. It's a farmer thing. They got in their truck and left. A bit later, another vehicle showed up and drove down to the pond; this time it seemed a bit off kilter, so Tom walked out onto the deck to find out that they had lost some cattle and were out looking. Once again, our sympathies go to them, but having had cattle at one time ourselves, we know that drill. No cause for alarm.
The change that rattled my little microcosm started this morning. As I walked out onto the deck, oblivious to anything other than grabbing one of the kittens and wiping its ick eye, I hear an engine, look up, and see a vehicle coming up from the pond and into the yard...wasn't ready for that one. So, I spun around, back into the house, and in about 14 seconds made myself "presentable" in case said contents of car stopped. It didn't. At first I thought it was a friend of Turtle Guy. Later I realized this was the Cow Search Car. I settled back into my routine of work.
A bit later I felt a vibration and heard a very loud engine; needless to say, back to the deck I went only to see a helicopter practically touch the top of the shed and drop down even further into a surrounding corn field...wow! My first thought was that it was looking for plants that didn't resemble corn or beans. That happens sometimes when you're surrounded by fields. A bit later, another helicopter--same scenario. Not quite as low this time.
At noon the Cow Search Car returned with a couple of frustrated cow searchers. Sorry--no sign of cows. About 15 minutes later--helicopter buzz again. Not long after that, Turtle Guy.
All this excitement has lead me to believe one thing for sure; perhaps the animal and reptile kingdom are smarter than us--neither of the species have been spotted; and I like change--but on my terms. Otherwise, my cage seemed the only one rattled. I'm guessing the turtles and cows are out there living it up. :)
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Where Do We Draw the Line Between Health and Environment?
We live in interesting times. Once "modern" science kicked in, our world kind of went head-strong into eliminating many things that once plagued our health. Miraculous cures for diseases that once riddled and killed all ages of folks were virtually eradicated. And we rejoiced--with good reason.
Spin ahead to 2010--we're now confronted with the evil twin all the "curing"; now we're seeing the environmental costs of cleanliness that keeps many illnesses and general "ick" at bay. As a result,that proverbial pendulum is swinging back with a vengeance. The phosphates that helped keep our dishwasher-washed dishes clean has now been removed; the super-hot water that washed dishes and clothing takes a great deal of energy to provide the heat. And so on...
One particularly disturbing thing is the resurgence of bed bugs...yep, bed bugs. When I first read about this issue last spring, it stuck in my mind. As a moderate visitor of hotels for business and pleasure, it kind of made my skin crawl (no pun intended) to think that my accommodations were, well...infested...yikes!
Just this morning over coffee yet another report is read of the growing spread of these little varmits. Unfortunately, Ohio, Indiana, and Kentucky are beginning to see their share along with the rest of the country; in fact, according to the report, Indianpolis was #12 on the list of most infested hotels--encouraging, eh?
The report goes on to say that the pesky critters are making a resurgence is due to the elimination of past treatments.
I'm sure hoping that all of us will take a futuristic look at this and other similar situations and not just throw our hands up in dismay or go back to our old habits of destroying our surroundings. I have confidence that there's someone in some lab someplace that can figure out the next generation of cures that won't make us choose between giving up our health or giving up our environment. It seems we were put on this earth to thrive on it and with it; not in spite of it. Hope springs eternal! Have a fine day.
Spin ahead to 2010--we're now confronted with the evil twin all the "curing"; now we're seeing the environmental costs of cleanliness that keeps many illnesses and general "ick" at bay. As a result,that proverbial pendulum is swinging back with a vengeance. The phosphates that helped keep our dishwasher-washed dishes clean has now been removed; the super-hot water that washed dishes and clothing takes a great deal of energy to provide the heat. And so on...
One particularly disturbing thing is the resurgence of bed bugs...yep, bed bugs. When I first read about this issue last spring, it stuck in my mind. As a moderate visitor of hotels for business and pleasure, it kind of made my skin crawl (no pun intended) to think that my accommodations were, well...infested...yikes!
Just this morning over coffee yet another report is read of the growing spread of these little varmits. Unfortunately, Ohio, Indiana, and Kentucky are beginning to see their share along with the rest of the country; in fact, according to the report, Indianpolis was #12 on the list of most infested hotels--encouraging, eh?
The report goes on to say that the pesky critters are making a resurgence is due to the elimination of past treatments.
