Archive by Author

Know the Joy of Being Imperfect

5 Sep

From My Heart

Louise Gibson

author of Window Wonders

 

 

 

When I first read the article on aging.
I truly wondered about the author’s age.
These are broad statements to make,
unless related to a calendar page.

“Older people are happier.
Being imperfect brings a sense of joy”
The author has a great sense of humor..
“Has society changed since you were a boy?”

“Longer life will improve quality of life”
Are you delusional?
“Aging increases knowledge”
If Alzheimer doesn’t make you institutional..

I have made my own observation about life..
Being imperfect is a natural state to be in..
Thank God, we have a Savior,
That should put an end to our chagrin

   
Blue Birds on bird bath

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The Shock of My Life

3 Sep

A Slice of Life

Bill Lites

Bill

When I was about 6 years old, my sister, Judy, and I went to spend the summer with our grandparents on their farm on the south side of San Antonio, TX. Grandpa and Granny had a cow, some chickens, several peacocks, a goat and a large Victory Garden where they raised a lot of the vegetables they ate. We had a free run of the place, all day every day, once we had finished our assigned daily chores. What a grand time we had. One of the things I remember about our stay was, every morning my Grandpa would milk the cow, bringing in the pail of milk for Granny to strain, through cheese cloth, before putting it away in the refrigerator for the day. My sister and I had our own small drinking glasses, and would stand at the counter waiting for our morning glass of warm milk, right out of the cow. I’m not so sure I would consider that a “treat” nowadays, as we did then. I never did learn how to milk that cow. It seemed like a lot of work to me.

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One of our chores was to gather the eggs every morning. There would be a dozen or so eggs to find and some of the chickens didn’t want to get off the nest. When they pecked at me, it hurt, and I would sometimes throw an egg at them. Of course, when Granny found out about that, there was the green willow switch that found the back of my legs. That went for chasing the Peacocks around the yard too. But, they were better flyers and usually made it high into one of the trees before I could get even close to them.

2

                                   

You might find this hard to believe, but the neighbor down the road from Granny’s house had a couple of very old Giant Century Plants in their front yard, and we smaller kids liked to climb up the pedals and slide down them. They had thorns down the edges of the pedals, but they had been worn down over the years and were dull, so with practiced skill, we could slide down them without getting scratched. I have never seen a Century Plant that big since; not even in pictures on the Internet, if in fact that is what they really were.

3

                                   

But, the thing that gave me “The Shock of My Life” was of all things, an old metal bed frame and springs. Yep, an old metal bed frame! A couple of the older boys had scrounged up a car battery, along with an old Ford Model “A” coil (and I don’t know what all else), and had somehow wired it all up to that metal bed frame. Then with the operator holding onto one of the wires, we would all line up, holding hands, and he would grab hold of the bed frame. We all jumped and the girls screamed, as the electricity went thru us. But why was the last boy in the line jumping around so, I wondered? That is, until it was my turn to be at the end of the line. When that jolt got to me, let me tell you, it was electrifying!

4

                                               

I guess you could say I got my Electric Shock Treatments early in life. DiVoran says, “Maybe those electric shocks had a calming effect on you, and that’s why you are so laid back.” Maybe she has something there. Who knows? I’ll never tell.

 

—–The End—–

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Transition to Maine~Part 4

31 Aug

SUNDAY MEMORIES

Judy Wills

JUDY

Winter arrived with a vengeance in northern Maine!  Early in October it started snowing, and we didn’t think it would ever stop.  Actually, that year (1970-1971) we had 156″ of snow.  It was piled up to the bottom of the windows for seven – yes I said SEVEN (7) – months.  We had a blizzard on April 1st.  As it happened, I was pregnant at the time and was outside going from the car to the house, when I slipped and fell.  I furiously told Fred that “anywhere else we would be it would be RAINING!  But here it is SNOWING!”  I was NOT a happy camper

2

One fun thing is that Karen’s memory of living in base housing is that we were completely snowed in!  Fortunately, that wasn’t the case – it’s just that her bedroom window overlooked the back stoop, and IT was covered in deep snow.

3

We had so much snow that the housing members (that was us) had to dig a “tunnel” to walk through – especially in the back of the row house.

4

The base had to keep the runway clear for emergencies, so that was the first thing plowed.  Second were the roads on the base.  Third was the housing areas, and fourth were the garage areas within the housing area.  That didn’t get done very often, so we usually just parked on the street.  Of course, then you ran the risk of getting your car covered in plowed snow.

5

The garage areas were also in a “row,” and had the capability of hooking up the engine block to a heater, so the vehicle would be more apt to start on a cold morning.  Unfortunately, they were in such sad shape that, while we were there, one of those garage units caught fire – and the entire garage row was completely burned to the ground in five minutes!  The fire department didn’t even arrive in time to salvage any of the building.

6

A few interesting facts:

1.  All the farmers in the area had snow plows that they attached to their tractors, and helped to keep the roads clear.

2.  Fred purchased studded snow tires, had them mounted on wheels, and just changed out the entire wheel when the snow began to fall in earnest.  He was able to sell them when we were ready to move.

