So close I can almost smell the green tomatoes frying! I have buds on my tomato plants!!!! It won’t be long now before I will be living out of my garden. The peas are about ready to be picked. Hopefully tomorrow I will be able to recruit my grandson to help pick.
I have printed out my re-enrollment form for the Energy sustainability policy degree I’m thinking about. I’m back and forth on this. I don’t know if I want to commit. Why? I’m thinking about how much I’ve learned from the blogs I’ve read and other internet sources. I have zero aspiration of doing anything more career-wise. I’m not going to look for a different job. So maybe my current strategy for learning – just seeking answers from the sources—should remain my strategy. I’m looking at how I want my life to have some influence. I’m trying to sort things out a bit.
Today when I was running (well, plodding—today I definitely did not feel light on my feet), I was thinking about how I associate certain seasons/times/areas with moments in my early life. Today as I was running along the cow field, I thought to myself that it was a Fred Herring kind of day. Now Fred was a neighbor to us when we lived up on the hill. He had a nice farm down below. He had a wife – who every time I think of blue gingham – I think of her. He had several kids – my best friend was Mike. I moved from the hill when I was in second grade and never saw Mike again. I remember staying with them when I was little and playing in this awesome sandbox with a roof. I remember when Mike’s grandpa built this amazing tree house out in the cow pasture. It had steps instead of a ladder, a door that opened, windows with shutters, and a real table inside. I remember it being nicer than any house I’ve lived in as an adult.
I remember playing in Mike’s living room games like Candyland, Shoots and Ladders, Hi-Ho Cherry-O. I remember that they had a really long bathroom, a nice little alcove in which was placed the breakfast table. I loved it there.
I’ve driven past their place several times and what a difference a lifetime makes! At one point, I drove past and the tree house had fallen to the ground. More recently, the treehouse was gone altogether. I never did see the sandbox again. The whole place just looks like a regular old kind of rundown farm. Definitely no resemblance to the magical place I remember.
I often wish that I could have just 24 hours just to go back and experience being a kid again. Twenty-four hours to breathe in the clean air, listen to the birds, climb in the trees, ride the tire swing, find the Sunfish pond, look for the snakes that would wiggle around the little creek. I’d love to walk up the old sledding hill and see if it really is as steep as I remember. I’d like to walk down to our old neighbor’s pond and see the huge fish they had.
I have printed out my re-enrollment form for the Energy sustainability policy degree I’m thinking about. I’m back and forth on this. I don’t know if I want to commit. Why? I’m thinking about how much I’ve learned from the blogs I’ve read and other internet sources. I have zero aspiration of doing anything more career-wise. I’m not going to look for a different job. So maybe my current strategy for learning – just seeking answers from the sources—should remain my strategy. I’m looking at how I want my life to have some influence. I’m trying to sort things out a bit.
This blogger, Patty, writes a blog that is especially meaningful to me today - MorningRamble. Many times I go for a run after reading Patty's blog and 9 times out of 10, her blog has lead me to some meaningful soulsearching. For instance:
Today when I was running (well, plodding—today I definitely did not feel light on my feet), I was thinking about how I associate certain seasons/times/areas with moments in my early life. Today as I was running along the cow field, I thought to myself that it was a Fred Herring kind of day. Now Fred was a neighbor to us when we lived up on the hill. He had a nice farm down below. He had a wife – who every time I think of blue gingham – I think of her. He had several kids – my best friend was Mike. I moved from the hill when I was in second grade and never saw Mike again. I remember staying with them when I was little and playing in this awesome sandbox with a roof. I remember when Mike’s grandpa built this amazing tree house out in the cow pasture. It had steps instead of a ladder, a door that opened, windows with shutters, and a real table inside. I remember it being nicer than any house I’ve lived in as an adult.
I remember playing in Mike’s living room games like Candyland, Shoots and Ladders, Hi-Ho Cherry-O. I remember that they had a really long bathroom, a nice little alcove in which was placed the breakfast table. I loved it there.
I’ve driven past their place several times and what a difference a lifetime makes! At one point, I drove past and the tree house had fallen to the ground. More recently, the treehouse was gone altogether. I never did see the sandbox again. The whole place just looks like a regular old kind of rundown farm. Definitely no resemblance to the magical place I remember.
I often wish that I could have just 24 hours just to go back and experience being a kid again. Twenty-four hours to breathe in the clean air, listen to the birds, climb in the trees, ride the tire swing, find the Sunfish pond, look for the snakes that would wiggle around the little creek. I’d love to walk up the old sledding hill and see if it really is as steep as I remember. I’d like to walk down to our old neighbor’s pond and see the huge fish they had.
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