Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Simplicity

Simplicity.

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Of late I have become intrigued with this word and the possibilities it holds.

A simple life,

a life simply lived.

Tossing chaos and clutter out,

Throwing open the door to what is important.

While I am not prepared to give away all of my belongings and live out my days in a cabin in the woods, I have to admit the concept is intriguing.

We live in a world where consumerism is preached like the gospel,

and everything is disposable.

Maybe it's time to take a step back.

Rethink our options.

A simple life.

A life simply lived.

I like the way that sounds.

















Monday, July 28, 2014

Bubba



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June 21, 1918 - July 19, 2014

Last week we said good-bye to our beloved Bubba.  

Simply put she was a great lady whose life of service to others reached far beyond the bounds of her large and growing family. 

She was a believer in the virtue of volunteerism.  The hours she logged at the local office of the Red Cross and community hospital auxiliary are a testament to that fact.  She was awarded Volunteer of the Year by both organizations.  

Recently we came across the smock she wore while working at the hospital.  The pin that was attached to the breast had been awarded for 4,500 hours.  Can you imagine?  4,500 volunteer hours logged in for one organization and that is only the half of it.  We have no idea how many hours she served at the Red Cross which was her organization of choice.  A life of service indeed.

What I will remember most about Bubba is her zest for life.  She lived each day to the fullest and was always up for anything.  She played on a softball team in her sixties, went boogie boarding at the beach in her 70's, jet skiing in her 80s.  And as the 60 plus members of her family gathered on Saturday the stories began to unfold.  They were many and varied and all told with a laugh, a smile and whole lot of love.  A true testament to the woman she was.

I never her knew her to be sad or depressed.  Life was too short for that.  

She will be missed...always.

Thursday, July 17, 2014

Six Days

Six days.
They were here for six days.
Alone.
Without their parents.

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They explored the little creek, on the hunt for minnows and crayfish.

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Painted clay pots rescued from the recycling dumpster last summer.

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Climbed aboard "The Cubbie" (before it died....again) with Pappy.

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Had a squirt gun battle with Grammy.

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Walked Miss Henna.

On the morning of day two the kiddos awoke to a big surprise sleeping in the guest room.  Uncle Chris had arrived.  Squeels and shrieks of "Uncle Chris is here, Uncle Chris is here" followed and Uncle Chris' peaceful morning came to an abrupt halt.

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Spent the 4th of July with their cousins.

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Uncle Chris spent time with his cousins too.

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Tried their hand at fishing.

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Watched the eagles enjoy a feast on the lake shore.

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Had her first solo voyage in the kayak.

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Fished some more.

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More cousin time.

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Checked the minnow trap...daily.  Okay, several times a day.

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Sat around the camp fire.

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Kayaked with Grammy.

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Posed with great-grandma Gram.

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Cheesed it up with Pappy.

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Toasted marshmallows.  Again and again and again.

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Reeled in the big one.

Refilled the hummingbird feeders & learned how to make the nector.
Watered the flowers.

Stayed up way past bedtime, every night.

Jumped in the lake,

Watched fireworks from the boat.
Fell asleep on the way home.

Six days.

Six days alone with Pappy and Grammy,
without their parents.

It went by in a flash.

But the memories will last a lifetime.


Monday, July 14, 2014

Walking

I have been reading a lot this summer.
Doing it the old fashioned way,
with a book in my hand,
and pages that turn.

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I have been reading a lot about walking.
Something I have done very little of in the past month.
It seems I have an as yet undiagnosed condition in my right foot that is very painful and has gone from bad to worse.
There is a doctor in my future.
Soon.

One of the walking books is fiction.
A series of five.
It is about a man walking from Seattle to Key West.

The other is non fiction.
A single volume.
About a young woman who sets out to walk the Pacific Crest Trail
from the Mojave Desert in CA to the Oregon/Washington border.
Alone.

In both cases the walking is cathartic.
Initiated to deal with the pain of a loss so great it has left the characters incapacitated by grief.
And so they walk.

I can't imagine such pain.

I don't want to imagine such pain.

And yet I too want to walk,
even if it is just four miles every morning in the company of my peeps.
Because when I put one foot in front of the other and push myself to move forward
I know I am alive and well
and capable.

And besides, I miss all that girl talk.

The Walk Series by Richard Evans
Wild by Cheryl Strayed


Friday, July 11, 2014

Missing Home


We have been on the road for a few days, and while I am loving our visits with family and good friends I am missing Little Red.

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I am missing:
  • sleeping with the windows open
  • awakening to the sound of the birds
  • early morning walks
  • the geese 
  • the flighty humming birds zipping in and out drinking up the sweet nector
  • sunsets over the lake
  • the quiet
always the quiet.

Wednesday, July 9, 2014

Over-Nighten in the Burgh

In what appears to be developing into a summer tradition The Kid and I made a baseball pilgrimage to the Steel City, aka "The Burgh."   We scored a great rate for a downtown hotel room within a 3 block walk of the Clemente Bridge and overlooking Point State Park where the Monongahela and the Allegheny Rivers come together to form the Ohio.

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We explored the park, the Fort Pitt museum and Block House.

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Took in a ball game.

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Our Buccos weren't on their game that night and we were sent scurrying back across the bridge in a failed attempt to out run a late evening thunder storm.

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The next day there was more baseball.

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(Let's go Cutch.}

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Hey...where did they come from?  I think they are following me.

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The great and wonderful JHay...the best story in Major League Baseball this season.

Some fantastic Greek food.

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An extra inning victory and a last view of our hotel before heading home.

I can report that a great time was had by all.