The way to love someone
is to lightly run your finger over that person's soul
until you find a crack,
and then gently pour your love into that crack.
~Keith Miller

Thursday, August 31, 2017

We fished there a lot, the family of little me, during the years while I grew up.

They fished there.  I never liked the idea of catching a fish.  I didn't even like the idea that fish were in the water close enough to nibble on the baited hooks they threw.  
I did love to cast though.  My line ended with an iron "sinker" that hit the water just like a period ends a sentence.  Plop.  Sometimes my dad would attach a "bob float".  That little red white ball was one of my favorite things in the tackle box.  When you pushed down a little top button, oh so very carefully, a tiny golden candy cane arose to nab your line and disappear.  I thought they were the smartest design ever and wondered why the Christmas tree baubles weren't made the same way.

I loved to stand with my family and cast my line (while sometimes dodging my brothers' shenanigans).  

I loved to sit very still and listen to the waves and the birds and watch my family fish. 

*HBDT my older brother who would have been 61 

Tuesday, August 22, 2017

National Seashore - Camping out with some of the family -

Now that I'm back where iced drinks and hot showers may be taken for granted, I'd like to save some of the pictures taken on the recent campout.  A couple of our adult children, L and I spent several days at the National Seashore (near Corpus Christi, Texas).
This was the first time I have seen deer at the beach.  They were huge, like elk sized huge, and not shy at all.  They were grazing at dusk atop the dunes behind were we selected to set up camp.  I hoped they would return while we were there but they didn't.

Our campsite was 3.5 miles South of where the pavement stops.  I'm a happier camper when I can shower ... fortunately the Parks Service provides a pretty nice facility in support of that!  We did see a bit of traffic, mostly day fishermen who came and went.  Some traffic moved further South on the 67 mile stretch (too far from the bath house for me).  Here we are looking back up the way, Northward.
Four captured this shot and dressed it up with some filter app.

This pic is of the first day's sunset.  It was dark when we stopped (near the deer).

Both of these are around "sunrise" over the Gulf and are without filter or manipulation of any kind.

Surprisingly, both the kids were great at sleeping in.  My coffee bell rings pretty early!

Sometimes we would cover the tents hoping to keep sand out but it was so blowy that it was a losing battle.  After a few days even the towels were covered in sand and salt brine.

Fire building was a favorite pastime.  We collected wood there - some of it big, some small, all in various stages of still damp.  The kids liked the fire work a lot.  All I did was enjoy.

C, aka Four

Bocce Ball was a new game for me and lots of fun.
I basically rocked it.  

This kite has been with us for sometime.  Flying a kite at the beach is a tradition for us.
I really wanted to buy a new kite at a super cool kite store up in Boulder, but this one is still in great shape.  We did lose it's little spinning corkscrew tail on this trip.

This was taken from my cot.  The ability to watch the moon rise and arc across the night sky ... the Milky Way and all those stars ... probably my favorite part.  Not sure ... everything except the blowing sand was really cool.

It took three solid hours and 12 bucks worth of quarters to get the sand out of the car.  Yesterday we power washed all the gear.

 I'm actually almost ready to head down there again!  Next time I'm going to pack my change of clothes in ziplock bags!

Wednesday, August 9, 2017

Traveling a bit - last weekend was the annual girlfriend's weekend.  We hung out in San Antonio.  There is something precious about sharing time with people who have known you ever since when.

I came home wishing  Four and Five could see the long lasting  effects of hurtful words.  It's way too easy to see everyone's baggage when you were there when they first began to carry it along through life.  I can't see mine, but routine readers likely can.  Obviously, for me, there is the pain of being the only living member of the family of my birth.  My younger brother came up in one small conversation - someone said he was just epic back in the day.  He was outstanding at everything a boy becoming a man is measured by.  I didn't see it then but it's obvious now.  Back then I just liked him because he was funny and because he was my little brother.  It was good to remember the high school kid of him.  I remembered walking by the bathroom we shared and seeing him shaving his arms in the sink.  "What are you doing T-ray?" I asked taking it in stride, I mean, I didn't even raise an eyebrow even though he was using my newly acquired "Flicker" razor, I was used to him.  He was curious and able to focus, he was pretty intense.  I guess we all were.  Anyway, he hadn't begun shaving yet, but he wanted to see what it felt like so he shaved his arms from the elbow down to the wrist - both arms.  Why both arms I remember asking and he said because he liked it and because he thought both arms shaved would be less noticeable than having just one bare arm.  I said why didn't you shave your legs like I do and he said that would be weird and every kid in the locker room would find it troubling.  I laughed at that, but he probably wasn't kidding.

We have a trip over to Two's big event - Southern Maker's planned. Leaving early tomorrow for the rest of the week.  Next week we will be camping at the National Seashore in tents ... the cicadas seem to be singing about the shoreline right now.  Max delights in capturing then releasing only to snag again and again the locust who frequent these back yard trees.  I'm sitting outside (alone) while I write this tonight.  Larry is out with one of our daughters and the other (home from school for a few more days) is going through "her boxes" in her room.  I think she has enjoyed looking at the mementos of her earlier life.

I have been careful to keep their treasures safe but it seems to be time for the adult kids to take their boxes to their homes.  I had wondered why my mother didn't save "my things" and have decided that she got rid of them when she moved.  To say she wasn't sentimental would be an understatement.  I wish I had understood her rather than just know her.  It's good when your kids get you.

Well, here's Four now.