upon loving the ride~

Greetings to everyone from south central Kansas on this the next to the last day of November.  It's 5:30 in the evening, the sun has gone down and the "soon to be winter's" darkness will swallow up my neighbourhood on East 14th Street.  Winter's arrival in near unto 3 weeks is imminent and although our weather here has been really pretty decent, it's only a matter of time before autumn heads on out of here and its "replacement" arrives.  

I feel fortunate to still be able to ride my bike several days each week, after school and on the weekends.  Last week, during our Thanksgiving break from school, I was able to ride about 60 miles during my 5 days off.  Although the rides are somewhat limited on the actual mileage I can go with daylight hours being shortened up quite a bit, I still am glad to say that I can go.  And I guess given "old lefty's" unfortunate experience of a year ago, I should be really glad to be able to sit upright on a bike again.

I got the chance to ride when I got home from school today~totally at the last minute and unplanned by me.  It was later when I finally found the finish of the day and when I drove in the drive at about 4:15, the sun was already making it's descent into the western horizon.  I thought, "man I wish I could still get in a ride today" and before I knew it, I had changed clothes and was  standing by my bike in the drive way.  Even though I knew I couldn't ride for long it really didn't matter to me.  I just wanted to ride and so I did.

As I got to the "turn around" point on the Martinez Bike Trail, I had this sudden realization of just how precious the chance to get on a bike felt today.  I knew I was working with "borrowed" time here and  basically from the moment the thought of riding smacked me upside the head at 4:10, I would have very little time to decide if I was going or not.  A wasted moment, here or there, and I would have been up the proverbial "creek without a paddle".  Never been a big fan of riding in pitch blackness, especially with no lighting.  Remember, my bucket list is a wish for "life" not for "death".

Never have I really given much thought to how precious and wonderful a ride on a bike can be for someone like me.  Yet after having considered it, I realize that I've had several of those kinds of rides over the years.  The very first rides after the "crashes of '87, '00, '01, and '02"and the "ever infamous curb jumping nightmare of 2012", as well as the huge feat of pushing off for the first time last year between the surgeries on "old lefty" have all been the very precious to me.  

Having spent probably 75% of my 57 years of living not being particularly interested in doing any kind of sport, I finally now have discovered what I might well have liked doing all along~Cycling :) So until I can no longer physically do it or my children take my bicycle away from me (LOL, hey there actually was thought of that after I broke my arm last year~yet they changed their minds.) then I intend to just keep on going.

It's morning time now and instead of being the next to the last day of the great month of November, it is 5:30 a.m. on the VERY last day of the month.  Seldom do I ever begin a blog post on one day and finish it the next, but last night I surrendered to the "gods of sleepiness" and actually laid my head down on the pillow at 9:00.  It's an "old person thing" and you young folks someday will understand and say the same I suppose.  

I checked the obituary column of the Hutchinson News this morning,  just as I do every morning, and didn't happen to catch my name among those who lives have now ended on this earth.  Reading the obits is just a normal part of my newspaper reading routine and perhaps you could say the same for you as well.  No matter how many of them I have read over the course of the last, say 40 years or so, I am still soberly reminded of just how precious is this gift of "breathing in and out" each day.  The average person, at least according to "Ask.com", takes in between 17, 280 and 23,040 breaths per day and for the most part we don't even realize we are doing it.  The only time we ever get really excited about the process is when all of a sudden the taking in of one of those breaths causes us discomfort or worse.  

I feel as if I am living my life these days with a gentle sense of urgency.  Realizing that "time goes quick", "life is short", "life flies no matter whether you are having fun or not", or any other saying you can imagine, I try every day to be mindful of how each day is spent.  Whether you have a "bucket list" or not, whether you are young, old or anywhere in between, please take advantage of every  blessed opportunity that comes your way.  So, if you finally took that fishing and hiking trip to Minnesota this past summer, that's great and I am so happy for you!  But don't wait another 10 years before you go once more.  Perhaps you have just finished college and would love dearly some day to get your master's degree....well, how long are you going to wait to do it? Or you might even be one who has the chance to go home and visit family at the holidays.  You're asking yourself, "Is it worth the travel for only a few days to visit?  What if the weather is bad?  Nah, I'll just go in the springtime."  But what if the springtime doesn't come for you or for anyone who really is looking forward to seeing you? When it is said by some that we should live each day as if it is the last one we will ever receive, well you know they are right.  

The clock on the wall say it's time to get out of my pajamas and get ready for school.  If you are reading this, you made it to Friday too!  I wish for you all only the best that life has to offer~and I surely hope that all of us have many days ahead of us in which to enjoy this life.  If today WERE my last day here on earth, then I would want to leave you with this message~"Thank you most sincerely for being my friends and for loving and accepting me for who I am, just as I am.  You know I never thought of that before.  It's kind of nice to be able to be "yourself" and still have lots of friends that are behind you and alongside of you each day.  

November 30th, 2012~a great day to be alive in~

                                                       late autumn ride, 2012
After my accident last year, I never begin a ride without pausing, even if I AM in a hurry, to ask God to go alongside me.  Sorry that I had to be really hurt in order to come that realization and thank goodness for the "do-over".

For upon those times when we ALL make mistakes~

I noticed him right away yesterday morning as I entered into the sanctuary of my church here in Hutchinson.  He was sitting way towards the back, on the outside edge of the pew.  A quiet young man, dressed in a nice black shirt and pants, head down most of the time as if he were reading something over. I didn't recognize him at all and I had no idea who he might even be, but I and the rest of my fellow parishioners were soon to find out.  

As the service was ready to begin, our pastor gave the usual opening announcements and then said that there was a young man amongst us in the pews who needed some time to share a few words with us.  With that being said, he called the young man named Josh, up to the front of the church.  What happened next was a "life lesson" preached to us by a young teenage boy who was there in church on that Sunday morning to apologize for something he had done, harm caused by his own actions.  And as he spoke, it was so quiet that you could definitely have heard the proverbial "pin drop".  

His comments were plain and simple, very straight to the point of the matter.  Josh was there to make amends for damage he had done one evening when he broke into our church this past summer.  He was there to say the truth about his part in it and to tell us how very sorry he was that he had done it in the first place.  Josh made absolutely no excuses for what he did, never giving the blame to anyone or anything else. That young man owned it!  I could tell by the way his words came out, that his apology was sincere and truly how much courage it would have taken to admit his guilt in front of all of the people sitting in the very church he had caused destruction in.  Yet he did....

