I just read this thing from start to finish…talk about a word salad. Since I can’t get back into edit out all the jibberish…what follows is actually the contents of letters I have written or answered to friends which is why they make absolutely no sense. Well, to me it does. That’s what I get for saving every single word I write. But with no order or consistency. Hey, maybe I just enjoy sounding like a rambling lunatic. But know that it is just a pile of words that are meaningless to anyone but me. Sorry you had to stumble in here. If you go on a bit there’s some nice pictures and it looks like at one point I actually tried to make it have some sense but then I just got bored. The following are snippets of letters, emails and possibly prison correspondence. View it at your own risk. Children don’t try this without adult supervision.
The Daily Post: The Name’s The Thing
Have you ever named an inanimate object? (Your car? Your laptop? The volleyball that kept you company while you were stranded in the ocean?) Share the story of at least one object with which you’re on a first-name basis.
Our family always had unique names for places, objects and things. Some evolved from a toddlers effort to communicate with a still untrained tongue. Others just grew a name, Their birth never recorded, it just was.
I like to think about when our family moved into a stone cottage that had been built primarily for brief warm weather stays. It lacked hot water or any type of device to provide heat against the cold. I’m not sure why we ended up living there year round, perhaps because it was cheap or conveniently located to something important. I don’t remember any of us consciously bestowing a name, it seemed like we’d always called it “The Pit”.
While the name sounds ominous and foreboding, The Pit was neither. It was nestled in a green valley surrounded by the seemingly endless Blue Ridge Mountains.of North Carolina. The multi shaded outlines of various peaks and ridges…a deep dark blue rising first, then a lighter blue appearing just behind it and continuing on as though it were made up of endless mirrored images of delicately shaped hues in a natural palette. It was a sight that could not be interfered with by the daily life of the human eye. It would not be overlooked. It was the wall of our existence.
Our little stone cottage seemed centered in the vast hues of sky and mountains, like the bottom of a cone shaped backdrop of incredible beauty. One could not step outside without being softy embraced by forests, damp green fields and the crisp air that blew gently and playfully tousled one’s hair mimicking the curls of clouds that hung lazily overhead.
Perhaps The Pit acquired it’s name because it was a man made cairn in the midst of the effortless beauty of nature. It still stands decades later it’s magic still delighting newcomers.
The smell of salt in the air
The sound of bare feet scrunching in sand
An adventure bracketed between seasons
The promise of new friends from unknown places
The heart racing dreams of unchartered romance
The joy of freedom from adults
Summer, a time that appears to have no end
A time that will remain with us even when we are no longer children
A sweet memory that we can always call forth even when we are old.
My dog is really a child in fur pants.
This is important because my dog is part of me. This can get messy if I’m wearing my cotton candy shoes. Really messy if we are trying to sneak into a “no pets” facility. Which we do at every opportunity.
Following rules is not part of who I am. Also, I often toss authority and following directions into the compactor.
We can be as sweet as a lopsided chocolate cake.
If you visit us you will most likely find us lying back with our bellies full and icing in our hair and sometimes in our ears. We will have cake crumb mustaches and our PJ’s will be streaked with finger prints.
And yes, we like it that way. It adds a little spice to our good morning or good night kisses.
We are usually grumpy if we’ve gotten into a situation with lima beans. Lima beans bring out the savage in us and we can hold them in our cheeks longer than you can keep your eye on us.
We can spit them out with the accuracy of a sharp shooter on a tactical mission.
We should wear warning labels when we are forced to consume disgusting things. It can make us obnoxious and quite rude.
Sometimes we just ignore people until a romp in the park followed by a triple scoop ice cream cone turns us back into silly, waggily fools.
We are mostly made of love.