I'm sure hoping that all of us will take a futuristic look at this and other similar situations and not just throw our hands up in dismay or go back to our old habits of destroying our surroundings. I have confidence that there's someone in some lab someplace that can figure out the next generation of cures that won't make us choose between giving up our health or giving up our environment. It seems we were put on this earth to thrive on it and with it; not in spite of it. Hope springs eternal! Have a fine day.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Evolution in Education: Custom Fit
I made it almost through to the month of September before having to write a blog entry on education. I think I could've held off even longer, but I read an excellent article this morning in the Atlantic entitled "The Littlest Schoolhouse" by Ta-Nehisi Coates. I then read an article in The Futurist entitled "Youth At Risk: A New Plan for Saving the World's Most Precious Resource" by Gene Stephens. Both have different approaches on how to get kids back into being active learners; both are excellent. I invite you to read either (or both) the articles; I'm guessing some Googling would bring this to your screens.
To summarize the articles, two things need to be in place for all kids to learn. First you need to make sure that the child's learning style is understood and utilized; we don't all learn the same way. We can't all be taught the same way. It's okay to diversify and let some kids just plop on the headphones and work away at the laptop...they're just wired that way.
Second, we need to have community involvement. Not the type of involvement that sits in judgment of and waits for students to fail; this is the type of involvement that pulls in smart people with futuristic ideas about how kids as adults will be able to be successful in their lives. This takes mentoring, this takes patience, and this takes a sharp learning curve of those involved so they can be helpful. You put all this together and guess what...it works.
We're going to have a tough time helping people get through change on the education front. It's going to be challenging in the least. With added pressures of "making the grade" on a national level, it's going to be sometimes downright frustrating. BUT...it can be done when people think of the future and they think of the individual, not the group.
I see an exciting future...have a fine day.
To summarize the articles, two things need to be in place for all kids to learn. First you need to make sure that the child's learning style is understood and utilized; we don't all learn the same way. We can't all be taught the same way. It's okay to diversify and let some kids just plop on the headphones and work away at the laptop...they're just wired that way.
Second, we need to have community involvement. Not the type of involvement that sits in judgment of and waits for students to fail; this is the type of involvement that pulls in smart people with futuristic ideas about how kids as adults will be able to be successful in their lives. This takes mentoring, this takes patience, and this takes a sharp learning curve of those involved so they can be helpful. You put all this together and guess what...it works.
We're going to have a tough time helping people get through change on the education front. It's going to be challenging in the least. With added pressures of "making the grade" on a national level, it's going to be sometimes downright frustrating. BUT...it can be done when people think of the future and they think of the individual, not the group.
I see an exciting future...have a fine day.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Living Simply: It's Complicated!
I'm a real advocate of living simply and simply living. I think most humans, at heart, are as well. However, the idea of "living simply" has become a more and more complicated process...we're goofy that way.
Henry David Thoreau preached to us to "Simplify, simplify, simplify..." That seems like a great idea. The now ubiquitous "Keep it simple, stupid" has been branded into our brains. So what happened?
We are, as humans, a walking paradox. Talk to anyone and before the conversation is over they will lament about the fact that they would be much happier if their lives were less complicated. Yet, we then turn around and make it MORE complicated. What gives?
It's easy to say that we want to scale back, sit back, and give back all the stress that comes with our frantic lives. But giving things up is not easy for us...not our nature. We like to feel in control, even if it's a microscopic bit of control. Giving up that "immersion" into all the craziness makes us think we'll be missing out on things and the world will pass us by...really?
This year I am following Thoreau's other axiom of "living deliberately" by simplification. It's a wonderful world and simplifying most all things makes it all the better. Come join me in the challenge; "living simply and so others may simply live" (Thoreau) is a fine path to follow.
Henry David Thoreau preached to us to "Simplify, simplify, simplify..." That seems like a great idea. The now ubiquitous "Keep it simple, stupid" has been branded into our brains. So what happened?
We are, as humans, a walking paradox. Talk to anyone and before the conversation is over they will lament about the fact that they would be much happier if their lives were less complicated. Yet, we then turn around and make it MORE complicated. What gives?
It's easy to say that we want to scale back, sit back, and give back all the stress that comes with our frantic lives. But giving things up is not easy for us...not our nature. We like to feel in control, even if it's a microscopic bit of control. Giving up that "immersion" into all the craziness makes us think we'll be missing out on things and the world will pass us by...really?