As I listened to him with my eyes set straight upon his face, I had to work hard to fight back my own emotions.   Gazing around, I could tell that I wasn't the only one who was moved by his admission of wrong doing.  There seemed to be a whole lot of reaching for Kleenix among the congregation and it wasn't because we all had colds.  Josh spoke probably no more than 3 minutes and when he was done, the congregation did the unthinkable (perhaps to some in the Missouri-Synod Lutheran world)~ they loudly applauded him for taking responsibility and ownership of his actions that night and I was glad.

As I watched that young man walk back down the aisle, I noticed something about him, and the something was this~he could have been my son or your son or for that matter it could have been me or you.  Who among us has been able to get through this life without making our own share of mistakes along the way? Although I know how much damage he did and how much work it took to get everything taken care of, it's time to forgive him, hope and pray he learned a lesson from it all, and move on.  As far as I'm concerned, that young man grew about a foot in height today in just one short span of time.  I believe it was "character building", "character refining" at its best and I was thankful to have been a witness to it.  

If you are like me, then you have been the recipient of a lot of "second, third, or even fourth" chances in this life.  We may have said something to hurt someone's feelings, broken a law, did poorly on a test, or had a bad day in regards to our job performance. Without the countless do-overs that we all daily receive, life would be dismal at best.  I'm thankful he came and brought the gift that he did to all of us this past Sunday morning.  Josh has a long road ahead of him in life and by his own admittance yesterday as he stood at the lectern, he knows it will not be even close to being remotely easy.  

Borrowing the words from a most wonderful song, "If Today Was Your Last Day", "That first step you take is the longest stride.", the young man called Josh did the right thing yesterday.  As a teacher and a mom of 3 children of my own, my hope and prayer for him would be that he "make it" successfully in this life.  I like what our pastor prayed in the prayer for him yesterday~that God would create a "hedge of protection" around this young man and that he would continue to make the very best of choices in life.  As for me, I wish him the best~it was a blessing to witness.

Have a wonderful Monday morning all of you out there!  Today is the last Monday in the month of November~the 26th to be exact.  A great day for a do-over and a great day to be alive in.

Proof that even a cat deserves a do-over or two or three~Oblio, our round-head cat doing what she does best this time of year.     

Revisiting "riding on the back of a motorcycle very fast and living to tell about it"

Sitting here at the dining room table this morning, working on cup of coffee #2 and doing my least favourite of all household chores~paying bills.  And as I checked them off the calendar, I couldn't help but get the feeling that 2012 was just about history and how tremendously quick this year had gone.  Where in the heck did time go, AGAIN?  

One of the nice things about writing a blog, at least for me, is the ability to look back at the posts and see my "life" as it has been since the first post in mid-May 2011.  As I was going through the different entries that I had made, many of them forgotten already by me, I happened upon the one from last November at just about this time.  I had just finished one of my "Miller Bucket List" items from probably about List #5~"to ride on the back of a motorcycle very fast and live to tell about it".  My dear friends, Ron and Sara Brubaker, knew of my wish and made sure that one cloudy and late November afternoon, it could be fulfilled.  In between surgeries on "old lefty" and still wearing my neon-pink short arm splint, I climbed onto the back of Ron's motorcycle and took off.  I decided to reprint that one here in today's blog post as a good reminder to me of the generosity of two wonderful people in this world and the desire I had (and still do) to enjoy life to its fullest.  Probably a good thing I did this AFTER my parents had both passed away cause I would have been "so" grounded if they had found out about it.  :)  

From November 25, 2011~and I have no regrets whatsoever that I did it AND would do it again just like that!

Friday, November 25, 2011

to ride on the back of a motorcycle very fast and live to tell about it

As a mom with 3 kids, I cannot tell you the number of times they have told me about scary things they have gone through in this life.  Thankfully, for me, I never learned about them until months or even years later.  LOL~They always would say, "Mom, what good would it have been for you to know about it when it was happening?  Like you were going to change it or something?"  Point well taken Ursela, Grahame, and Ricky.  

One particular incident (although there have been hundreds that I could have chosen from) involved my oldest son, Ricky.  That boy is an adventurer and in 2007 he decided to mountain bike along the Continental Divide for a month.  He camped out along the way amid the beautiful and majestic Rocky Mountain scenery.  I gave little thought to his camping sites until one day when he was back home again, he happened to show me a photo of him standing next to a sign in his camping area.  The sign said, "DANGER-MOUNTAIN LION AREA".  In his haste and in the dark of the night before, he had unknowingly pitched his tent in an area alongside "mountain lion highway".  And he told me that he had one of his best night's sleep there!

My middle child, Grahame, also an adventuresome guy, spent a month along the Appalachian Trail this past spring.  Of course I worried about him, pretty much non-stop the whole time.  But wouldn't you know it, the one night that for some reason I didn't worry was the night that his food bag was attacked by a bear.  So thankful that I didn't learn about it until days later...like the kids kept telling me, what would I have been able to do about it anyways?

The baby of the family, Ursela, has so far not divulged any scary moments and if she's had them...well, she's saving them up for a "special time" to share them with me.  If she takes after her brothers, then I shall rest assured that sometime in the near future, I can count on a few more gray hairs.

I have always encouraged them to live their lives to the fullest each and every day.  As their mom, I want them to have NO regrets about the choices they make.  And I, dear friends, want to have no regrets either cause we all know that this life is way too short.  So that's why today, November 25th, 2011, I worked on accomplishing item #3 on the "Miller Bucket List"-to ride on the back of a motorcycle very fast and live to tell about it.

I know what some of you must be thinking...."old lefty" is still in fairly fragile condition.  I've already been in a bicycle accident and spent the better part of 2 months in a cast.  Why take a chance today by going for a motorcycle ride?  And guys, I've said before that Item #3 is NOT a death wish, but a life wish!  I've wanted to have a motorcycle ride for as long as I can remember.  Now the "going fast" part, well, I'm going to have to chalk that one up to seeing the IMAX movie, "Speed" at the Kansas Cosmosphere 13 times in a row.  Speed fascinates me and although I dang sure don't need daily or even monthly doses of it, I did want to take this ride.  

Luckily for me, I have two very wonderful friends, Sara and Ron Brubaker.  When Sara learned this summer that Item #3 had to do with riding a motorcycle, she immediately thought of her good husband, Ron.  Being the great guy that he is, Ron volunteered to help me out by giving me the ride on his motorcycle.  Summer's incessant heat and then my biking accident kept postponing taking the ride.  But today it was arranged, kind of on the spur of the moment, and I fulfilled my wish.

