Watching The Tide Roll Away

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For those who don’t know, I can get a bit obsessed with walking shorelines in search of my favorite beach treasure, sea glass. I’ve set an alarm and been out long before the morning sun, and I’ve been out late in the evening, depending on tide schedules.

I’ll stroll the same beach as many times in a day as our schedule allows.

I’ll wear or use whatever Mother Nature requires, a raincoat, umbrella, rubber boots, earmuffs, and I’ve even needed a flashlight. I always pack these options.

This post’s title is a line from, “The Dock of the Bay.” My recent holiday’s theme song.

As soon as I got to the water’s edge this tune played over and over in my mind. Its melody, the salty sea air, and the lapping waves put me at peace and kept me company if I was alone.

In October, one of my brothers and sisters, and their spouses did a road trip to Vancouver Island, British Columbia with Mister and I. All of us had been to most of the places we visited, but never together as adults, and the others hadn’t been on the island in years.

Those interested in joining Mister and I were warned that I had an agenda for this trip. Being a coastline journey I was going for ocean-views every night or as often as possible, even if the cost per night was higher than normal rooms. Everyone was game.

I did the route planning, online research and reservations. The family refers to me as their personal travel agent and guide. The pay sucks, but it’s a hat I enjoy wearing as long as things go well. I lied, their smiles are pay enough.

Something I’ve learnt during previous travels is many coastline accommodations are private motels and hotels. Owning such prime real-estate means they remain successful and rarely sell out to the big new chains. We enjoy the uniqueness of these often older places, but I rely on reviews when checking their condition and upkeep.

Either I did a good job booking, or this group was easy to please, or they pretended to be, because I heard minimal complaining. Rooms were clean, had comfortable beds, and a few exceeded our expectations.

Out of fourteen nights away, 11 had water views.

They were steps from the ocean’s edge. Some rooms overlooked marinas, (my brother and I have a boat fetish) others had open coast lines, some with sandy shores, and some with rugged rocks.

For me, it’s hard to top waking up to these views.

Something odd happened though, I’ve never slept so much and done so little exploring on a trip. Typically, I’m a let’s go here, let’s do this kind of traveler. I have a hard time sitting and relaxing when I’m somewhere other than home.

We had a busy summer, so perhaps down-time was needed to recharge or maybe the cold I caught on day two and the medicine I took affected me. Whatever it was, wasting hours which I could have spent, even if just, enjoying the scenery unsettled me. Yet, I usually went to bed long before my normal time and slept later, often missing the sunrise.

The main goal for the trip was for the six of us to spend time together, and this we achieved. We joined each other for meals, and sometimes for beach walks. Of course no trip is complete for females without some clothes and other shopping. But, we weren’t the only ones who purchased items.

The group liked to snoop through local shops, which we did wherever we were. That resulted in a few found treasures, the biggest (literally) being the large wooden sail boat ornament my brother bought.

Since we all live in Alberta, having fresh seafood was a must on the list to do. By the time we got home some complained they were getting, chowdered-out, as we called it. Not me, fish was my main food source while we were gone, and I miss it. But, not as much as I miss walking the shores.

Do you prefer privately owned Motels or Hotels or large popular chains?

Are you an Explorer or Relaxer while on vacation?

The next two posts will have tips for those who may find themselves traveling on our same path.

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Pre-book Accommodations or Wing-it?

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Mister and I use to wing-it for accommodations when traveling, we didn’t like to schedule the exact where and when.

This habit began way back when the kids and I would go along on Mister’s business trips. He didn’t always know how long or how many daily stops he would make so it was easier to wait and choose where to stay each night.

Plus, we preferred to see properties in person, rather than rely on phonebook listings or brochures which usually used out-of-date pictures.

Some may find this next detail hard to imagine and the concept may make some shutter.

The wing-it days I refer to started before the biggest world change I’ve witnessed in my life, so far.

