Rising to the Ocassion of Knowing When to Quit

Well, I am back from a long weekend trip to see my lovely niece get married.  Just six short months ago, she was graduating from high school.  (She is growing up fast and making decisions faster.  My mother in law said that her generation had the same challenges of deciding to get married or not during WWII.  But the marriage topic will have to be another blog.)  Another long trip up north.  Both times, I accompanied my parent(s) and my daughter tagged along.  Both times, I wondered how many more Indiana trips there would be.  Not a clear cut answer.

The weather turned  just in time for us to arrive.  At night it dipped to a bitingly cold 11 degrees.  We were fortunate enough not to spend too much time in the windy city canyons of Indianapolis ( beautiful city I might add).  The capital is inspiring and the memorial statute was fabulous.  It looked like a pretty bustling downtown, which is nice to see.  It was clean and very much the northern city structure, with tall houses close together.  I will tell you that Starbucks coffee tastes even better when it is freezing outside!









The trip to Lafayette was pretty with lots of flat plowed fields.  If there is anyone on Mars watching for a sign, I would definitely look to the sights of a plowed Indiana corn field  http://www.in.gov/ .  Even with ice and drifts of light snow, you can see the hours of work spent making perfect rows that will hold nothing but some farmers' future in it.  Crop Reports  Indiana is the farm belt and part of the heart of America you can check out all they grow here:  Farmers Markets




Anyone who has driven a tractor for hours appreciates good rows and quickly judges those that aren't (mine).  The drive to the little town was wonderful with beautiful barns and a bright sun.



I enjoyed looking at it from the car, I am not so sure a long walk would have been fun, given the clothing I brought for a weekend trip up north for a wedding.  The day went on and the wedding started around 5 pm.  It was definitely dark by then up there.  With long roads and no street lights, dark surely means dark.  Best know where to go and don't be to much of a dumb tourist on the long country roads.  The long roads with no cell service and no gas, etc is how people get into trouble up north.

The wedding of course was centered around a beautiful bride and her handsome Army husband.  They will relocate somewhere in Georgia in several months.  Will be interesting to see how the transition to y'all country goes.  I am sure the yes sir and no ma'am will come in handy.  Lucky for us, she will be closer to us and we may get to see her once in a while!


On the way back, I helped to gather the parents and get things organized.  Movement is harder.  The pace is slower.  Minds are less flexible.  Feet seem to like being planted in a firm place with hand rails easily reached.  Bath tub handles are an issue.  Wheelchairs are something to consider, especially on long concourses. Patience seems to be on short supply.   The folks were troopers and went to see their first grandchild marriage.  I sort of hope the rest of them decide to elope to Florida!  It is so much more temperate and welcoming!

Of course there is an undercurrent here.  The knowing when to quit going on long trips that cost a lot in time, money, and effort.  Knowing that the visit is much more difficult for some than others.  Knowing that some are much more comfortable with the trip than others.  There comes a time where you ask yourself if this is fun or contributing to your happiness or the happiness of others.  I can truly say that I felt less of it this trip.  I love my family and want them to be happy.  I want my parents to get to go where ever their little hearts desire.  And so I have to say that if I embark on another trip with them in tow, I want it to be to a comfortable place, that makes them happy, where we all feel welcome and warm.

News From AP | TBO.com

News From AP | TBO.com

You Really Can Go Back: Rising to Meet the Past

I had a whirlwind trip from Tallahassee to Los Angeles Ca this weekend.  In four days I traveled over 6000 miles and 40 years.

I had the wonderful opportunity to travel back to eighth grade and spend time with my best friend from that year.  It was a glorious trip back and even more amazing:  I think she still likes me.

I had a business meeting with a very important client in the area, and after all the work (another column), I caught a train (my first real train ride) from L.A. to Fullerton.  I boarded a train with all walks of life teaming around, business to families, rich and poor, commuters to tourists.  The woman next me had killer shoes of light tan swede, with stacked golden brown heels.  The train attendant came through offering wine and Pepsi and sandwiches.  He looked sort of like a Steward on an airplane.  But the rhythm was all changed.  It was different in that he had to balance side to side, instead of the up and down turbulence on planes.