  

Here we are, prior to leaving this afternoon from in front of Sara's salon in South Hutchinson.  Ron has a really nice Honda VTX 1800, a smooth ride.  My dear young friend, Amy Brittain Pratt, should be very happy to see that her old first grade teacher was indeed wearing a helmet (thanks to my good friend Kalisha for providing it for me).  And "old lefty" was tucked safely into the "get out my way neon pink colored" splint.  I wasn't worried in the least~if you ever take a motorcycle ride, then you should only hope and pray that the person driving it is half as careful as Ron Brubaker is.  

Since this was only my 4th motorcycle ride ever in life, I wasn't even sure how to get on and off of one, or what in the world to hang on to.  But Sara and Ron talked me through it and I had absolutely no problems whatsoever.  When we pulled out of the parking lot of "It's All About You", I had no regrets in the least.  I was getting ready to do what I wanted to do...and it felt so very good.

And so, we were off....heading south out of South Hutchinson, via 96 and then 17 highways.  Boy, what a feeling~very amazing in fact to fly down the road like that.  I thought of how, as a cyclist, I was always so thrilled to go down the hill of the bike path at 23 mph.  That always seemed like super sonic speed to me.  Today I learned what moving along fast really feels like.  And how fast DID we go?  Well, let's see since I'm a teacher, I'm going to put it you this way....If I was teaching math and talking place value, then the highest speed we attained had a "2" in the tens place and a "0" in the ones place and in the hundreds place......dang you will have to figure that one out on your own.  The bottom line is, for that brief moment in time, Peggy Miller was having the time of her life and living her life to the utmost.  Keeping in mind, the last part of that Bucket List wish....and live to tell about it is shown below.

We made it back in one piece just a little over 30 minutes from when we left.  I think I must have had a smile on my face the entire time.  I wasn't afraid in the least and had all the faith and trust in the world with the driving ability of Ron Brubaker.  For the first half of the ride, I had my fingers clutched around the back of his jacket (like THAT would do anything if we had a crash) but by the time were about 6 miles from town my hands just rested at my side.  We made it back to South Hutch by 2:15 and I was alive and very well.  My spirit soared, my heart was light, and peace was inside of me.

Friends, what is it that you have left to do in this life that seems a little scary to you?  Is there something, no matter how big or small, that you've meaning to accomplish but just don't quite have the courage to do it?  Being a "risk taker" can be quite frightening and sometimes it seems like the smartest thing to do, perhaps the ONLY thing to do, is to NOT take a risk.  Risks are everywhere in this life...and from the moment you arise in the morning until you lay your head on the pillow in sleep each night, you really have to face that fact.  Only you can make the decision as to whether or not you want to embrace the risk or turn away from it.  What ever your decision is, you can only hope that it is one you can live with.  As for me, this day, I chose to take the risk and rest assured, I have absolutely no regrets!  

Why not give thanks?

Thanksgiving dinner ended an hour or so ago and we are all sitting around (or sound asleep) wondering how on earth we ate all that we did.  The Christmas tree went up shortly thereafter and true to form, and to no surprise to any of us, Oblio our round headed cat attempted to scale it in under 6 minutes.  All I have to say about that is this~It's gonna be a long spell until the 25th of December.  All in all, it's been a really good day and as a matter of fact except for the fact that my gut is way too full, I have absolutely nothing to complain of.  Life here on 14th Street is pretty much "ok" and I sure like to see it that way.

I have really enjoyed reading the posts that my friends and family have left on Facebook today as to those things that they give thanks for.  For family and friends, homes and jobs, renewed health and prosperity, and a host of other things, I couldn't agree with them more.  Truly all of us have been blessed beyond measure in this life, in both the things that we "have" as well as those things we "have not".  Oh dear ones, may we always be remembering that fact.

2012 will always remain a year that I will be reminded of my blessings,  both the big and the small ones.  I started out the year in January with "old lefty" still in a cast after the 3rd major surgery on it from my biking accident of August of 2011.  It would be 4 more months until Dr. Chan would pronounce it "as good as it will ever be" at my April appointment.  The glorious "end" to the 9-month siege of living in the kingdom of "broken bones" was now coming to a close and it happened not a moment too soon.  I got back on my bike and little by little returned to the pastime that I loved so well.  At first it wasn't a pretty picture as I struggled to at least be able to ride 1/4 as fast and far as I had before.  When I got the chance to ride this morning, I noticed that I feel nearly as good and strong as I did before the accident.  Hey, I'll never be "Lance Armstrong" but (wow, come to think of it that's not such a bad thing) at least I am back and trying like never before. 

If I had to choose something (other than family and friends) that I was most thankful for this year in 2012, I would have to say the same thing that I did in 2011~I am thankful that I had a bicycle accident and busted my left arm to "smithereens" or to "kingdom come and back", you choose your favourite.  People have told me that I am crazy to say such a thing but I say to you all that it couldn't be any more the truth than that.  As it did in the first few weeks and months after August of 2011, my broken arm continued to teach me a whole lot about myself and the people around me as this year has progressed.  My eyes became opened for the first time as to what was really important in this life.  Here's how~

By the time the first of this year rolled around, I'd already been dealing with "old lefty's" dilema for the better part of 140 days.  I was wearing out, quickly as a matter of fact and I was not only physically tired from the whole ordeal, my spirit had gotten pretty low at times as well.  I never figured it would it end and made the remark many times that when Elliott's (the local funeral home service) came to get me in the years to come, that I'd be a 92-year old woman who was STILL wearing a cast.  I was pretty near unto giving up many times but good friends came to my rescue and gave me that much needed "kick in the seat pants" moment in time, good friends like LeRoy Willis.  He knew I could make it but I just needed a reminder sent to me once in a while.  As I moved into the "home stretch" in late February and early March, people started to suggest to me that I might even be able to ride a bike again.  Oh for those wonderful encouraging friends who did that!  It was their belief that I could probably get back on the bike again and ride that gave me the momentum to try once more.  And you know what?  They were right-I CAN ride a bike again and actually, I can ride pretty well for a now 57-year old cyclist!

