Sunday, April 22, 2012
Monday, December 12, 2011
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.
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.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Sunday, September 11, 2011
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.
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.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
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!
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.
Update, found a new website on my facebook page. http://www.ifoundyourcamera.net
How about that!
Thursday, August 18, 2011
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