3.  In January, the high for the month was 4̊ below zero!  When in February it got to 25̊ above zero, we thought it was a heat wave and people were running around in shirt sleeves!

4.  While it was still cold, some of the tenants of the row houses would flood the area between the row houses and make a skating rink.  Some would even run their snowmobiles there.

7

There were a lot of complaints about Maine.  We knew a lot of pilots who volunteered for a second or third tour in Vietnam just to get away from Loring.  Unfortunately, the AF usually sent them right back to Loring after those assignments.  The AF lost a lot of good pilots that way, as they left the military.

There was one man in Fred’s unit who was a Maine native and really loved his assignment there.  He kept requesting to stay, but they kept sending him places like Turkey and Italy and such like.  We kept saying why didn’t the AF just let him stay there, and let us go somewhere warm??!!

~~~~~~To Be Continued~~~~~~

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Does God provide beyond our expectations?

30 Aug

Wow, Janet’s post today is interesting. How would you respond in such a situation?

The Wise Old Owl

29 Aug

From My Heart

Louise Gibson

author of Window Wonders

 

 

 

Years ago an anonymous writer

penned a short poem about the

merit of measuring our words.

 

“A wise old owl sat in an oak,

The more he saw the less he spoke.

The less he spoke the more he heard.

Why can’t we all be like

that wise old bird.”

 

There is a connection between wisdom

and limiting what we say.

It is wise to be a good listener

while holding our tongue at bay.

 

Be sensitive to the needs of the

one you are speaking to.

Listen to what their heart is saying

before expressing your point of view.

 

Footnote:

Although there is a time to be quiet

and a time to speak (Eccl.3;7)

choosing to speak less allows us to hear more.

Tree with owl

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Parachute Man

27 Aug

A Slice of Life

 Bill Lites

Bill

 

When I was six years old (1944) WWII was still raging and most everyone in America was trying to do their part to support the war effort. Children’s toys were among the many things that were slanted toward the war and my parents bought me a small stuffed Parachute Man. My Parachute Man was decked out in a camouflaged battle outfit with a cloth parachute attached to his back. I could wrap the parachute and shroud lines around his body, and then when I threw him high in the air, the parachute would unwind and he would come floating down just like a real U.S. Army Paratrooper. Boy, did I have fun with that Parachute Man! I repeated the sequence over and over, day after day, trying to see how high I could throw him. As you can imagine, the higher I could throw him the longer it took him to float back down to me. I can’t remember how long this went on, but I had gotten pretty good at lofting my Parachute Man way up there.

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 Our house in Dallas, TX was on a corner lot, and the side street was usually fairly busy with traffic, going both ways, and I had been instructed to play on the other side of our yard. One day as I was playing with my Parachute Man, and having so much fun, I didn’t notice that the wind had shifted and was now blowing across our yard from the west. On one of the highest lofts I had ever thrown, when the parachute opened, the wind caught my Parachute Man and he drifted across our yard and out into the cross street, right in front of a car. I held my breath. Was he going to be run over and crushed? I ran to the edge of our yard to see what had happened to my Parachute Man. But, he wasn’t there! Where was he? I looked up and down the street, but he was nowhere in sight. Then I realized… he had gotten caught on the front of that car and I would never see him again. I was a sad little boy for a long time after that, but my parents didn’t buy me another Parachute Man; probably thinking it would end up the same way or worse, if I were to run out into the street after him.

2

                                               

The next year, our family flew to our new home in Albuquerque, NM in a beautiful shiny American Air Lines DC-3, and I’ve been hooked on airplanes ever since. I had planned to be a fighter pilot when I grew up, but my astigmatism ended that dream. I even took flying lessons, and soloed a couple times, but ran out of money before I got my license.   Now that I’m retired, the # 1 item on my “Bucket List” is to attend as many Airshows and visit as many Aviation Museums as I can while I can still walk.

3

                                   

Just last October I was at an airshow in Addison, TX to see “FIFI” the only flying B-29 in the world, and happened to run into Bob Bearden. Bob was a sergeant in the 507th Parachute Regiment, 82nd Airborne Division, who parachuted into France on June 6, 1944 as part of the Normandy invasion during WWII. Bob was dressed in his jump gear and boots and he reminded me of my Parachute Man. It was my privilege to meet and talk with Bob and have my picture taken with him, in front of a C-47, painted with invasion stripes, just like the plane he and his fellow paratroopers jumped from on that infamous day so many years ago.

4

                                   

 

         “Thank you Bob and all those many other Parachute Men for your service to our country.”

 

 

 

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Gunnison Adventure~Part 2

26 Aug

A Few Thoughts

Patricia Franklin

One of the most beautiful trips we took, and one I always anticipate, was up to Paradise Divide above Crested Butte at about 11,500 feet. This is one of our favorite places to go, and we hid a geocache up here years ago, which is still there. We get many great comments about the Paradise area on our geocaching site.

1

 

There are several rare flowers on this trip and some of them only bloom for a very short time, if conditions are right. For instance we saw Glacier Lilies that only grow near the snow banks for a short time after the snow melts;

2