The students that I have at school not only continued to be my biggest "cheerleading squad" ever  in the period of time (August of 2011 until April of 2012) that my arm was so badly messed up, they continue to be the same today.  It's always so sweet to hear them tell "their version" of what I did that day to new students who have started attending Lincoln Elementary after August of this year.  For the most part, they are pretty accurate in their recounting of the story.  They use phrases like, "jumping a curb on a bicycle", "her own front yard", "going too fast", "a cast all during school last year" and "way too old" (in reference to me) as they tell their own versions of the story.  And even though the kids are used to the way my arm looks now, new students seeing it for the first time are always a little taken aback by it.  My left hand looks somewhat smaller and about 10 years older than the right one, the infamous "bump" is there again and even though the scars from the various surgeries have faded a bit, they are still very plain to see. So when a "new kid" notices my arm and starts to ask questions, I never have to worry about answering them because there is always someone who knows the story and volunteers to help me out.  And as those kids familiar with it "go to bat" for Mrs. Miller, their "defense" of the way "old lefty" looks is very endearing to this teacher's "heart".  At those times when someone new innocently questions why one arm looks different than the other, it is so common and heart warming to hear an explanation just like the one below from a student who has been through this all with me~

"Hey, look she broke her arm last year, all right?  It looked way worse than that last year!  She broke it so bad that when the doctors did surgery on her, the old broken bones just fell out right there!  She's got a donor's bone graft in her wrist and it came from someone that had died!  THAT'S why it looks that way."  

It's 6 p.m. here now in south central Kansas and the sun has set in the western sky. The darkness comes so quickly these days it seems.  Thanksgiving Day has been here and is almost gone. Tomorrow thousands of people everywhere in this country will be out on "Black Friday" doing their best to find just the right gift at a ridiculously low price. Sure do hope that those shoppers can keep things in the proper perspective as they do battle with one another for shopping carts, parking spaces, places in the check out line, and the last item left.  Oh yeah, one last thing... If your life has been similar to mine, there have been plenty occasions to live through some pretty lean and rough years as well as some that the local farmers would refer to as "bumper crops".  My prayer for all of us on this Thanksgiving Day of 2012 would be that we remember always that even at their "worst" moments, our lives have been so very blessed.  We shouldn't be waiting until next Thanksgiving Day to proclaim our thankfulness.  Let every day be the cause for attitudes of gratitude.  

Good night friends~have a restful "tryptophan" induced sleep tonight, courtesy of today's meat of choice, the valiant turkey!

Last year at about this time with my good friends, the "Brothers Mitzner" and their mom.  "Old lefty" was in a temporary cast, waiting on the swelling to go down so another long arm one could be put on in its place.  Those two boys and their mom were some really good medicine for me that night.  They just didn't know it at the time.  :)

How Oblio saved Christmas and me~

For a period of time in my life, and ok it WAS a long period of time, I gave up the custom that I once had learned to love as a little child~the celebration of Christmas.  From 2003 until the Christmas of 2010, I never put up a tree, sent very few cards to people, and rather than picking out personal gifts for my 3 children I instead just gave them money and told them to go buy what they wanted. I avoided any type of holiday parties, immediately threw away the holiday ads that showed up in every Sunday paper, and even though "A Charlie Brown Christmas" still remains my favourite of all Charles Schultz specials, with a tear in my eye I would always shut it off in its opening moments.  Putting it simply~the holidays depressed the dickens out of me and the sooner they were over, the better.

It's a long story and if I told it all the good folks at "Blogger" who manage all of these pages of mine and other bloggers, would probably start to complain.  But suffice it to say, it was a rough stretch of time.  By late 2003, I had gone through a divorce and was living alone, trying to figure out what my place in life was.  In addition to being a teacher, I had a part-time job as a CNA at a local health care facility for the elderly.  Gladly I would volunteer to work ANY holiday, especially Thanksgiving and Christmas.  I used the reasoning that if I volunteered to take  someone else's place, then they could spend time at home with their little kids and family members.  Although I love to help anyone that I can, the real reason (if I were to admit to it) was that I wanted to work so I could forget that the day was special for something.  Hey, it was a great plan and worked out pretty dang good for 6 years~December 25 was just the next day on the calendar after December 24 and December 26 would always follow.  But then in the 7th year of my abstinence from enjoying Christmas, things began to change.

In the summer of 2010, a little kitten named Oblio came to live at my house.  Cute as could be that dumb cat was, and finally some extra company to look forward to every day when I got up and when I came home from work.  Anyone who owns a pet knows the therapeutic value that animals possess.  Little Oblio was just that for me and she soon became friends with my son Grahame and I, making herself right to home, as cats are famous for doing.  She must have been more "soothing for the soul" than I realized because before I knew it, one December morning later that year, I was at the store purchasing the first Christmas tree that I had owned for over 10 years.  

Although we celebrated the 2010 Christmas rather "small scale", it was nice to finally have something up in the house that reminded me of the season.  Despite all of the good advice that I received from Facebook friends on "how on earth do I keep a cat out of a Christmas tree?", our dear "round head" Oblio continually turned it into her own personal playground.  We tried everything we could and then some, but to no avail.  I just gave up and hoped that the tree wouldn't be on the floor some morning when I awoke.  I guess you have to look into the loving little eyes of a cat and realize there are some battles that aren't worth even trying to fight as shown below.

Last year's Christmas holiday was celebrated on a slightly larger scale with Grahame, Ricky, Angie, Ursela and Wade around our dinner table.  We laughed like crazy, tried some yucky vegetable called a "brussel sprout", had delicious turkey and even a "tofu" one for Ursela, our resident vegetarian.  It was a "book Christmas" and I asked all of the kids to pick out a couple of titles that they'd be interested in reading.  It did this "teacher mom's" heart good to see the smiles on their faces when they opened up their books and to realize they still had a love of the printed written word.  When it was all over, and we could barely get up from the table because of all we had eaten, I felt good.  Couldn't even imagine why I had given up the celebration for so very long.  

Later on this week, the tree of 2012 will be set up and decorated and the Christmas season will begin again in our house.  I imagine I'll be watching "A Charlie Brown Christmas" not just once, but maybe a couple of times.  I still like to send out Christmas cards, even though in this age of "e-cards" the antiquated process of buying a card, writing an address on it and sticking a "forever" stamp in the corner is pretty much over.  But some traditions I  really do have a hard time giving up on.  And one thing for sure, dear Obie will probably have her own personal "hey day" with her "new best friend" the Christmas tree every day while I am gone to school.  But in the whole scheme of life, that probably doesn't even matter any more. Why be worrying over things that you really can't change anyway?

For a great deal of people, the holidays reflect a time when families gather for fun, food, and togetherness.  The only depressing part comes later when the house is empty again and the mail man brings the credit card statement.  But for another group of folks, the holidays can be overwhelmingly depressing and sad.  Perhaps it is because of the economy or the fact that the "season" is so commercialized in many ways.  Maybe it's because someone has lost a family member or a dear friend.  In my case, the "interruption" of life from going through a divorce can have a long-lasting impact. Heck, even people who appear to have their lives all together can at times feel sadness at one time or another during the month of celebrating.  To pretend that it doesn't happen and that everything is "ok" as I did for 7 long years, certainly doesn't help out in any way.