This year I am following Thoreau's other axiom of "living deliberately" by simplification. It's a wonderful world and simplifying most all things makes it all the better. Come join me in the challenge; "living simply and so others may simply live" (Thoreau) is a fine path to follow.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Taste Buds
I found my mind wandering as I was peeling apples for a pie and, of course, it was wandering around the perimeters of food and human behavior--seemingly two favorite subjects of mine. I was thinking about how my tastes had changed as I got older and how now I DO very much like snails, anchovies, and the like that a few years back I would've never considered even trying. From there my mind wandered to the development of taste buds. Maybe I like these pretty heady flavors now since my buds are a bit more mature, i.e. older. Maybe when I was younger there was just too much taste there to be palatable.
From the point I really began wondering if anyone had ever tracked the developmental patterns of taste buds throughout life; other developmental processes have been tracked (we all know of the love/hate relationships we have with those crazy "what your baby should be doing now" books). Learning applications have been tracked based on the development of the brain...but I wonder if we've done it with taste buds?
Maybe this would once and for all help the age-old dilemma of the school cafeteria lunch battle. If we had a definitive list of categories of tastes that really make a kiddo happy, then we could look at the nutritious and economical foods that would win them over. Just as importantly, let's look at the things that drive them to distraction and not serve those. Hhhhmmm...that sounds almost too simple, doesn't it? Most things are until we get to the over-thinking stage.
I may have to do an extra bit of Googling tonight...now I'm wondering...
have a fine day,
t
From the point I really began wondering if anyone had ever tracked the developmental patterns of taste buds throughout life; other developmental processes have been tracked (we all know of the love/hate relationships we have with those crazy "what your baby should be doing now" books). Learning applications have been tracked based on the development of the brain...but I wonder if we've done it with taste buds?
Maybe this would once and for all help the age-old dilemma of the school cafeteria lunch battle. If we had a definitive list of categories of tastes that really make a kiddo happy, then we could look at the nutritious and economical foods that would win them over. Just as importantly, let's look at the things that drive them to distraction and not serve those. Hhhhmmm...that sounds almost too simple, doesn't it? Most things are until we get to the over-thinking stage.
I may have to do an extra bit of Googling tonight...now I'm wondering...
have a fine day,
t
Friday, August 20, 2010
Politically Correct/ Incorrect??
I guess I'm too much of a mid-westerner to get too excited or too over-wrought about the topic, but does anyone really understand the current status of being politically correct--or incorrect for that matter?
I can remember a time when "correctness" was just another name for "manners"...one didn't say something hurtful in another's presence. We all remember being told by someone that if we couldn't say anything nice about someone, then we weren't to say anything at all. That seemed to do the trick.
Then, someone got the great idea to have to point out every little detail that might aggravate, irritate, or infuriate someone even the slightest. This, in turn, then aggravated, irritated, and infuriated any person who disagreed with any of those details...and the cycle continued.
Then, after this madness went on, someone hashed up the idea that a 180 degree approach was in order, so then "political incorrectness" took center stage. People decided that the way to deal with all issues was to purposely aggravate, irritate, and infuriate everyone--that way no one was left out. Yikes.
So, I have a proposal...let's take a week and just head back to the middle. Let's follow some simple rules that don't take too much effort...how about treating others the way we want to be treated? How about thinking about others first before ourselves? That should do it :).
I can remember a time when "correctness" was just another name for "manners"...one didn't say something hurtful in another's presence. We all remember being told by someone that if we couldn't say anything nice about someone, then we weren't to say anything at all. That seemed to do the trick.
Then, someone got the great idea to have to point out every little detail that might aggravate, irritate, or infuriate someone even the slightest. This, in turn, then aggravated, irritated, and infuriated any person who disagreed with any of those details...and the cycle continued.
Then, after this madness went on, someone hashed up the idea that a 180 degree approach was in order, so then "political incorrectness" took center stage. People decided that the way to deal with all issues was to purposely aggravate, irritate, and infuriate everyone--that way no one was left out. Yikes.
So, I have a proposal...let's take a week and just head back to the middle. Let's follow some simple rules that don't take too much effort...how about treating others the way we want to be treated? How about thinking about others first before ourselves? That should do it :).
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
The Aging of Summer
Since the humidity finally and thankfully died down, I've been on a mission to battle and win the war on tall grass and weeds around the house. It's getting really dry here, so the dust tends to fly along with the grass once the weed whacker starts whirling.
