Dear Sports

This letter is to inform you, in whatever shape or form you find yourself....  It could be football.  Basketball.  Volleyball.  Softball.  Tennis.  Golf.  Soccer.  Hockey.  Baseball.  Lacrosse.  Ping Pong. Racing.  Pickle Ball, or even a rousing game of Croquet, that we need to have a serious conversation.  

First, I suppose, I should tell you a little bit about myself.  I am most definitely not your enemy, adversary or even anyone you would need to worry about.  In fact, when it comes to sports, I have little interest.  Why that is, is still a mystery, as I came from and am surrounded by, a very sports minded family.  It would be safe to say that playing fetch with Runtly, the ever so entertaining Jack Russell Terrier, is about as sportsy as I get.  So, just to be clear, you have no threat from me and certainly no competition.  

I would like to explain something to you that I feel you have forgotten.  Something that should be at the very heart of your existence.  Indeed, without it, you would most likely cease to be.  That 'something' is the people.  All the people who flock to you.  These people come to you for a variety of reasons.  Some folks just need to be entertained.  Some come for the love of whatever form tends to be their favorite.  To others, competition is the name of the game, regardless the form.  To many, your are a bastion of comradery.  A place where like minded individuals gather together and for a moment in time, the game is all that matters.  During these times, memories are made, friendships are bonded and skills are improved.  

Sports, you are also a safe haven for many.  Some young people would have had a much tougher time in life, had it not been for you.  Sometimes the mere mention of an upcoming game can be the difference between a passing grade on a classroom assignment, or a failing grade for someone who had nothing to look forward to.  You have helped people to understand the "thrill of the victory and the agony of defeat".  Yes, unfortunately, there are those who never quite grasped the meaning of that phrase, their entire life, but for others, it was their turning point.  It showed them they could get up, brush the dust off, realize the world did not end and practice makes perfect.  You have taught people discipline that will last them a lifetime.  See, Sports, even though I don't have a lot of interest in you, millions of others do.  They need you.  To many, you are a beacon in the storm.

The storm is why I'm writing to you.  Times are crazy right now.  Folks are confused, scared, angry and sad, all at the same time.  They need an outlet.  An outlet that you provide, if only for a little while, that takes their minds off the troubles of our times.  With that said, Sports, this is my message for you.  Stay. Out. Of. Politics. And all the screwed up messages they blab all the time.  You are not part of it, so leave it be.  Stick to what you are good at.  If you have forgotten what you are good at, please refer to the first paragraph.  You should be able to find yourself in the list. 

Sincerely,

One who is not sports minded, but loves a lot of folks who are.

Autumn

 It was a perfect autumn day.  Typical of the Midwest, even for mid October.  The sun was shining and a slight breeze came in from the south west.  The temperature had been reaching into the low 80's for a couple of days, but that was not totally unusual. The colors, though not quite at their peak, were amazing.  Deep burgundy, bright crisp orange and a yellow that seemed to glow when the rays of the sun kissed them, ever so lightly.  Even the white pine, towering at nearly 90 feet, was full of yellow needles.  A thought passed through quietly, was that normal, for the pine and would they all fall off at the same time.

The leaves were falling too.  Lots of leaves.  The circle, inside of the driveway, where 14 trees of varying species have staked their claim, was ankle deep in leaves.  The goal was to get all those leaves into a pile, on the circle drive.  The procedure would be simple.  Simply start in the middle and work to the outer edge.  It went like clock work.  Thirty minutes later, the driveway had a full circle of leaves.  Ah, the magic of a gas powered leaf blower.

The rest of the yard waited its turn.  The 14 trees were not alone, another 46 stood, like gentle giants, throughout the yard.  The ones next to the road were kind.  Most of their leaves blew down the road or across the small gully into the woodlands.  But, the remaining trees were doing their best to keep up with the ones inside of the circle.  They stand protected from the wind, as they are surrounded by their many relatives that make up the border of the yard.  Most of their leaves fall directly under their assigned tree.  With the power of artificial wind, they joined their family in the forest.

The best of the day was nearing.  The time of the long shadows and encroaching darkness.  The culmination of the original plan.  It was time to start.  Perhaps it would turn into a yearly ritual.  It had to be done in darkness.  Darkness was the only time the wind was still.  The lighting of the 'Ring Of Fire' commenced.  It did not disappoint.  The glow lit up the neighbors' garage like a Jack O' Lantern on steroids.  Lucky for them, they had been told of the plan.  The circle of fire was perfect.  Something about it was, oh, so satisfying.  Mother would be proud, she loved to burn things.  On occasion, some things burned that were not part of her plan.  Yes.  Lois would approve of the 'Ring Of Fire'.

