Taking a Break

The suitcase is filling up with t-shirts and shorts as we prepare to drive south 1.300 miles back into summer. The next days and weeks will be focused on our new grandchild (due to be born a week from tomorrow) and her parents and three sisters (age 6 and under).  And so, it seems a good time to take a leave of absence from the blog.

Why do I blog? I come here to relax.  It’s a form of therapy, sort of like internal free-falling.  Various thoughts drift without hindrance, until eventually one dominates.  Creative juices flow, and the rest is automatic pilot.  Get it down, put it behind, and go on to the next day.  No room for obsession.

I identify something about a given day, or some introspection that hit me during the day, and record it.  Therefore, topics can vary widely. Several people have mentioned the disjointed nature of my posts being challenging to read (admittedly, readership has not been my first concern, but I still have a responsibility), which has prompted me to think about starting another blog with a more focused theme.  Also, I keep putting off the long-term effort needed to see a couple of sketchy manuscripts through to publication – a nagging (but encouraging) finger tapping on my shoulder.

The next few weeks will be a good time to think about my writing future - if, when, what, and how I’m going to write.

A Series of Changes

A friend's new Caring Bridge site opened today with a quote from the discerning family patriarch: “Life is a series of changes.” His father evidently had a way of anchoring the entire family with this reminder in the midst of the inevitable “bends in the river of life." Now our friend has been diagnosed with cancer, alias “the beast.” And yet the author of the post, the cancer patient’s son, clarifies by saying, “…as with everything in life, context can change the meaning.”

I thought about this family while watching foam-speckled waves toss restlessly on the lake beyond my window - white froth like lather on hard-working horses.

Driven by conflicting gusts panting with confrontation and change, the waves butted heads with emotional sidesteps and body slams while generally heading in the same direction. Seasonally changing foliage on the opposite shore stood as a colorful backdrop to the drama, suggesting an element of variation in the midst of consistency – as when the view around that bend in the river of life becomes quite different than before, and yet there is still a measure of familiarity.  The journey's dynamics become a marathon of hope, while the ultimate destination remains the same.

Emerald Ash Borer

Ash trees along our road are dead or dying, having been attacked by the emerald ash borer that entered North America in 2002.  Evidently the borer originated in eastern Russia, northern China, Japan, and/or Korea, and arrived here in shipping materials. The little half-inch boring insect destroys tissues beneath the bark that transmit water and nutrients; most leaves are dead within two years of the onset of symptoms.

Tree removal services took out quite a few ash trees in our neighborhood during the summer months.  Others still stand naked, some with a blue “x” denoting, I assume, that they’re the next to come down. 

I grew up inspired by trees, particularly oaks, maples, and sycamores.  Trees have personalities; they’re alive. They're relational.  Practically speaking, they also produce oxygen and reduce pollution, and provide food and homes for animals as well glorious shade for those beneath their canopy.

Our giant oak, seemingly healthy, resembles a nearby dead ash in size.  May our tree continue to thrive, to feed the squirrels and deer with its acorns and shelter us from the summer sun.

Veggie Jingles

We’re big vegetable people around here, addicted to vegetarian omelets, spinach and kale salads, and ginger/garlic stir-fries made with everything in the crisper drawer, please. Sadly, I’ve never seen a cute ad or jingle to entice consumers to get serious about vegetables. I guess we could take some old ones and re-write them, eh?  If you've lived long enough, I know you’ll remember the songs to some of these. I know.  You will.

Double your pleasure, double your fun, with vegetables, vegetables, vegetables! (Doublemint Gum)

Vegetables, they do a body good. (Milk)

What would you do for a vegetable?  (Klondike Bar)

Vegetables - the San Francisco treat!  (Rice a Roni)

Uh-oh, vegetables! (Spaghetti-o’s)

Vegetables, always the real thing.  (Coke)

I feel like vegetables tonight! (Chicken Delight by Ragu)

Oh I’d love to be a vegetable, that is what I’d really like to beeee, cause if I were a vegetable, everyone would be in love with me! (Oscar Mayer weiners)

* * *

Question of the Day: Why was the guy surprised when he saw a woman celebrating Vegetarian Day?

Answer: He’d never seen herbivore.

End of Season News

We’re die-hard-do-it-yourselfers known for “doing everything the hard way,” which also translates into the cheapest way.  For example, instead of building a garage or renting space in a storage barn to keep our boats under cover during the winter, we’re known to leave the boats outside in the elements and brave sub-zero temperatures to rescue collapsed covers burdened with heavy loads of ice and snow. This is proof, I suppose, of prudent resourcefulness and stalwart commitment when you’re young and vigorous.  When you’re old, it’s insanity.

I’m pleased to report we’ve turned a new page this year.  After all, now we’re officially seniors, both having crossed the pivotal 65-year mark. 

Today we hired two young men to shrink-wrap the pontoon boat and ski boat to reduce chances for collapse caused by ice and snow.  They threw heavy plastic sheets over each boat, and tied them with rope at the base.  Then the skilled shrink-wrapper (torch thrower with a dragon-breathing hair dryer) walked the perimeters and heated the plastic with a flame until it shrank, sealing both boats under canopies of taught white skin.

When the shrink-wrapping was finished, Grampa proclaimed, “I think I’ll go fishing.” 

“Without a boat?” I asked, shaking my head since all our power boats are now high and dry. 

“I’ll take a kayak.”

He kept six nice-sized perch in a bucket in the back – possibly the final catch of the season that we'll enjoy for dinner tomorrow.  Evidently he also hooked several bass that dragged him through the water, an unexpected joy ride for the innovative fisherman.