The landscaping is beginning to show signs of aging; the leaves on the plants are starting to turn a more subtle shade of green, the flowers are becoming more muted as well. When I see this I know the inevitable--fall is getting nearer and nearer and with it cooler nights and eventually the first frost that changes our outdoor habits as we start the hibernation process which means, in our terms, less and less time on the deck.
Still, there's something beautiful in these more muted colors. The plants show the passing of time--it is the aging of summer. The flowering bushes aren't as vibrant as they were in June, but after such a hot summer, they are to be admired for their stamina.
We tend to gravitate toward the more obvious beauty in our world, but when you think about it, there's a great deal of beauty in most everything--even if it's weary and withered.
So, as the summer continues to age, I make the time to stroll around the yard an enjoy it in its maturity. It becomes much easier to look at nature not in the light of dissatisfaction that it's no longer the fresh; I can look at is for its richness of having lived its life to the fullest.
I guess we're kind of that way once we hit middle age; we're no longer as brightly colored in our looks or personalities--we mellow, we deepen, we become richer with time and experience.
Enjoy the aging of summer; its a great time of year.
The landscaping is beginning to show signs of aging; the leaves on the plants are starting to turn a more subtle shade of green, the flowers are becoming more muted as well. When I see this I know the inevitable--fall is getting nearer and nearer and with it cooler nights and eventually the first frost that changes our outdoor habits as we start the hibernation process which means, in our terms, less and less time on the deck.
Still, there's something beautiful in these more muted colors. The plants show the passing of time--it is the aging of summer. The flowering bushes aren't as vibrant as they were in June, but after such a hot summer, they are to be admired for their stamina.
We tend to gravitate toward the more obvious beauty in our world, but when you think about it, there's a great deal of beauty in most everything--even if it's weary and withered.
So, as the summer continues to age, I make the time to stroll around the yard an enjoy it in its maturity. It becomes much easier to look at nature not in the light of dissatisfaction that it's no longer the fresh; I can look at is for its richness of having lived its life to the fullest.
I guess we're kind of that way once we hit middle age; we're no longer as brightly colored in our looks or personalities--we mellow, we deepen, we become richer with time and experience.
Enjoy the aging of summer; its a great time of year.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
The Tummy Rub
Greetings from Highbanks...
I started the day with the first cup of coffee out on the deck, a favorite habit of mine. The hummingbirds were up to their usual antics--I think we're up to 8 now. As I watched their performance, one of our middle-sized kittens can running toward me only to remember at the last minute that he didn't do that. He stopped abruptly; his eyes grew wide and he started to back away. Then he did something he'd not done before--he rolled over on his back and looked at me pleadingly to give him a tummy rub. Of course, this didn't happen; he wouldn't allow himself the pleasure. Maybe someday.
As I sat there enjoying the morning air, the coffee, the birds, and the kitten's antics, it occurred to me that we all, for various reasons, disallow ourselves from enjoying life to the fullest. We pause, for whatever reason, from saying hello to an acquaintance, checking in on a friend or relative, or just taking the time to truly enjoy a moment in life. I'm going to start being more mindful of those opportunities...I invite you to do the same. Nobody wants to miss a good proverbial tummy rub!
Have a glorious day.
"Life itself is the proper binge"--Julia Child
I started the day with the first cup of coffee out on the deck, a favorite habit of mine. The hummingbirds were up to their usual antics--I think we're up to 8 now. As I watched their performance, one of our middle-sized kittens can running toward me only to remember at the last minute that he didn't do that. He stopped abruptly; his eyes grew wide and he started to back away. Then he did something he'd not done before--he rolled over on his back and looked at me pleadingly to give him a tummy rub. Of course, this didn't happen; he wouldn't allow himself the pleasure. Maybe someday.
As I sat there enjoying the morning air, the coffee, the birds, and the kitten's antics, it occurred to me that we all, for various reasons, disallow ourselves from enjoying life to the fullest. We pause, for whatever reason, from saying hello to an acquaintance, checking in on a friend or relative, or just taking the time to truly enjoy a moment in life. I'm going to start being more mindful of those opportunities...I invite you to do the same. Nobody wants to miss a good proverbial tummy rub!
Have a glorious day.
"Life itself is the proper binge"--Julia Child
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