As quickly as it had happened, it was over.  Only a few embers remained.  A quick swirl with a rake, a real rake with a wooden handle, took care of the embers' glow and the first ceremony had come to an end.  Perfect ending to a perfect day.

The next day, the weather took a turn.  Just as typical of the Midwest.  Rain brewed in from the west.  As quickly as that happened, the wind shifted and with a fury, blew in from the north.  It was raining.  Raining leaves.  Again.  Yes, all the needles fell off at one time.  The white pine is once again green.

Bits & Pieces

 Soft elevator music plays in the background.  My husband is on hold with a government entity.  The wait time is nearly an hour......the music is bad.  Technology keeps taking us to new levels of not having to speak face to face, or ear to ear in this particular scenario, with another human being.  All this pain and agony, just to get a new driver's license.  Unfortunately, this battle may be a long one.  Word to the wise:  Never change the information on above mentioned document.....especially ones' weight.

Being thankful for everything that happens in a person's life is a hard pill to swallow.  Humans like to blame someone else for their misery.  Maybe that is what separates us from the divine.  It would be a charmed life to have never made any bad decisions, but perhaps a bit boring.  That comes from someone who has rarely been inside of the box, or lines.  There are surely many people who have made right decisions, for themselves and are perfectly content with the results of those actions.  One thing for sure though, if there have been consequences for the wrong decisions and a person learned from those consequences, the knowledge and wisdom gained is priceless.  In that respect, being thankful for all the things that have happened is another way to look at how all those choices have brought us to this point in time.

Speaking of time.  How much is left.  According to one of the Psalms, our days are numbered.  Let's say we all have 100 years to be here on the spinning rock.  The next time an argument arises, about anything under the sun, ask if in 100 years, will anyone care?  It gives another perspective, or angle, to visually see if the argument is worth the precious time we've been allotted.  It is easy to lose track of time.  Some people are way past the half way point.  Have they accomplished the things they wanted to achieve in this lifetime?  If not, it might be time to not worry about what someone else thinks and follow ones' heart.  We spend the first quarter, or so, of our lives, wanting to be older and the rest wishing we were not. Living in the "now" would be a good rule to follow, because it's actually the only time we have.  The bad music is still playing in the background.  Probably not a good time to bring up 'living in the moment'.

Back to consequences.  Recently, a parent made the statement that they had rewarded their child for causing their neighbors grief, defacing public property and disagreeing with their, the neighbors', choice of politics.  Having no respect for that pesky first amendment, which entitles folks to their own opinion, without retaliation, as long as they are not axe murderers and such, is an odd way to raise a child.  Usually does not end well.

After being their own boss for years, someone went back to work.  There was a reason for doing so that had nothing to do with money. They simply wanted to manage their time better (there's that time thing again) and figured with someone else managing part their time, they would get more accomplished.  They chose an occupation of their youth.  Something they had enjoyed, perhaps more than any other.  Youth is the key word.  They applied and got the job of working in a fast pace bar & grill kitchen.  The owners asked if this person had been drinking, while making the decision to apply for the position.  The person had not.....but perhaps the person should have been.

Leaves are falling.  Another season coming to fruition, while the last one wanes.  Long shadows and darkness lie ahead.  Still the same 24 hours in a day, but darkness is always a good excuse to turn in early.  Like a bear, during the winter.  The clock is still ticking......closer to 100.  

The music stopped, the information received took about 1 minute.  What a waste.  55 minutes that he will never get back.

From The Desk of The Dog: I Be In Trouble.....Again

Hello everyone!  It's me, Runtly, the ever so entertaining Jack Russell Terrier!  JRT for short!  I'm writing to you from a place of deep ponderment.  Mom says that is not a word and I should have titled my piece, Whoa Is Me.  Mom is mean.

I don't know what is going on, but I seem to be in constant trouble.  I have to wear my buzzing collar every time I go outside.  I can't help it that I'm just a curious doggy soul.  Plus, I'm brave and ferocious.  Just the other day, while I was out in the middle of the road, a giant truck came down the road.  I showed it who the boss was and stood my ground.  It had to come to a complete stop and I barked it up good!  Mom was behind me the whole time and every time she got too close, I ran a little farther ahead.  Hey! I had to protect Mom!  She was in the middle of the road!  Mom was not too happy about my bravery and as I let the truck pass, Mom had to apologize to the driver and the driver wished her good luck.