One of the most "freeing" things that I have ever written about as I've been blogging for the past 18 months is being able to admit that there are sometimes when depression "sinks its teeth into me" and refuses to let go.  And as I write about it, things get better with the acknowledgement that sometimes it's a problem.  I always kind of liken it to being chased by a monster that always has you on a "dead run" and finally one day you just stop running and you turn yourself around and ask the monster "WHAT?" Perhaps as you read this, you may find yourself in these words as well.  If so, take solace in this thought~You really aren't alone.  It's tough to go through but somehow or another, we always find a way to make it through.

Take care of yourselves this good day friends.....and thank you for being my friends, one and all.  The world would seem pretty empty without you guys in it.  

                    Me and Obie~Christmas afternoon of 2010.  If she were only that little now! My life was saved by a little round head cat and to the "truest of friends" that I met because of Oblio, I will always give my "thanks".

If I can just make it through the winter time~

I was finishing the last few steps of my daily mile-long walk last Sunday morning, when I couldn't help but to notice it.  With an outside air temperature of 35 degrees and the weatherman's promise of some kind of precipitation somewhere in Kansas, the fact that "winter" is waiting on the corner, one block down from us all,  kind of just smacked me right in the face.  And as I gazed up into the now nearly barren branches of the two Bradford pear trees in my front yard, I soberly realized that the "Indian Summer" days that we had been enjoying in the past few weeks, would soon be gone and winter's presence would thus be felt.  Not sure why, but it was a horribly sad feeling for me.

Those two trees were planted years ago now as a gift for my mom on Mother's Day.  Since my front yard used to be "her front yard", I've been able to watch them continue to grow, now for almost 8 years.  I watch with excitement in the very early days of spring for the first sign of the lovely blossoms they send forth. When they are fully in bloom, it is as if they are covered in snow and that springtime show lasts for the better part of a couple of weeks.  In the summer, they provide a great deal of shade and protection for the house as well as the perfect place for birds and squirrels to get into squabbles with one another.  In the autumn, the tiny ornamental pears provide food for the squirrels to munch on and the side walk is continually littered by them.  On occasion, they toss the remnants down on unsuspecting people below as a good friend and I found out a few weeks back as we stood talking with one another one Sunday morning on the side walk.  And then, well then there's winter.

You know I'm pretty sure that there has never been a time when I have felt enamored with winter.  Truth is, if I had a dollar for every time I said the phrase, "I hate winter!", then I would have a lot of dollars.  Between blizzards and cold north winds, bouts with sleet and/or freezing rain, and the need to put on 7 layers of clothing in order to stay dry and warm, well winter has generally rated itself right up there with olives, raisins and milk on Peggy Miller's "Things I do not like!" list.

I do not know where my disdain for winter time actually was born.  Perhaps it was back in the days of growing up on a farm when all of us were expected to do our share of chores, both inside and out.  Let me tell you, I can't think of anything worse than carrying a pail of water to the chickens when the temperature outdoors hovers at the freezing mark.  Try as I might, I would undoubtedly spill water somewhere on me and it always seemed a race against the elements to return inside before my clothes froze to my body.  If we somehow misplaced the only pair of mittens or gloves we had, then we had to put socks on over our hands to protect them.  I can still remember waiting for the bus to pick us up at the end of the driveway, my hands stuffed in my pockets so no one would see what I was wearing for gloves.  But you know what?  It only took a couple of humiliating times of not taking care of your "hand protection" before you did a whole lot better job of being responsible with things.  And for that "life lesson" I thank my parents.  They knew what they were doing.

As an adult, I've found that winter can turn out to be a depressing 3 months + span of time.  As we return to the "old time" and the sun sets quicker every day, I notice the "winter blues" starting to show.  I need sunlight, heck we ALL need sunlight and when there SEEMS to be less each day (and for good reason, there IS) it can bring on a lot of "let down feelings".  I used to think I was just plain weird because all around me, my friends saying things like "Oh, I just love the snow! Don't you?"  My answer, the cleaned up version, "No, not really!"  Then I read about Seasonal Affective Disorder and it began to make sense to me.  I wasn't so weird after all.

It goes by a lot of names, names like "the winter blues", "seasonal depression", or "wintertime depression".  But whatever it is called, Seasonal Affective Disorder can affect people in various ways.   Some of the more common symptoms of SAD include sleeping more, feeling lethargic during the day, over eating with a craving for more carbohydrates, feeling sad or moody and generally, just losing interest in doing much of anything.  I see myself in this and recognize when those feelings start to crop up and rear their "ugly heads". After having visited with many friends who share my times of depression,  I take solace in the fact that I am not alone as well as the fact that winter time doesn't really last forever~it only SEEMS like it does.

Really, the only way to get through it is just THAT~you have to get through it.  I keep more lights burning at home rather than just sitting in the dark all the time.  I have learned it's beneficial to take on new interests in the winter time months, ones that necessitate being done from the dining room table like scrap booking.  When it really gets bad, I just drag out all of the seed catalogues and dream of what to plant when the springtime rolls around again, and friends it WILL come back.  In the week's time that has passed since my walk last weekend, we have enjoyed some pretty decent weather and I have made every effort I could to be out in it.  The time between now and the winter solstice will fly by quickly so I intend to soak up all the sunshine I can.

One time last January, I read a story that was called "Wintertime Fun" to a group of first graders.  They were "oohing" and "ahhing" at every picture that showed a snowman being built or kids on their sleds flying headlong down a steep hill.  I was trying my best to act excited about it but I have learned you can't fool 6-year olds more than once.  One of them asked me if I liked winter and of course, because I try to tell the truth when dealing with kids, I said politely, "No.  Not very much!"  Never will forget what that little kid said back to me~"Well that's 'cause you are probably too old, Mrs. Miller.  If you were little kids like us, you'd say it was fun!"

Given the current drought conditions, not only in my home state of Kansas, but much of the midwest and elsewhere, I think this is a good time for a change in my "anti-winter" attitude.  Although cold, wet and sometimes blowing and drifting snow is a pain in the behind for me, the conversion charts don't lie.  For every 10 inches of snow, 1 inch of water goes into the parched and dry soil.  A good cover of snow actually insulates the ground below and protects the roots of trees and plants.  Snow contains nitrogen, which helps to improve the composition of the soil.  And Ok, Ok, I will say this~that fluffy white stuff, at least from the confines of your living room sofa with nowhere else to go for a day or two, does actually look beautiful as it lays upon the ground.  Having admitted to all of the above, I guess it's time to declare a "truce" with winter.  Although we will never be "B.F.F"s forever, I think I can manage to live with it.