My seat was leather with the polished look that only hundreds of butts can bring.  I have seen that look in saddles many a time. And I can tell you it is more comfortable than a new seat or a new saddle.  The armrests were wood, and seemed to represent the time when the motto was, "go west young man". The general chat on the train was time: when you get on, when you get off, how long till this stop, how long till boarding. Time, because the train isn't going to wait on you.... I enjoyed the train as any child enjoys the first ocean dip.  I half way expected everyone to know that it was my first real trip on a train.  Thank you Amtrak http://tinyurl.com/5uvsg !
The short ride was over and at the station was my friend, with the same beautiful smile she wore 40 years ago, same gorgeous blue eyes. I was so happy to see her, but just a tad scared. What if she doesn't like me now? Nah, she has to like me, I came all this way!!!!
When I arrived, the little point where you unload and depart is two sided, with the track in the middle.  Unless you know this, you will be on the other side of the track!  Now I know what that means.  Literally, you must go over the tracks, on a metal bridge, to get to the other side.
And there in all her glory of the past, was my best friend from my 13th year.  I have no idea why, but I called her Buh. 
She was as stunning as the day I met her and her blue eyes, still shining, met me with a slightly crinkled smile and a warm welcome.  This will be the fourth time in forty years that we have seen each other.  I would know her anywhere.  Time and life does not dim what the eye has already deemed beautiful in youth.
We drove to her home in Yorba Linda and talked of scenery on the way and where we went to school and where the house is and where I kept my horse. We talked of the neighborhood and the prices of homes and the tenor of the community. And when we arrived at her house (in the same neighborhood where we were friends 40 years ago) we did what old friends do best. We talked, and talked, and talked.
We tried to talk about what made us special, and we don't know.  The tirades of emotional teens with dysfunctional families?  The aloneness we felt together?  The long rides on my horse, bareback in the foothills of Yorba Linda, just talking and talking and talking?  We had one school year together, then I moved to Florida.  3000 miles between us and the US mail.  No cell phones.  No internet. No Facebook or GooglePlus.

No, we had ink, paper, postage and time.  We went on different paths.  She married early and had babies in her twenties.  I went to school and work, had babies in my thirties.  Her babies left, and she went to school and got her PhD.  My babies are about to leave, and I will.... that's another column too.

We had a night together, an evening of chatting, just talking.  You don't really transverse forty years.  But at 54, you know what is important to know.  You know her childrens' names and the number of grandchildren.  You know her husband's work and how it shapes their lives.  You know her grandmother lived to be 106 and she could too.  You know who she voted for, what her main political perspective is and what she wants for her family.

You know too, that though we will never know each other the way we would have if we had lived in the same town, that we still know each other enough.  That she is special and kind, and considerate, and fun.  That she is a great cook, can garden and doesn't want a big house to care for.

You know that you were right back then, she was wonderful then, and she is still wonderful.  I am very lucky.  Very lucky indeed.

rising to the occasion: Follow up to the Camera Story

rising to the occasion: Follow up to the Camera Story: So, I tried in vain to find my camera and instead found someone else's. The camera I found was from the Indianapolis airport, thanks to the...

Follow up to the Camera Story

So, I tried in vain to find my camera and instead found someone else's.  The camera I found was from the Indianapolis airport, thanks to the woman who tried to return the camera to the rightful owner.  It wasn't mine, but fate instead gave me an opportunity to reach out to the horse community and ask for help finding the owner. The surprise is that I found some new folks willing to help, some folks who just told me I was mis-directed and some folks who said I needed to give it up.

All of them lauded my effort to return the camera.  So, to whomever has my camera, enjoy.  The 16gig sd cards will carry you forward for a long while.  The camera is wonderful with a lumix lense.  I am sure that the trainers, Wolfgang, Eugene and Richard will love having a new audience.  The movies that I did not  download that are one the SD's  are my bad and your good fortune.  My daughter is an awesome rider and the videos shall not be reproduced.  Love that they are all in Florida.

I am happy to have a camera, but I have to say that I am sad it is not mine.  It feels like it is not mine.  And the new photos that it has taken of my three kids on the sofa wrestling like ten year olds, are nice but not the same.  It's just not really mine yet.  But I am glad to have a camera.  Glad to have reasons to take pictures, and glad to have a horse world to reach out to when I need advice.

Take care my friends.

Update, found a new website on my facebook page.  http://www.ifoundyourcamera.net

How about that!

and eventing is really fun Mom!

joy of a great ride

ready to ride

Rising to the Occasion of Finding the Horses?