I have two friends, Max and Thor.  They are really big dogs, German Shepherds.  I like Max, he is my bestest buddy, but I don't like Thor.  He steals my toys.  They live next door and every time I go over there, I find one of my toys and I have to bring it back home.  When Thor comes over, which is every stinking day, I have to constantly remind him that I be the boss of this yard.  I show him my teeth and if that doesn't work, I throw in a growl.  Thor likes to chase me too.  Mom says Thor thinks I am a white rabbit.  How insulting!  He is getting faster, but I can still out maneuver him.  My zag is quicker than his zip.  Mom has a big water bowl outside just for us dogs.  I don't drink out of it much, but Max and Thor drink it dry about everyday.  The other day, Mom was filling the bowl because Thor was thirsty.  It was my dog felt duty to get the first lap of water though and it did not go well.  Thor was really thirsty and when he went for the water, I went for him.  Mom still had the hose in her had and she sprayed us with it to get us to stop fighting.  We were soaking wet before we quit.  Mom was not too happy about that.  She tries to remind me that Max and Thor are way bigger than me.  Mom just doesn't understand that I could care less.  I be the boss of this yard!

So, now I have to wear the buzzing collar.  But, I know if I can make it over the bank, it can't buzz me there.  Mom knows this too and she is getting quicker about catching up with me.  Sometimes the buzzing turns into a bite and I don't like that at all, but it does make me quit whatever I had in mind of doing.  I did figure out that if I shake enough, it loosens the collar and then it doesn't bite me.  Mom figured it out too when she had to chase me again with the remote control zapper.  It was shortly after that that she super glued the end of the collar.  Mom is mean.

There's a whole list of other festivities that I have accomplished, but I will save them for later.  Besides, there's a squirrel on the bird feeder!  Woof! 

 

Re-Gifted

 The three trees, located just off the back porch, made a perfect setting.  Just a few feet beyond the three trees, the woodland edge starts.  The combination of the two made a perfect spot for a bird feeder.....or two.  

It was not long before one feeder became two feeders.  It wasn't long after that, the two became four and then five.....six.  There is a long cylinder type feeder, with six feeding stations.  This particular feeder is supposed to be squirrel proof.  It is as far as the squirrels chewing on it because the perches and the piece that surround the holes is made of metal.  But, one squirrel has gotten quite good at hanging, upside down, by grasping two stations with its back feet.  Then it does sit ups to reach in, grab a seed and then resume the upside down position to eat it.  So, in retrospect, it is not totally squirrel proof.  This feeder hangs on a double hook pole and the other hook sports a flat box, supported by a cable from each corner.  The bottom of the box is a screen that allows the rain to drain.  This gives some of the ground feeding birds, that do not fit well on the standard feeder, a chance to munch above the ground.....the squirrels like it too.  Much handier than having to hang upside down.  Plus, when they leap off of it, most of the seeds do too.

On the top of the pole, where the two hooks split, is a piece of copper wire wrapped and shaped into a smaller hook.  This is where the homemade grape jelly feeder hangs.  The orioles have made good use of it, along with bees and even a hummingbird.  Who knew that squirrels have a hankering for grape jelly?  

On the center tree hang two small wire boxes.  These hold a suet cake each.  The small nuthatch and many variety of woodpeckers love to feed from them.  On the edge of the porch is a hummingbird feeder, that sits on a small table.  Who knew squirrels like sugar water?

One morning, the suet feeders were missing.  Not a trace of them were to be found.  Shortly there after, new wire boxes replaced the ones missing in action.  They ended up having an added feature as they were secured to the tree with more wire that circumvented the trunk.  The next morning, the suet feeders were still there but, most of their contents had been squished out, between the small wires and eaten.  Replacing the suet cakes resulted in the same outcome a morning later.

One very early morning, the most logical suspect was seen sitting in the feeder area.  A raccoon was rummaging through the seeds on the ground.  It did not hear the door open nor the soft footsteps onto the porch.  It did hear the "spttt" sound, looked up with the best "busted" face and high tailed it to the timber.

After that, it became necessary to bring in four of the six feeders inside......every night. The two suet feeders, the grape jelly express and the hummingbird juice. If a night was missed, something would be missing come morning.

Taking the four feeders out the other morning, a surprise awaited.  On the ground, below where the suet feeders hang, was a gift....an empty suet feeder had been returned.  Had the masked bandit had a change of heart.  Had it returned one of the feeders, perhaps in the form of a truce?  

As much as that idea sounded magical, it fit more into the category of non sensible.  A search party had been sent out, when it originally went missing, but no trace of it was ever found.  Rather than a guilt ridden raccoon, it most likely had fallen from the tree. 