It was back when people didn’t own home computers, laptops, iPads, notebooks, or cell phones with internet. Heck, back then we never heard of Google. A handheld GPS was better known as a, map.

Now, with internet at our fingertips, even-though you can’t believe everything on there, I feel with enough research and weeding through reviews you can get a pretty good idea about a place.

And so, we made a habit change for our last few holidays. I pre-booked accommodations for all or most nights we were away. The main reason was, a couple places were popular enough that if we hadn’t had reservations, we would have been hooped.

Unexpected upsides came with having nightly reservations.

We never pulled into a town or city tired and possibly in the dark and then had to search for a place to stay. We also never stopped too early because uncertain of what the next town would offer. Both these may sound trivial, but believe me, Mister and I have shared many cranky episodes regarding these points in the past.

Do we ever pass places we would like to stay at while on our way to one we’ve booked? Yes, but we’ve also driven through towns that if winging-it we would have been disappointed and moving on down the road.

Another bonus to pre-booking is becoming aware of local events that may mean places are full. I can’t count the number of times while winging-it we would arrive somewhere, towns or cities we had stayed before and knew they had lots of choices, only to find a concert or sport event had everything jammed.

Our trip planning starts with a basic route or a particular destination in mind. Using the internet, I research sights along the way and estimate the time it will take to drive and see the ones that interest us. Considering that information, I’ll check 2-3 towns or cities we would be near at about 2-5pm each day. I like to look for unique Hotels, or Motels but we have some well-known chains we like too. I’ll make my choice after reading reviews on numerous websites.

If the trip isn’t for a while, and it’s required, we always pay the couple dollars extra for, get this, free cancelation. Smiley face.

Pre-booking still causes me occasional trepidation, but there is also the excitement that we could stumble on a hidden treasure of a place, which has happened. By this I mean, an establishment that its curb appeal might have us driving past, but by reading reviews we’ve booked, stayed and have been pleasantly surprised.

Knock on wood, we also haven’t been disappointed to the point where we’ve had to move to a different premise.

For now we’re enjoying this new way of travel, but I’m also sure we’ll do a wing-it trip again. If and when though, I’ll use the internet to research and list possibilities along the route.

I’ve also tried doing reservations a couple days ahead while on the road, but this meant evenings were spent researching and booking, and I felt it took away from the trip.

Do you pre-book trip accommodations or wing-it as you go?

Do you prefer privately owned motels or big hotel chains?

What is the biggest worldly change that has occurred during your life, so far?

 

Gorilla Tape Saves The Holiday

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A recent fall journey began with an evening rain shower that turned to snow during the night. By morning enough white stuff accumulated to require a snow-brush and ice scraper to clean off T.C. (our van), but the roads were bare and all participants woke raring to go.

Taking a road-trip while the beautiful fall colors are out is so worth leaving shorts and sandals behind and packing bulkier and a bit more clothing. Mister and I love to travel at this time of the year.

The luggage stowed inside was for two siblings (myself and one of my brothers) and two outlaws (our spouses). Not to worry, there was more bags than what you see above by the time we returned. (Insert Smiley face here).

Us four have traveled together before. To Las Vegas and last summer we explored the Washington and Oregon coast. This time we headed to Canada’s west coast and Vancouver Island. Our numbers increased to six though on the second day when one of my sister’s and her husband met up and joined us.

The weather system that brought the overnight snow was small, so it wasn’t long into the drive before even the fields and ditches were bare again.

Unfortunately, the trip started like no other; it started with a bang, and not a good kind.

An hour and a half after we set out two animals appeared from nowhere, and as a pair they ran across the highway in front of us. Mister slammed on the brakes which gave the lead one just enough time to escape, but nothing could be done to avoid hitting the second.

Tears filled my eyes as I walked back to check the animal lying motionless on the pavement, knowing very well its state. I apologized to it and hoped death came in an instant so it suffered no pain.