So, last blog, I told you about the graduation and the whirlwind trip to Indiana after my son graduated, rushing to watch my niece graduate.  Somewhere between graduations ( I think), I lost my camera.  Now its not a fancy camera, just a Panasonic Lumix TZ4.  Here is an ebay link to one so you can see what it looks like. http://www.ebay.com/ctg/100135083?_imid=140572129651#

The horse photo is just to get your attention. Keep reading the blog for more information.

I have had it for a long time and it had several SD cards with photos of my daughter riding, horses, family gatherings, videos, etc.  Most of it, probably not so valuable to anyone but me.

I called everywhere.  When I called the civic center http://www.tlccc.org/,  I got a recording and left messages.  No return calls from them.  I called Tallahassee Airport, thinking that perhaps I left it in the screening area and some kind soul turned it in. I have to say that getting someone to help you look for something requires a lot of skill.  Most of those folks have other things to do and did not sound too terribly interested in my plight.  They told me they turn everything over to the Tallahassee Police Department.  More on that later.  Finally, I spoke to one very nice officer who said, yes he does have a Panasonic camera in a black case.  I drive all the way to the airport, stand in security, watch the line of travelers proceed to the pat and chat area.  Soon,  the ever helpful TSA comes to show me the camera.  He lifted it out of the bag and then I saw that it was not mine.  Drat!

While I was there, I stopped to see the lonely Delta Airline baggage claim lady, who genuinely looked happy to see me.
think the Maytag repairman of Delta Airlines.  Surrounded by nondescript black bags (don't those people know the ribbon trick?), she jumped to the file cabinet to search through her 18 inch wide lost and found drawer.  Books, combs, brushes, make up bags, wires that go to whatever, no camera.  On with the search.

Next, I called Tallahassee Police Department and asked speak to the officer in charge of the PROPERTY ROOM.
The PROPERTY ROOM is clearly identified on the TPD website as the place to call.  I have never seen this place, but it must be like a morgue of lost things because the officer sounded as if her first career was in a funeral parlor. Her voice was a little echoy and she said with no hint of emotion whatsoever, there isn't a camera like that here.  And that ended it, there was no more to say. She made that clear. Click and another dead end (no pun intended).

Next is the Enterprise rental car company who refers me to the Airport Security of Indianapolis airport to check.  I get through to the lost and found in the Indianapolis airport and talk to a woman who is as sweet and concerned as the day is long.  She assures me that when she has a relief person on the switchboard, she will go look for my camera.  When I call her back hours later, she says in the softedt, but most professional manner, "Yes, we have Panasonic camera that was turned in on June 4, 2011 AND has horses on it."  The case was gone, but it sounds so close to the description. I asked her to open the little doors and describe the SD Card, but she didn't want to risk damage.  But hallelujah, I have a camera!  It had to be!

I had it shipped second day, laying out the $20 with confidence.  It came in a flat envelope, remarkably undamaged.  I opened it and carefully unwrapped the Indianapolis map that it was folded into, and of course, it isn't mine.  But now is the question. Perhaps an ethical one, perhaps one of fate.

No one claimed this camera.  No one called the Indy airport.  I paid for the shipping.  And I have the camera.  And should I keep it? Maybe, but not without trying to find the owners.

Now here is the CLINCHER!  They ate at a BJ's restaurant http://www.bjsbrewhouse.com/locations and had a party and the restaurants are here in Florida!  Some one in the horse community of Florida can help fine the owners.  This little camera must have flown to Florida and returned to Indy, while mine was flying to Indy maybe.

So, all of you out there, I need your help to identify the horses and the scenery.  Maybe if I can figure this out, fate will send me my camera back!  I want to be careful.  I want to be thourough, but mostly, I don't want those folks to have the same feeling as me.  So pass this to all your horse friends and lets get this back to the owners! Thank you to other sites like

Horses for Sale - - HorseShowCentral provides many FREE ads for sale horses, all breeds. http://www.horseshowcentral.com

http://www.ifoundyourcamera.net

Rising to the Occasion of graduation.....

Wow, what a weekend starting June 3.  Worked till 11:00 a.m. on Friday and had a crowd by 3:30 p.m. gathering to celebrate the youngest son's graduation from high school.  Everyone a flitter and a flutter trying to get ready, see everyone, hug and get in the right photo.  So excited was the youngest of the family to finish, that he almost forgot to go to the stadium for pre-ceremony assembly!