Obviously, the search party had never given thought to looking up.  When the leaves have fallen, a new search will begin for the one still in hiding.   Hmmmm, that would make eight, maybe they were re-gifted.

Things That Might Help

 During these crazy times, times of staying away from people, family, friends, it is not only easy, it is a fact, people are getting bored.  They are not only bored, they are lonely, fearful and depressed.  Although sights of angry mobs make us wonder if humanity is really all it's cracked up to be, we really do need community.  

Having dealt with the pandemic, by trying to eat my way through it, I was not any happier.  Knowing that happiness comes from the inside and not the out, I thought of ways to combat my despair, besides eating an entire bag of chips or a whole jar of peanut butter......which is really not a favorite food to start with.

I had plenty to do, to keep me busy and focused, but only a fellow artist understands an artists' funk.  I tried reading, because I really like to read.  While reading, my mind would wander to the things I should be doing.  That made me feel worse.  I would clean house and do laundry.  That only lasted a short while, two people don't make a huge mess or have mountains of dirty clothes.

Thinking about what had worked in the past, I decided to do a breathing technique I had learned the year before.  It's a process of getting as much oxygen in the system and then learning to hold the breath for as long as possible.  Actually, one doesn't hold the breath in, so to speak, rather on the last exhale, one does not take another breath in.  It sounds weird, but it is an amazing process to eliminate lots of ailments, depression being one of them.  Do some research first, just look up Wim Hoff.

So, after the breathing exercise, I started to meditate.  All that is needed is 10-15 minutes.  The difference between prayer and meditation has been described as prayer is talking to God, meditation is listening.  Learning to meditate is not hard.  If there is anything hard about it, it is learning to quiet the mind.  I still find myself wandering off wondering what I'm going to eat when I'm done.  But, it does help lift the spirits of darkness, especially if practiced regularly.  

Then, despite all my efforts of finding self comfort, I knew that I needed to throw some movement into the mix. I started walking.  I mapped out a course and walked one mile each day.  Being impatient and not seeing any results, I read an article that stated by packing more weight, while walking, helped reduce weight.  I borrowed a 20 pound walking vest and removed 10 pounds.  I know myself well enough to realize "go big, or go home" is not the best advice for me to follow.....unless, of course, I want to quit on about the third or fourth day.  Walking, carrying an extra 10 pounds, was harder than I imagined, but I kept going.  After the first two weeks, I started to jog.

I have always thought being a runner would be a cool thing.  But, I have never seen a runner running who looked like they were having a good time.  That is probably my biggest problem in life, always wanting to have a good time.  Anyway, I started to add a jogging lap between my walking laps.  Now I'm jogging the entire mile.  Do not envision me gliding along that magnificent mile.  It's rather more like an old lady shuffle, just faster, because when I'm coming down that last lap, my feet are just barely above skimming the earth.

These are a few things that might help, if you are struggling with the loneliness.  Besides making you feel better, you may surprise yourself on what you are able to accomplish, no matter where you find yourself on the timeline of life.

When That Door Closes

The house was old.  Built somewhere during the first quarter of the 1900's.  Its walls were constructed of plaster and lathes.  There was an open staircase, right inside the front door.  Upstairs, there were four bedrooms and the only full bathroom in the entire house.  Four bedrooms were perfect for that family.  Besides the couple, who bought the house, there were three daughters.  Throughout the years of young girls growing into adults, there were many times the staircase endured angry steps, traversing upward, only to be finished with a grand finale of a slamming door.  Tiny pieces of plaster could be heard falling inside of the walls.

When the oldest daughter was ready to leave the nest, the couple gathered her meager belongings.  When it was determined that the car held the most important items, they left the comforts of the small rural town and headed for the city.  It was there, that the young mother was about to learn something that no one can ever prepare for.  After leaving their firstborn alone, in a tiny apartment.  The mother shut the car door and burst into tears.  She knew at that moment, life, as they had been so accustomed to, would never be the same.  She and her husband sat silently for a bit.  Just when he thought it would be a good time to leave, the young mother realized she had left her purse behind.  She jumped out of the car and ran up the steps to the apartment door.  She hurried in and there, sitting in a rocking chair, the only piece of furniture in the tiny front room, was her oldest daughter, tears streaming down her face.  With all the courage she could muster, less she gather her daughter into her arms and take her back home, she grabbed her purse and left.

It is the season for new beginnings.  The young fledglings are trying out their wings, wanting to taste freedom on their own.  The hope of a job well done rests in the forefront of every parents' mind as they let go and watch their child walk through a door that they themselves  cannot enter.  A mother's heart knows that when that door closes, it is true that another one opens.  But it does not do so without leaving a scar upon her heart.