Have a good evening friends and enjoy life to its fullest!

The beauty of a Bradford Pear tree in full bloom-early spring time.  The Creator of all of this knew exactly what to do and surely as the "Good Book" and the song says, "to everything there is a season."

If you are able to read this, then be sure to thank a teacher~

The NEA (National Education Association) set aside the week of November 11-17 as "American Education Week", and today on the last "official day" of that celebration I have been remembering all of the fine teachers that I have had over the course of many years.  Although this cause for celebration is to honour all of the many public school teachers throughout the land, I would be more than remiss to not mention the fact that there are many private and home-school teachers who are doing a tremendous job with students as well.  For 35 years, I have been an educator of children and young adults.  I cannot imagine having a job that would have been of a higher calling.  And for me it all started out, long , long ago in the little, Harvey County town of Burrton, Kansas with a kindergarten teacher and a class of 30 children.  Her story is my story~


She had the most beautiful red fingernails with lipstick that always matched and the wonderful scent of drug store cologne was all about her.  Her dresses and shoes always coordinated perfectly and I can never recall a hair out of place.  Her name was Josephine Marmont, but to the kids in the 1960-61 kindergarten class of Burrton Grade School, she would always be known as "Miss Marmont".  Although it's been half of a century ago that she was my teacher, I still remember her as if it were yesterday and I will forever marvel at the way she taught us all.

In Miss Marmont's world there was no technology~no computers or "Smart Boards", no digital cameras or cell phones.  Heck, there wasn't even a white board to use a dry erase marker on.  Her "domain" was pretty simple and it involved an entire wall that was dedicated to the antiquated teaching tool formerly known as "the black board".  There was a piano, smack dab in the middle of the room, because in addition to being our kindergarten teacher she was the music teacher, art teacher, and PE teacher for the kindergarten kids as well.  She single-
handedly took care of 30 children all under the age of 6 without the assistance of an aide of any kind.  Jo Marmont was it~and for the start she gave me and my classmates, we should all be beholden.

Way back then, we learned our alphabet (big and little letters as we referred to them), the numbers MAYBE to 50, and how to write our names, well at least our first names.  My little friends and I learned how to sit still and listen to a story, how to take a nap when told, the joy of making a mess while finger painting, and how to use our best manners when it became time for our mid-day snack.  

I will always maintain that by far the best thing that I ever learned while under Miss Marmont's "charge" was to learn how to get along with everyone else.  Josephine Marmont was teaching "character education" long before it became the popular movement of today.  If we did something naughty, we were expected to be honest and admit it.  If we saw someone who was having a sad day, then we were admonished to make them our new "best friend".  And above all else, when it came to hurting someone's feelings.....well, that just wasn't tolerated.  I learned that the hard way when I refused to let Tommy Elmore be my partner one day as we were learning to do a strange dance called the "Virginia Reel".  It was an embarrassing moment for me, to be sure.  Yet, I learned the life lesson that states, "You best not exclude anyone else and let Miss Marmont catch you doing it."  And to Tommy Elmore, wherever he may have ended up, Peggy Scott FINALLY apologizes.  

You know, I never really set out in this life of mine to be an educator.  Actually, not even in my wildest dreams as an elementary, middle or high school student would I have imagined it.  But here I am, a now 57-year old teacher who came back out of "retirement" 3 years ago to see if I could make a difference somewhere in the life of a child. I have always told my students, those way back in my first year of teaching in 1979 as well as the ones I am teaching today in the year 2012 this one very important thing~

"If you forget everything else that you have ever learned from me~I hope you will always remember that I want you to grow up and treat everyone around you with respect and kindness, to be good to one another despite your differences.  That's what will make me happy for you."
              ~the "gospel" according to Mrs. Miller~

And the one thing I am sure of is this~ A now sainted woman named Josephine taught me that lesson as well.  See there Miss Marmont?  I really WAS paying attention!  The little girl that I "used" to be and the woman that I grew into...well, they both still love you very much.

Have a great Friday evening family and friends!  Peace for all of you in life.

Josephine Marmont and the kindergarten class of Burrton Grade School, 1960-61. We were "her" kids and she loved us.  Miss Marmont was the best "kid wrangler" I ever knew of!  There I am, front row to the right~She has her hand on my collar because she "loves me" not because I'm fidgeting around or anything.  That little guy on the front row, left~well, that's Tommy Elmore.  He probably would have been a great dance partner for the Virginia Reel but on that fateful day a long time ago, that little shy girl that I used to be wasn't having anything to do with it.  :)  Kids!
  

In the blink of an eye~

http://bkjs.tumblr.com/post/35319671660/i-wrote-this-3-years-ago-in-memory-of-my-sweet-dad


Good morning dear friends and family out there!  

5 years ago this day, my older brother Mike, lost his life to ALS~Lou Gehrig's Disease.  In the short 3-week span of time between his diagnosis until his death, all of us in his family got a "crash course" in what Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis really meant.  It was a tough lesson to learn but we did.  I so admire the way in which my sister-in-law Paula and my niece Jessica and nephew Christopher were able to help him make it back home for his final precious days of life in Haven.  And to the town of Haven, Kansas~you guys, one and all, supported every single thing, each decision that was made on behalf of my brother's well-being.  You were there, when needed the VERY most.  Is it any wonder that, even though I haven't lived there for over 20 years,  I still respond when asked, "Where are you from?", my answer shall always be "Haven".

I have included a link to a wonderful story that my niece wrote about her dad a couple of years back.  I posted it to my Facebook page yesterday but am also choosing to include it on this blog post.  Her words are more eloquent than any I could think of this day, so if you have not already read it, please do so now if you would.  

He was the brother who gave me my very first and ONLY Barbie doll for Christmas, who lent his car to a friend in order that his little sister (that'd be me) could go out on her very first date and the one who shared his love for the music of a singer/songwriter named Dan Fogelberg.  Mike Scott's life counted for something in this world~and if you are reading this, then he would want you to know that your life counts for something as well.  Please friends, don't waste a precious moment of life this day.  Much love to all of you from him and from me.

"Give Mom and Dad a hug for me, will you? See you in Heaven some day, Mike."  

UPON REMEMBERING THE FALLEN~

The summer of 1967 surely seems like long ago and I guess with good reason~45 years have passed since that time when I was only a 12-year old girl growing up in the small Reno County town of Haven, Kansas.  It was a summer that I will never forget and every time that I visit Laurel Cemetery just outside of Haven, I remember.  

