The sound of a distant train bellowing it’s horn as it comes near a crossing. Once, then twice. The sound of cicadas busily making their calls. The hot days of summer. Precious.
The 4th of July went deep with me when I was a child. I felt the ingrained sense of "The land that I love." I experienced a vast sense of honor, and a desire to stand "Stand beside her and guide her. Thru the night with a light from above." When our family enjoyed the holiday … Continue reading The Land That I Love
Where this thought came from, I don’t know. A few nights ago I remembered a childhood friend and it dawned on me that I never got to see her grow up. I lost track of her. This is one view of growing up as a child of a father who was enlisted in the US … Continue reading A Military Brat, My Adventure
Sometimes I wonder where we crossed the constant connection line. I remember when my mother had a tan-colored phone that hung on the kitchen wall. It was a rotary dial. There was no answering machine. If people called while you were out, nobody got mad, and nobody got worried. The caller attempted to call at … Continue reading The Good and the Bad of Constant Connections
Diesel and I were secured in the dog park when I heard a little voice squeal with delight, "Look mom, a jumbo puppy!" He did not see a chunky wrinkle-faced bulldog, he saw a jumbo puppy! The tiny boy clung to the chain link fence with intent, with nothing short of delight in his eyes. … Continue reading Living a Mindful Life
It was a breezy summer afternoon. The oak tree branches resembled huge fronds, lifting, swaying and fanning the air below. I watched a father make a wooden swing. He smoothed and sanded the rough edges, and painted the swing soft white. He pulled the knotted yellow rope through the holes that he drilled out and … Continue reading Change in the Pockets, A Smile on the Face
When I was a child we often lived on U.S. Army bases, or in some type of family housing. Populate a neighborhood or a single building with people from differing states, or with those that were born in other nations, and you get the picture of the communities that I grew up in. Despite our … Continue reading We are different, don’t you see?