He rushed from the house in white sports socks and black shoes, a polo shirt (school colors), but at least he had the Cap and Gown.  Whew!  Then, trying to get everone out the door in time for the ceremony was a struggle.  Much more fun to stand around and eat and talk in the air condition when you know that it is a 102 degrees outside with humidity to match.  But upward and onward we drove to the  civic center for the last high school graduation of our little nuclear family.  The last assembly, commencement speech, class president memory tour, and the rocking Florida High School orchestra that I will hear for a very long time.  It is fabulous to see the teachers, the enthusiam, the dedication, year after year.  It has to be a profession of love, for who else could go to high school graduation every single year!?!

We arrive at the stadium with five senior citizens all over 70, who do not like climbing bleachers.  There is the hearing problem as in too loud and deafening at the same time.  There is the height problem, the too far to walk problem and the too far away problem.  I assure them all, that the critical thing is their presence.  The fact that they are there, standing to applaud the newest graduate is all that is expected. And it is wonderful.  They struggle though the inconveniences of places planned for young noisy crowds, to celebrate the members of the young noisy crowd.  And though they cannot wait to leave the stadium, they stay till the end, and applaud with enthusiasm.  They truly rise to the occasion of the event.

My son, young and eager to be finished, is celebrating the change of the tassel from right to left.  He is running around with the other now non-students, the soon to be soldiers and the one that got into med school early.  He is ecstatic about his future, going to the community college (this one doesn't want to leave home) and then to FSU.  He is my quiet one and probably the most reliable.

Soon after, my father and daughter and I left the house to jump on a plane to Indiana.  My sister's oldest graduated Sunday.  We flew and drove all day Saturday; the small town of Benton is not near an airport. They do have incredible wind farms. The vast fields of corn and soy were beautiful and reminded me I have no idea how to plow so well, such straight and perfect looking lines.  Indiana, where basketball is a way of life like farming.  Where boys in jeans with boots really work on a farm and drive tractors and trucks before they get licenses.  Where swimming pools are in-doors and buildings have sharp pitched roofs to deflect the snow.

We arrived in time to go to Lowes and buy the gifts every girl needs: a drill, a hammer, tape measure, picture hanging stuff, and of course a bunch of screwdrivers.  We loaded the tools into a trashcan and wrapped it with a new welcome mat.  It was quite different than the prettily wrapped packages of cooking wares and bed spreads.

The event was at the high school gym and the air condition was on full bore, freezing us in the nose bleed section.  The people were excited and anxious about their child approaching the stage, as each set of photographers rushed to the front to snap the action shot of their loved one.

Our beautiful neice, grandaughter and cousin was all smiles as she debuted a graduate, an independent a young woman ready for the experiment of life.  She was as lovely as she could be, all smiles and hope.  She is the promise of the future, and I look at her and my son and think they will rule the show one day soon.  My generation will gracefully or not so gracefully,  choose to move over and let the young cell phone, laptop, android, ipad, 4g generation have the reins.  And I wish them the best, and know that they will do fine and lead the next set of graduates to the platforms that mark our lives.

And I already am planning for my trips up the bleachers, to attend the ceremonies that I can't hear, can't really see, but will joyously celebrate, as others have theirs.  Good luck class of 2011.

Rising to the Occassion Texas Style

This past month, I had the opportunity to visit Texas.  With the exception of passing through to change planes, I had not been there since I was a kid.  So visiting Austin, Texas was quite an experience.

First off, Austin is not what one thinks of when you say Texas.  Very few cowboy hats.  But there were boots.  Lots of boots, but more on the boots later.

The first day, I had flown all day from Tallahassee to Austin.  That means going through Atlanta airport.  The longest, never change planes on the same concourse, ever, airport in the U.S.  Ride the train, wait to get off, ride the escalator, ride the elevator.  The only thing they didn't make you ride was a horse (that could at least be fun).  Then off to the skies to Austin.

After sitting endlessly through the "cattle car" section, I arrived at the Austin airport.  It was a genuine Texas welcome, with a towering guitar.  Showing my ignorance, I asked about the guitar.  Who knew that Austin was famous for music?  Okay, who in Tallahassee knew Austin was famous for music?  The guitars are everywhere.  Huge colorful guitars for varying corners with much appreciated color and meaning.  Also, a very convenient way of navigating the city.  This is particularly true for the direction challenged.