Located in the far eastern part of the cemetery, not so very far apart, are the graves of two young men from the town of Haven who gave their lives in service of their country in the Vietnam War. Casualties of the war, each of the young men lost their lives less than a week apart from one another.  Every time I go to visit the cemetery, I always find myself stopping off at their graves. And it doesn't matter that nearly half of a century is soon to have passed, I still find myself at times with a lump in my throat as I read the inscriptions on their gravestones.  The last time I was there, an Indian summer day in late October, I took these pictures.

Sergio Albert was the first to die.  His death on the 12th of June that year was a huge shock to the little town of Haven.  The war in southeast Asia had been going on for a long time and somehow or another even though many young men from the area had been called up for duty, our town had escaped losing one of its own.  Sergio's death, at age 25, changed all of that.  It was a sobering thought to everyone, especially the 12-year girl that I used to be.  His grave is covered by a slab of granite, inscribed with a portion of one of the last letters he wrote home to his family.  I still get chills down my spine any time that I read it, as shown below.

Henry Lee Fisher was the second to die.  He had graduated with my older sister's class at Haven in 1965.  Barely out of high school two years, he was killed a couple of weeks after his 20th birthday.  In  my mind he will always be the same young man whose senior picture is displayed with all of the rest of his classmates in the halls of Haven High School and not the 65-year old man that he would have been today.  Both Henry and Sergio~gone way too soon.

I had the chance to tell their stories to a group of students I was working with at school during one of their reading sessions.  You see, the story that the kids were reading was about Veteran's Day and they were having a really hard time understanding what it all meant and how it affected them in any way.  Sadly, the group that I was working with had never even realized what Veteran's Day meant or who might even be considered a veteran.  After I shared what had happened to the two "fallen" from Haven, they began to understand a little bit better and even began to ask questions.  And although those students are not yet experts on the subject, when Sunday the 11th of November comes around, they will have at least heard the term "Veteran's Day".  And for that, I am glad.

I seldom have spoken  much about how I felt about the Vietnam War,  and I call it a "war" even though it was never officially declared by the United States as one, but I am at a point in time where I have finally come to "peace" with my feelings of it.  By the end of the U.S. involvement there, our country's casualties alone set at 58,220 KIA (killed in action) with 303,644 wounded.  Put into perspective, the death toll was the equivalent of all of the citizens of my community of Hutchinson, Kansas plus the citizenry of our neighbours to the east, Newton.   I know that the prospect of war is inevitable and sometimes a necessary evil but I will never believe that our country should have been there~I didn't believe it then and I do not believe it today.  And even having said all of that, my heart is filled with pride for the young men and women who gave their lives in Vietnam as well as for those who have served there.  It's a strange feeling to have actually and I just pray that we never have to face such a thing again.

Last year on the occasion of my 56th birthday, I got my first ever tattoo.  (yeah, yeah, yeah...who would have thought?)  I decided that if I ever were to get a tattoo, it would be one that would help to tell a story about something important to me that had happened in my life.  If someone were to ask me what it stood for, that I could help them learn one of life's lessons by explaining it.  That's why I got the tattoo shown below, last October 26th.

Long ago in the land of far, far away~there was a young teenage girl (that'd be me) who joined many of her other classmates in high school by wearing POW bracelets.  Those bracelets had inscribed upon them the name, rank, branch of service, and date of disappearance of prisoners of war in Vietnam and the rest of southeast Asia.  I wore mine faithfully, never taking it off, for over 5 years.  Only when it finally broke into two pieces, did I have to put it away in a jewelry case.  But you know, I NEVER forgot the name of the man on my bracelet~LCMDR Lee Nordahl.  Now, I have yet to understand how I could remember his name for over 40 years.  Geesch, in the last week alone I have forgotten numerous times where I put my school keys, cell phone, and the latest victim to Peggy Miller's forgetfulness, my computer charger.  The best I could explain it, the name of that POW, Lee Nordahl, meant something special to me.  And if telling his story means that a new generation of "12-year olds" gains an understanding of what went on in that time so very long ago, then I gladly do so.  

This Sunday, the 11th of November, is Veteran's Day.  It is named such in order that all people who have served in the armed forces, those who were killed and those who lived, should be honoured.  No matter how we might feel about war, my sincere hope would be that we continue to honour those who have given it all for their country as well as those who have served or still serve today.  It is my belief that we owe them that~thus to them I say "thank you" for your service.  And as the "Good Book" says in John 15:13, "no greater love hath a man than this...that he would lay down his life for a friend."  Good night friends and family~please dear ones take care of yourselves and also one another.  This has been Thursday, the 8th day of November in the year 2012 and truly such a great day to be alive in!  May peace be all of our journeys.  

UPON THOSE TIMES WHEN YOU JUST NEED A LITTLE REMINDER~

Sunday night brought us to the end of a beautiful weekend here in south central Kansas.  The weather has been about as good as you can imagine with temperatures in the 60's and 70's.  The days ahead of us look pretty fair for at least until the end of the week.  Except for the fact that we could use some moisture in the worst way, we surely have nothing to complain about as far as life goes here in Reno County, Kansas.  We remember the folks back east that are still reeling from the effects of Hurricane Sandy.  When I filled up the gas tank of my Honda Civic yesterday afternoon, I had no trouble whatsoever finding an available gas pump at the local Kwik Shop. Come to think of it, I have no idea how much I paid a gallon yesterday~didn't even matter to me I suppose.  I inserted my credit card and in no time at all, I was driving away with a full tank.  Somewhere this past weekend in New Jersey, someone waited in line for whatever gasoline they could manage to get.  And we who live in Kansas are so very blessed.

I have had the occasion this weekend to be reminded of the fact of just how much stuff my house here on 14th Street contains therein.  Friends, I don't have JUST plenty, I have MORE than a plenty.  I've watched the reports on CNN, read articles, both online and in our local newspaper, that tell the story of family after family that have lost it all in the recent hurricane.  One woman, returning to the burned out neighbourhood that she used to call "home", had returned back just to see if she could find one piece, ONE PIECE, of something should could recognize as her own.  When a reporter covering her story managed to locate what appeared to be the remains of a broken dish, the woman held it close to her heart as if it were a long lost family member and she wept.