Within seconds Mister appeared behind me and pulled the body out from the path of oncoming traffic. I’m not sure I could have done that.

No humans were injured. The van’s under shroud was ripped off, and a good portion of the front end was either cracked, or broken. Lucky for us though, the air bags didn’t go off, the headlights remained intact, and although the air conditioning radiator was dented T.C. ran fine. Damages were all cosmetic.

Nothing could change what happened, and with a highway not being the safest place to hangout we all got back inside and headed for the next town.

Mister and I stood in the mall parking lot while he made the appropriate phone calls. My brother ran into a store and bought a roll of Gorilla tape. It was needed to hold dandling and vibrating pieces safely in place, so we could continue on our way.

As a side note, this was our first time using Gorilla tape, and we were impressed by its strength and staying power through rain and winds.

My superstitious nature kicked in often during the next fourteen days as I worried about the, “Bad things happen in three’s,” theory. Then, I would hear my mother’s words, “Things happen for a reason.” Perhaps that delay saved us from a more severe incident, we will never know for sure. With us all safe at home now, I can report any other mishaps were minor compared to our start.

I intended to post sights and finds on my blog while on this trip, but the ocean always beckoned for me to spend my spare time strolling the shores.

Truth be known, I need little encouragement to do just that.

The only writing I did while on the road was in our daily travel journal. This is a practice I’ve done for years now. We enjoy looking back on the information, to reminisce, or use it to reference things when revisiting an area.

Do you keep a travel journal?

Can superstitions unsettle you?

Have you ever had a rough start to a holiday? If so, did you continue or turn back?

 

It Happened Again

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The Daughter spotted this little gem coming home on the school bus 20 years ago. Classic vehicles have always had a place in our hearts, so she could barely wait until Mister got home from work to tell him about the truck she discovered for sale.

It took little persuading to get the family to take a drive after supper that night, and that is how and when, the appropriately named “Blue” joined our family.

The kids and I kept him clean and polished while Mister looked after the mechanical end. A joint effort which resulted in him always running great and looking his best, whether at a Show and Shine, or out on a drive.

One of our favorite trips to take with this guy was the few miles into town for ice cream. Habits and laws changed significantly in the last twenty years. Back then it wasn’t illegal to ride in the box of a truck. So our family of four had different combinations of who was in Blue’s cab and who was in his box, the only constant being Mister always drove. I can manage manual transmissions, but I’m not a big fan.

After the daughter got her license, she asked Mister to teach her how to drive, a standard like Blue. The lesson ended in her frustrated because of the hill we lived on. She spun his tires, popped his clutch, and stalled his motor numerous times before, Blue, made it back up into the shop.

In typical boy fashion, when the son became old enough he mastered Blue’s three in the tree manual with fewer issues.

That’s okay, us girls were quite content being passengers.

When other kids at school wanted limos picking them up from their grade 12 grad supper, our daughter requested, Blue, for her ride home with Mister as the driver.

Over the years, lives got busier, and car show outings became none existent. Sadly, a couple recent summers passed without, Blue, even coming out of the shop.

Last month he made his first trip to our place at the lake, mind you he came by trailer. Having the original straight six engine means he really isn’t ideal for hours on a busy four lane highway at today’s speeds.

Why hadn’t we taken him before? Because we don’t have a garage here.

Why did we bring him this year? Because there was a Show and Shine nearby.

He’s won his share of trophies, and didn’t disappoint, winning “Best Truck” at that outing.

The reason for this post though is because, Blue, went to that show with a “For Sale” sign resting on his seat, and like, General, in my “Heart Of Steel” post he is now sold.

This is a big change for the family, and we will all miss him, but just because he’s not up in the shop anymore doesn’t mean our memories of him will fade.

It’s time for someone else to enjoy this little treasure, and Mister and I felt good about the fellow who bought him.

Of course, there was sadness, but we were also surprised by something else we experienced.