Moss Campion (moss in bloom, with the sweetest smelling little pink flowers you have ever seen); Monument Plants which only bloom once, then are dormant for 20 – 60 years, then will bloom again. Rosy Paint Brush with its different shades of bright pink to pale pink, grows at this altitude. We saw a multitude of Lemon Paint Brush and the bright red Indian Paint Brush, too. Then there is the fluffy little Bistort that is soft and pleasing to the eye, but smells like dirty socks. These are just a few of my favorite flowers. There is a wonderful waterfall on the road up that cascades down 1000 feet this time of year, and a beautiful pristine Mirror Lake at the top. Also at the top, a large red mountain above timberline dominates the scene. You never see a lot of people up here.

Going down the other side, a few miles down you see many more people, as it is a popular area. You pass the Biology Research Center located in beautiful Gothic. They established research plots in this area years ago to study the gorgeous flora here. It looks like they are expanding their research, as they are building a huge new building up here. Also as you come down this side, you pass Emerald Lake, which is very deep and is the color of emeralds. This is a favorite fishing, hiking and biking area, with many bicycle trails in use here in the summer. One popular trail passes the famous Maroon Bells and leads you into Aspen on the other side of the mountain to the east.

We saw a lot of wildlife during our stay in the area this year, including several deer, a couple of herds of elk (mamas and babies),a family of raccoons climbing a tree to spend the night, and 3 deer being stalked by a coyote.

10

 

We were parked by the road watching the deer right above us. They were not spooked by us, but kept looking over our heads into the meadow below. So we looked down there and saw the coyote. He was watching them and looked like he was going to try to go around and maybe get behind them. However, we don’t think he would attack on his own. We also had our own little resident doe that stays close to our condo

11

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Feeling protected and secure.

23 Aug

Janet shares what she learned in Bolivia about feeling protected and secure.

Where Do I Go To Cry

22 Aug

From My Heart

Louise Gibson

author of Window Wonders

                                      
                                    Life presents many challenges-
                                    When confronted, I honestly try,
                                    But when bad things happen,and they surely do,
                                    Where do I go to cry?
                                    It isn’t gender related,
                                    nor is it ruled by a calendar page.
                                    Bad things happen to good people
                                    everywhere,
                                    Regardless of sex or age.

 

                                   Emotional tears are the body’s way
                                   of reducing stress-
                                   So let those tears flow
                                   in times of sadness… or happiness.
                               
                                  Mathew 5:4
                                  “Blessed are they that mourn,
                                  for they shall be comforted.”
                                  Psalm 30
                                  “Weeping may endure for a night,
                                  but joy comes in the morning.”

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The Little Girl Down the Street

20 Aug

A Slice of Life

Bill Lites

Bill

 

When I was 5 or 6 years old my girlfriend from down the street and I enjoyed playing together most of the time. One of our favorite past times was making mud pies and eating them. I know, that sounds yucky now, but as I remember, that Texas mud was delicious. And I read, not too long ago, that the dirt kids eat somehow helps build their immune system to fight off unwanted diseases later in life.

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Well anyway one day, as I remember it, Patsy and I got in an argument over which mud pies belonged to who, and when Patsy couldn’t get her way, she grabbed my arm and bit me. I was shocked, and ran home crying. When I told my grandmother what had happened, she looked me in the eye and said, “The next time Patsy bites you, you just bite her back”. I told her I would do that, but I wasn’t so sure that was going to work, as Patsy could get really mad, and I could end up with many more and much na stier bites.

2

                                   

Patsy was the only other kid my age in the neighborhood, and we were still friends, so I soon forgot all about the incident. The next time we had an argument about something (I can’t remember about what), Patsy got really mad, and it ended up with her biting me. She was surprised when I didn’t turn and run home crying. But, she was even more surprised when I grabbed her arm and bit her back. Now she was the one running home crying. I was kinda proud of myself for not being a wimp, and went home to tell my grandmother of my victory.

3                                                           

Well, the celebration didn’t last long, because Patsy’s mother soon came storming down to our house wanting to know what kind of a “Little Brat” my mother and grandmother were raising anyway. Didn’t they know that boys biting little girls was “Barbaric” and not at all nice. After my grandmother related the whole story to Patsy’s mother, she just couldn’t believe “Her Little Princess” could have done such a thing. When she asked Patsy if the story was true, Patsy admitted it was, and her mother was shocked. After that, she calmed down and was actually embarrassed about the whole matter.

4

                                                           

I’m sure a lot of talk went on between the adults, once the whole story was out in the open, but by then Patsy and I were ready to be friends again, and we were sent outside to play. After that incident, Patsy and I must have had other arguments, but to my knowledge, none of them ended in us biting each other. It’s amazing for me to think back to that incident and realize how easy it is for a child to become a bully, when not confronted about their actions. Moreover, just how quickly a young bully can be diverted from continuing that bullying into adulthood, when they receive a dose of what they have been handing out to others.

 

—–The End—–

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