I joined a site on Facebook called "Help Owego/Apalachin Rebuild" last May before I made my "bucket list" trip to Maine.  Owego, NY is a wonderfully beautiful little village that was inundated by the flood waters of the mighty Susquehanna River in September of 2011.  After the waters receded and the damage was assessed, the clean up began.  Owego residents were determined to get things back in order as quickly as they could.  With hard work, they began to reclaim their village again.  When I arrived there for a couple days' visit on my way to Maine, I had no idea what I would find.  I had heard stories of how bad the flooding was and truly in my mind I imagined that I might find a community where people had just given up.  Quite to the contrary, Owego was "open for business" and it was apparent that this little place was not quitting and certainly not surrendering to the effects of the over flowing Susequehanna.  Because the folks of Owego and the rest of Tioga County know what it's like to go through a disaster of this nature, they are some of the first ones to be stepping up and volunteering aid and assistance to those affected by Hurricane Sandy.  Reading their Facebook page is very heart warming as you see the generous offers of money, materials, and time these folks, barely a year ago the recipients themselves, have given to those who really need it.  There are lots of good people in this place we call home, be they New Yorkers or Kansans or from anywhere else in between. A natural disaster might give it a good try, but the bottom line is this~ The remarkable and quite resilient human spirit cannot be squelched~

I reread through some of my bucket list posts from earlier in the year and came across one from February 22nd.  I had been reading a lot about the "travelling light" movement and had begun my own quest to see if it was something I should be considering in my life.  Although I haven't seriously considered it for several months now, I think I am at the point in time where I will begin to revisit it once more.  How much is enough?  Will there EVER be enough?  What can a person be truly happy with?  What could I easily do without if I just allowed myself to let go of it?

Below is that particular post, written 9 months ago now.  It was called "The Over My Dead Body List".  I'm glad that I wrote it then and equally glad that I reread it today.  I have been so blessed, beyond even my wildest of dreams. I hope the same for you my dear friends!  It never hurts to get a little "reminder", hey even a "wake up call" as to just how fortunate you really are.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

The "over my dead body" list

Back a couple of months ago, I began to think about this idea of "travelling light" and how it could benefit me and make my life so much easier to manage.  I read up on something that my daughter Ursela had told me about, "The 100 Thing Challenge", a movement started a few years back by a man named Dave Bruno.  Dave's challenge is for all of us to think about how much stuff we have accumulated over the years and then "pare down" our belongings to the 100 things that we would need and want the most in this life.  Now that's quite a challenge, one that many people across the country are trying to do at this very moment.

I love the motto of the "100 thing" movement~

Reduce-Get rid of all the stuff that you really don't need or want.
Refuse-Say "NO" to buying more stuff to replace the stuff that you just got rid of.
Rejigger-Start thinking about your priorities.  What's more important in your life?  What is that you have to have?  What amount will ever be enough?

Being so intrigued by the idea of "downsizing my life", I put the wish to learn how to "travel light" on the "Miller Bucket List" this time.  Between now and May 1st, I am going to be trying my best to decide what I have that I can surely live without as well as stuff that will forever be on the "over my dead body" list.  And friends, I've already begun!

It all started a couple of nights ago with 4 different sets of kitchen canisters that I own.  For the past 3 years they have sat proudly atop the kitchen cabinets for all to see as well as collect a tremendously big amount of dust.  They never really did what canister sets are supposed to do, you know hold flour, sugar, salt, etc.  I'd have to be a cook/baker for that to be needed and since I'm not, the main job of the canisters was to just "look nice" there.  And I guess, for all intents and purposes they did.  But it just seemed crazy to me that I had 4 different sets of them that were doing absolutely no good and most certainly were serving no worthy purpose!  So it was time to get rid of them.  On a whim, I listed them on the Reno County Buy, Sell and Trade site on Facebook and within 1 hour every single one of them was sold and my pockets were $40 richer.

I have to admit that it felt a little weird at first to be taking them down, washing them up, and then giving them to a complete stranger.  And for one brief second in time, I panicked and thought "Oh wow, now what am I going to put up in those big empty spots?"  But after my good sense returned to me, I realized that it was "OK" for there to be an empty spot, or two, or four.  By the next day, I didn't even notice they were missing and got to tell you-It felt kind of nice!

The canisters are just the beginning, as room by room I am trying to determine what are really the most important things to me.  Amazingly enough, I've already found many things that made me wonder why I even bought them in the first place.  Yet for everything that I find that could be gotten rid of, there are an equal amount of things that will always find their place in Peggy Miller's "over my dead body" pile.  

Take my set of 33 1/3 record albums for example....You know, I counted them tonight and came up with this magic number of 72.  Sorry, but you kids of today...you don't know what you missed by not growing up in an age where $3.97 would buy you one heck of a record album.  They were played on this thing called a "record player" and IF you were really loaded with money as a kid, you might get lucky enough to buy the early day version of a stereo system.  I'll never forget my first one...bought for about $20.00 at the local Gibson's store here in Hutch.  Had to save a lot of tip money from my job as a waitress at my folk's cafe...but I did.  By today's standards, it would be considered a child's toy but to the 16-year old girl that I used to be, it was a piece of Heaven.  

I drug all of those albums out tonight from the wooden crate I normally keep them in and took a look back in time to the 1970's.  Oh wow, what memories~Jim Croce, Harry Chapin, John Denver, Three Dog Night, the Moody Blues, Santana, the original soundtrack from Woodstock, Joe Cocker, Neil Diamond, James Taylor and my favorite group from all time, Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young and so many more.  There were albums in that box that I had long ago forgotten and it was kind of fun to at least see their beautiful yet very worn record covers and the inside jackets that the album always fit into.  Even though I no longer have any way to play them, there is no way on earth and definitely over my dead body, would I willingly part with them....no matter how much they might be worth to another.  

Going through the albums tonight at home with my very favorite album of all time, Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young's "Deja Vu".  Their music is still very appealing and any song they sang was great.  My favorite of all times, "Suite:  Judy Blue Eyes".

The 80's found me listening to REO Speedwagon, 38 Special and Phil Collins/Genesis.  The 90's, well about the only group I liked from there was Matchbox 20.  In 2000 and beyond...hmm, can't rightly recall any group or singer that I liked.  For this child of the '70s, there just was no other music that could compare to that of my generation so I guess that means I'm kind of stuck back there in the "land of long ago and so very far away."  Hey, not complaining because it would actually be a pretty good place to be stuck in.  Memories, inspired by the music, are very precious to me.  Would not trade my albums or the memories for all of the money in the world.  They are priceless.

I must say, I kind of like this idea of travelling light.  Think I could start to get used to it pretty dang quickly.  By the way dear friends, each of you out there...you are at the top of the "over my dead body" pile.  Wouldn't trade your friendship for anything and I most certainly mean it!  :)

Have a great evening my friends...Good Night!