We were reminded of one of Mister’s father’s favorite sayings, and how true it has become, “The more things you own, the more headaches you have.”

To the young or perhaps not retired this may seem exaggerated.

How can just owning something  be a headache or cause stress?

It’s hard to say whether it’s all money related or if a downsizing syndrome has kicked in, but decreasing yearly insurance fees and having less to worry about maintaining has brought us some peace.

So, as emotional as it was to part with first, General, and now, Blue, Mister and I feel it was the right thing for us to do.

Don’t be afraid of a, less is more, lifestyle.

For us the benefits have been similar to what is said about cleaning a cluttered home, and how it gives you a clearer focus and a more restful mind.

Have you downsized and found your stress has lessened?

Heart Of Steel

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His name is, General, and I teared up writing this post. He isn’t a horse, family dog, or a cat. No blood pumps through his veins, oils keep his heart of steel alive. To some, he might be just a heap of metal, but twenty years in our family, means hundreds of memories are attached to this truck.

Our family names their vehicles, and often when we talk of them, it’s like we’re referring to a person. Odd as it may sound, we even find these metal additions have unique quirts which give them personalities.

You know those multi picture frames people use for family photos, Mister has them for vehicles he’s owned since we’ve been together.

We even shared our wedding day with one of our classics. No, actually the customized 1958 Pontiac Parisienne probably starred in more pictures than Mister and I did that day.

General, is one of two we’ve owned the longest. The other is an antique only driven occasionally, whereas for years, General was the work horse. He pulled holiday, horse, or flat-deck trailers and hauled whatever daily life required. He took the family on tons of vacations and road trips, crossing borders and racking up miles, never once leaving us stranded.

He was the grandkids favorite to take for their driving test, labeled the lucky truck by the oldest who passed on her first try.

Mister got a new truck replacing, General, years ago. That’s when his duties and demands became less and less. He was our daughter’s daily driver for a spell and a back-up vehicle for the son from time to time. For about a year now though, he only started when the lawn beneath him needed cutting.

General’s mileage is up there, a couple patches of rust tint his white paint, and he has a few minor hail dints. Yet, his motor purrs, his oils stay level, and his interior shows little wear.

He still has life in him, so the difficult decision to sell him was made.

With our minds made up, Mister and I still seemed to put off advertising him but then I thought to send a niece a message. Her having a family of teens, I thought maybe one of her kid’s friends might need a faithful first vehicle.

It turned out their son needed something reliable to get to and from college.

As sad as it was to part with this truck his story has an interesting twist. The first family trip we took in, General, when he was new was to this young man’s parents wedding.

Him buying, General, made it a tiny bit easier for our family to part with him.

Items of sentimental value don’t have to be expensive heirlooms, jewelry, furniture, etc.

For some it could be a simple ticket stub, or a dried flower, the list is endless.

I believe everyone has a some kind of keepsake which holds a precious memory.

Does aging alter emotional attachment to things like keepsakes?

Does the whole space limited downsizing process change how a person views the importance of keeping items?

My answer is, with age comes wisdom, wisdom brings practicality, practicality has me realizing that the memories will remain with or without the physical object.

Have you been able to part with an item from your past that at one time you thought you could never get rid of?

How Are My Odds?

So far my hands are steadier, and I can concentrate far better than the last few days. Hopefully, the frustration trigger is buried deeper than it has been too.

I hope I don’t jinx it by saying so, but overall I’m doing better this time than I expected.

Will I be successful? I’m still uncertain.

Quitting is easy for some people, and maybe it depends on the reason behind why they smoke in the first place. 

For me it’s not social, in fact most family and friends don’t smoke. It’s not for the physical reason of keeping my hands busy. Cigarettes are my reward. I dangle them as enticement to get a project done, or I have one while gearing up to tackle something. Some of my best problem solving takes place on the deck while I’m smoking.