My traveling companion wanted to head to the hotel, so after checking in, I went walking to discover the lay of the land.  It was fairly straight forward and grid like, so all I needed to remember was Congress Avenue, and the numbered streets.  All the other streets are named after rivers.  That single piece of information made the walking pleasant. Once I had oriented, it was back to the hotel to make the plan for sight seeing after attending training at the huge civic center across from our hotel.

The second evening, it was a walker's paradise.  We strolled west along fourth, made it over the bridge, then turned and went toward the park.  We had heard about the bat colony: http://www.austin360.com/search/content/events/special/bats.html  It is alleged to be the biggest in urban America, but you will have to do your own research.. Though we made it to the Lamar Street Bridge and crossed over to watch.  No bats emerged where we could see, so we went back down to hike Lady Bird Lake Trail.  It was filled with people walking, jogging, running and showing their pets the outdoors.  It was lovely and laced with Texas Flowers: the bluebonnet http://www.50states.com/flower/texas.htm

They are some kind of blue and very spicey to look at.  They decorate the hillside where the lake is and make the landscape a vast canvas of color.  We continued the hike, but came to the detour site, that said the roads were closed and so was Congress Ave.  An art show was in progress of dismantling.  We missed the show, but it must have been fabulous because the streets were packed with semi trucks and porta potty vehicles.  We had to climb the hill and slip through a fence to avoid another long walk.  I personally would have kept going, but my sidekick was starting to fade on me.  She kept muttering about a coldbeer.  Coldbeer is one word for her.  And apparently, not just her.

We emerged at congress and started the long hike back.  We decided to stop at Frank's for a coldbeer and a ginger beer.  http://hotdogscoldbeer.com/  Frank's is a pretty cool place, that looks like a grocery store, but inside is a bar, restaurant, coffee shop and music hall.  We had the privelege of listening to Ava.  The photos almost can let you hear her soft melodious voice belting out crooner music.  Check her out! http://www.avaarenella.com/#!music

After that we strolled back tot he hotel.  A bit refreshed (where my sidekick decided a pizza was in order).

The next day we had time to slip out for lunch at the Driskill.  If you have never been, it is quite lovely with a story behind every pillar and room.  It was breathtaking and truly awesome when you see it  for the first time.  I can see why LBJ took Ladybird there for dates.  Quite impressive.  http://www.driskillhotel.com/

Lunch was divine and all of us had our fill.  They have the most incredible burger that you have ever had.  Amazing.  Bacon, egg, cheese, hashbrown, burgehttp://www.austinducks.com/r, bun, just oozing with caloric goodness.  It is huge too.  What a fabulous walk back to the convention center after such a lunch!

No tour would be complete without a tour with the "Ducks".  Ausitn Ducks tour http://www.austinducks.com/  took us on the river, by the capital and past the UT campus.  It was great weather and lots of fun.  Our guide was a part time tour leader who full times as a firefighter.  Handsome, fun and brave in one package!

I will visit Ausitn again, with better walking shoes (did I mention walking with my broken foot boot on?).  I really appreciate the sights, the friendly residents and the lovely atmosphere.  I wish my daughter had been in Stubbs barbeque and I wish that my sons could have heard the music.  Maybe I can put Austin on their to do lists for the future.

BTW I am not sure why, but Austin just makes you feel more beautiful and alive.

The Herb Garden Occasion

Sometimes a day just works out.  I didn't have a real plan, just wanted to see the family.  Just wanted to enjoy the beautiful spring.  But today, worked better than I could have imagined.  I spent the day with some of the people I love.  I spent the day at the farm, a place I love.  Then we had a small adventure to the herb farm.  What a fabulous place to walk and look and learn.

My father wanted to get a few herbs for his garden and I wanted to see the choices.  What a fabulous choice of plants.  Some even medicinal.  Today I learned about Comfrey: One of the country names for comfrey was ‘knitbone’, a reminder of its traditional use in healing bone fractures. Modern science confirms that comfrey can influence the course of bone ailments.  And of course, I have broken toes and an ailing foot.  How timely.

The sunny day, the cool breezes, the fun environment all contributed to a great day.  My purchases were: a columbine, a clematis, basil, oregano, thyme and comfrey.  I loved this occasion and can't wait till my next visit.

O'Toole's Herb Farm Greenhouse

Lots of oregano, parsley and basil.

Thyme Began in a Garden

Pay and then take it all home.  Tomorrow is a garden day!

http://www.otoolesherbfarm.com/