Happy Today! May your week be Fantabulous! I love you. I appreciate you.

I found an old file on my computer the other day, and in wandering through it, came across this piece I wrote several years ago, and thought y’all might get a chuckle out of it.

Hiking With the Elderly

My stepdad, Sandy, had at least four weeks of vacation per year, and we often spent that camping with my Grandma and Skipper—what everyone called my grandpa—my mother’s parents.  One year, my best friend Pat was invited to join us.  Two teen-aged girls, for four weeks of primitive camping! What was my family thinking?

Our first camp site that year was in central Oregon just south of Bend, on East Lake, which is east of Paulina Lake.  The adults would spend most of the day out on the lake fishing, and Pat and I would spend our time hiking, wandering around, reading, and checking out the guys.  The latter took very little time, as there weren’t many our age worth checking out.  And the ones there were, were far more interested in fishing than us girls.  Their loss.

One day, Skipper decided to take us on a hike to the fire look out tower at the top of Paulina Peak, almost 8,000 feet elevation.  Now, Pat and I decided we’d go easy on the old man, after all, we were teenagers, and he was in his 70s.  So off we went.  We drove to the trail head, and started up. It being both good etiquette and common sense to allow the slowest to lead, we let Skipper lead us up the trail.  We went up.  And up.  And up.  We finally got to the top.  The view was spectacular, as I recall, and we spent a little time there, then it was time to go down.  And down.  And down.  No, only two downs.  It was three ups and two downs.  I’m positive of that.  

Back at the campsite, with a couple hours of daylight left, Skipper went fishing – Pat and I collapsed into a long and wonderful nap.  We woke in time to eat supper, and then slept all night long.  We were pooped.  So much for giving the old man a break.

Several years latter, when my son was in his early twenties, I bought a new pair of hiking boots.  We decided to take them on an inaugural hike.  I found a trail close to my apartment, a ‘wandering creek trail’.  I thought that would be a nice easy hike, following the creek.  A good way to break in my new boots. What the trail name failed to tell, and the map failed to show, as it wasn’t an elevation map, was that the wandering creek wandered as it fell over several hundred feet – the trail went up and up and up.  One of the steepest trails I’d ever been on.  Aaron and I hiked and climbed and when we got to the top, where it leveled out, we walked. 

The view was spectacular, and there was a nest of well-marked and maintained trails at the top of the plateau.  I later spent many afternoons and weekends exploring those trails.  Though I seldom took the wandering creek trail again.  Oh, and when we got back to the apartment, Aaron collapsed into a long and deep nap.  I went grocery shopping.  Once again proving old age and treachery will win over youthful exuberance.  Or is it that history repeats itself?

Caliche Road Poems by David Meischen

This book has been in my to-read stack for several months. I finally got to the book, and am so sorry I waited so long to get to it. Caliche Road Poems should have been at the top of the stack and it should be at the top of yours!

As Meischen says in the note at the beginning of this powerful, accessible collection, “These poems originate from a particular place and time—the Meischen family farm in the Dilworth community of Jim Wells County Texas, 1948 and the years that followed.” The poems are about his youth, and his family, and friends as he knew them and remembers them.

As a city gal who, especially as a young, romantic, girl, dreamed of marrying a farmer or cattle rancher, I found this collection both informative and fascinating. And, I think, I’m glad I stayed a city gal, though I do prefer towns to raging cities.;-)

I love the images—his parents dancing to Glenn Miller, the air conditioned shop in Corpus Christi, the trees, the play of children, the dangers of farm life. I could smell the mesquite, my back ached harvesting cotton.

And any grown man (or woman), who still calls his daddy Daddy, has my undying love and admiration. The Meischens are a family I’d love to know, to sit with a cup of coffee or iced tea and just converse and enjoy their company, a slow Texas breeze, the scenery from the kitchen or the porch. Thank you, David Meischen for sharing your family and home, dogs, cows, everyday life. I look forward to returning several times in my future.

Caliche Road Poems by David Meischen 

ISBN: 978-1-962148-03-0
Lamar University Literary Press, Beaumont, Texas
Bookshop.org

This book deserves a place on your nightstand. Delightful poems with which to end your day.

Sunday Service

I know I’ve told you about Rev. Dr. Staceypants and her Sunday Sermons. It’s the first time in 40 years or more that I’ve actually looked forward to Church on Sunday, or any other day of the week. For those of you who don’t know her, at least electronically, you might want to check her out. Today’s sermon: “Is It a Sin to Cheer for Iran?” And, no, she’s not a closet Muslim, and she’s not anti-American. For an interesting sermon, by an atheist, recommended by another atheist, click here. And don’t forget to call out, Amen at the appropriate places!

Standards Not Force

Those of you who want to resist, and for whatever reasons can’t do marches, etc., please consider checking out Standards Not Force. for Substack, and Standards Not Force on YouTube. They have a way for us old folks to pull our part.

Be well, be happy, be safe