Yes, it’s unhealthy, and that’s the only reason I’m trying to quit, yet it doesn’t change that I enjoy the habit.

I started in grade school although it didn’t become a regular issue until I was in my late teens.

When I became pregnant, I quit and actually went 27 years as a non-smoker. The urge troubled me almost daily during that whole time though.

I know it’s an excuse, but when we had two near death scares in the immediate family both within the same week, the stress had me smoking again.

That was almost ten years ago.

Family laughs when I say, “I’m quitting.” They’ve heard it before.

I debated whether to publish this post because if the past is an indicator my odds to succeed are low.

They say to quit, you have to be ready, and it’s hard to know if you’re ready without giving it a whirl. 

I’m going “cold turkey” no pills, patches or aids other than a pack of nicotine gum if things get hairy. So far I have only had two pieces.

My dilemma is what do I reward myself with? I don’t want to use snacks.

Is it weird that I function on a reward system? 

Have I spent too much time training four legged critters?

Do you reward yourself after say, cutting the lawn or weeding flower beds?

To others who have tried to quit and have failed, it happens, and all we can do is try again.

P.S. – To those around me, I’m trying my best not to get grumpy and snappy but cut me some slack if I do. Sometimes, I just can’t help it.

Where am I? What day is it?

Early this morning as I waited for the red neon clock numbers to come into focus, strange thoughts popped to mind. Not like the nightmare ones that had me flee to the couch earlier this week for a fit of restless naps.

Today my brain jolted awake, for a moment thoughts came in short spurts and jumped from one thing to another. It made it difficult for me to answer my usual two morning questions. “Where am I?”, and “What day is it?”

For those who have noticed that I only published two blog posts in over a month, plus I’ve often only left a “like” on sites I follow, instead of commenting, here’s a brief explanation.

The last 41 days have passed with us busier than I can remember in a long time. I’m not sure if its scientifically possible but in plain and simple terms, my brain got far more tired than my body.

Creative juices left me. Lately, instead of writing and reading while we’re on the road, my iPad sat unopened in my purse while I zoned out with my “things-to-do list”.

I’ve experienced the complete opposite in my normal sleep pattern. Now, I have trouble falling asleep, and I sleep past sunrise.

The daughter swears that essential oil potions can remedy certain problems, and she suggested I try lavender on my temples before bed to help me relax. All I will say regarding this is, “I’ve become a believer!”

If you want to try a natural stress reliever, lavender might work for you.

As many others, my heart aches and my prayers go out to those living and contending with Wild Fires, Raging Storms, and Devastating Floods.

I feel guilty expressing my woes with what those people are going through, but everyday life for us has had its own chaos.

Mister’s been suffering with a neck and shoulder injury, and similar to the popular saying, “A happy wife is a happy life.” To that I’ll add, “A husband in pain is a wife in pain.”

We’ve also had a family milestone birthday, family illness, kids having medical tests and the waiting for results. Mister taking treatments 3 days a week for weeks. Hauling vehicles to-and-fro and hauling hay for winter. I’m on our Condo board and, silly me, I took on the chore of rewriting By-Laws for an amendment voting package. That involved extra meetings and computer time, followed by days of knocking on doors to explain, campaign and remind owners how important it is that they vote. On top of all this, we’ve been trying to downsize our assets, making life changing decisions, and are planning a house expansion renovation.

This morning was the first in ages that I didn’t have to get up and get ready to go or do something major. Once I figured that out, a flood gate opened. Thoughts for writing projects came faster than I could type, and I’m energized to get at regular daily things.

Oh, I’m typing on a new fold up travel blue tooth keyboard for my iPad, and loving it.

I’ll keep this short, but I hope to get back on track soon with my regular weekly posts.

As for the above picture, I’m enjoying the start of fall colors as life at the lake shifts into getting ready for winter. Summer flew by this year, and the sad part is I didn’t get out kayaking once this season.

Did your summer go fast?

Not So Innocent

Swing Ball

Don’t let how innocent the ball and rope appear while they hang still on this pole fool you. Swing Ball, is a fast-paced game for players and entertaining for spectators.

It’s like the old playground, Tether-Ball, except you use a racket rather than your hand. The nylon rope easily glides on the smooth plastic corkscrew, and the tennis ball has much less wind drag than a volleyball. Making the main difference, the velocity the neon ball circles the pole with when it’s hit.

This game tests hand-eye coordination, and if you’re not standing in the right place, quick duck and swerve reflexes.

We bought Swing Ball months ago, but because of Mister’s sore shoulder, and either lack of time or uncooperative weather whenever our kids were out, it remained in its box collecting dust.

Sometimes it takes youths to motivate a person which for me was three recent surprise guests.

One of Mister’s nieces from British Columbia called us when the semi she was driving stranded her and her two daughters in a nearby city. When the three got bored with city shopping and such we picked them up to stay with us until the repairs were completed.

It didn’t take long before the energetic youngen’s, age 13 and 11, spotted the unopened game box and asked if they could try it.

Setup took only minutes, then us three adults sat on the deck ready to be entertained. These two tough country girls held nothing back when they swung at the ball. Neither whined though, if they got nailed by the rubber projectile, mostly because they were too busy laughing.

The girls refer to Mister and I as Auntie and Uncle, and soon it was, “Auntie, come play.”

That’s when the valuable lesson, “Never underestimate someone of age,” began.

Here’s a small detail before I continue. I was on a fair amount of school sport teams, Volleyball, Basketball, Badminton, Floor-Hockey, Track and Field, Soccer, Baseball, and Dodgeball.

The relationship we have with these girls and their mother is where joking, teasing and polite sass is common.

Fresh into my game with the 13-year-old, I cracked her up with a statement that became her favourite to repeat and share. To some it may sound cruel but I said it with love and sportsmanship. It followed her apology after a shot that nearly hit me when I replied, “Don’t apologize if the ball hits me because I won’t if it hits you.” I smiled, we laughed, but I think that’s when she realized Auntie has a hidden competitiveness.

During the evening activities no-one thought to snap pictures while four of us took turns playing the game.

It is a cardio workout, but I’m sure that is because we had to grasp for air between fits of laughter.

To the girl’s surprise, I beat them each in well fought rounds. As we sat to regroup, wipe sweat from our brows and gulp water they kept saying they didn’t think I had it in me.

The next day I’m not sure which ached more from the pervious exertion, my arm or laughing muscles or perhaps my knee from when I missed the ball once and whacked it with my paddle hard enough to bruise.

At least I fared better than the two young ones as to how many times the tennis ball ricochet off a body part. Instead of complaining about a sore spot though they bragged, “Remember this one, I got it when…”

Of course, there were rematches the next day before we took them to pick up their fixed truck.

Embraced in so-long hugs the girls teased and warned me, “Wait until next time, Auntie”.

The truck breaking down was unfortunate, but we all enjoyed this fun unplanned visit.

Since then I’ve talked the son and his wife into trying the game, battling against each other and myself. His wife and I even tried with our left hands and did better than we thought we would.

Look out anyone visiting us that may be up for a game, I really enjoy this one.

If you bruise easy, it might not be a game for you, although I figured out, the ball only makes contact if you are too close.

Have you played Swing Ball yet?

Sailing, Boat Names, and Seven Dwarfs

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Last week began with our extra beds occupied and a house filled with laughter during a sibling sleepover.

Monday I had my first sailboat experience as a passenger on the 21 foot, “Huhn Wetter” captained by my big brother. He trailered her to our lake for a couple days visit.

The sailing adventure was extra special because there was five siblings onboard. To bad the other two stayed ashore.

It was also Brother’s first official day of retirement. What better way for him to start a new chapter of his life than giving many of us our first ride on his pride and joy.

Have you ever walked a dock reading boat names?

They Intrigue me, and I often wonder the reasons behind them.

Names usually represent someone special to the owner, a favorite quote or cliché, or they may reference a goal, a dream or a destiny.

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“Huhn Wetter” is named in memory of our mother. These two German words were one of her favorite muttered curses. A habit passed down from her mother and one shared with her sisters.

Why would anyone use curse words to name their boat?

Hold on, I’ll explain.

“Huhn Wetter,” translated means, “Chicken Weather.”

Yes, our mother had a real potty mouth. (Smiley Face)

Sailing has no history amidst our immediate family, so my brother is sure when he bought this boat he heard our mother curse his new hobby. She wasn’t a water fan, and she always worried about us kids’ safety.

The gang woke on Tuesday to clouds, wind and a coat wearing chill, so the boat stayed in the marina. Three of us girls went beach combing for driftwood in the morning getting quite a haul for a sister’s lamp making project. By the afternoon the boys suffering with cabin fever went out and worked on the boat trailer.

Wednesday once the morning fog cleared, and the sun came out, Captain Brother, his wife, and I went for another sail. He had me man the rudder while he raised the sails. Once done he surprised me when I went to move for him to take over, and he said, “Nope, she’s all yours.”

He explained how to make slight shifts in the boats course to catch the breeze instead of us swinging the sails, and how to watch the dangling string on the front sail as a guide. I steered for a spell, and even managed a turn, but when we caught stronger winds and picked up speed, I chickened out and handed her back to her rightful captain.

Mister and I own a pontoon boat which we’ve enjoyed for years, and I doubt we would ever trade. Now, I can understand though what about sailing appeals to my brother. It’s the peace and quiet. Here’s to him for learning the skill.

I would consider learning the craft if the mast was maybe 6’ high making the sail’s surface small enough that the boat would stay rowing speed slow. Something about being at the weather’s mercy and being so tall when the boat lists that would take me time to get use to. No matter how many times the brother says they wouldn’t sink even if they fill with water. Laying over or flipping really doesn’t sound fun to me, either.

Since the sleepover had seven participants, I thought it would be fun to match each of us to a Disney’s Seven Dwarf character. It got complicated though. I could have assigned, Sleepy, Sneezy and Doc, but none of us are Bashful, and if I labeled someone Grumpy or Dopey, I would get in trouble. Plus, all of us qualified to be, Happy, so it wouldn’t have been fair to choose only one.

Could you match your siblings to any of Disney’s Seven Dwarfs?

Have you ever been on a sailboat?

The Power of A Photograph

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I scrolled a photo album for a picture with the power to calm my troubled mind.

Family pictures bring me the most joy, but I choose the above holiday shot because I’m sure seeing a place is more interesting for strangers.

Shores and Coastlines are always a happy place for me to visit. This is the sun setting on the walkway at Seaside, Oregon.

Are you ever amazed how a simple picture can trigger emotions?

Do photos do this for you?

There are two other common memory triggers. I’m often shocked how quick, and out of the blue, the past will flash when you hear a certain tune or smell a certain scent.

Without going into detail, we’ve had a somewhat crappy week, and I’ve been sporting puffy eyes.

Why, the puffy eyes you ask?

I Could literally be the “Town-Cryer”.

As in, that’s my coping mechanism. I cry when I’m sad or receive unsettling news, when I’m stressed, when I’m overtired, when I’m happy or I laugh too much, and if someone else gets teary eyed, no problem, I’ll join them.

When my gene pool was filled, I must have gotten extra emotions, and a sensitive waterworks trigger. If not that, I’ll blame aging and adulthood. I’m sure others will agree that at times, those both suck.

Who here can tear-up reading something, or watching a TV commercial? (Surprise! My hand is up.)

Have faith in me, my family and friends, I’m stronger than I may appear. (Smiley Face)

I hope your days are running smoothly.