Friday, July 16, 2010

Writing about home

Live so that when your children think of fairness and integrity, they think of you.~H. Jackson Brown

Home is where the heart is, my friend!
I was helping my friend pack up and emotionally move from the midwest to California where her husband was relocated for his job.  A fresh start, he was going to be the VP of their regional division on the west coast.  Back home, my friend dreaded the move.  In fact, it took her over two years to decide to put their house up for sale and make the final move; while her husband worked on the west coast for 2 years, living in a small apartment, flying back to the Midwest occasionally, with several phone calls to the family daily.

We sat on the only chairs left, placed in the empty living room, we pondered on all of the memories that the house held.  The laughter, crying, anger and rebellion.  All wrapped up in the arms of this quaint home.  We hugged as we said our good byes.  She felt lost for words.  I held my hand to her heart and said softly, "Home is where your heart is my friend.  Remember that!"  She smiled with glistening tears in her eyes as she hugged me long and hard.

I walked out the door, looking back waving.  Our homes are where we are, our heart and soul.  This is where our children, family and friends will come; naturally, gracefully and gratefully back.  Not being forced or pulled.   One home; one heart!

Monday, July 12, 2010

Simple Beauty

There is beauty all around you; all you have to do is see it. ~Kelly Sylte

Having traveled for years as a consultant for work to different states and countries; I'd fly out on Sunday's and then back to my home state on Thursday's. Traveling really gave me a sense of appreciation for my home state, cities, the countryside and other locations. Coming home, I would walk out of the airport and suck in the beautiful scents in the air and on my drive to my destination I saw the different greens in the landscape glow as the hues transitioned in color.  The leaves fluttered on the trees and the hay bent like soft feathers in the golden green fields. The shaped clouds in the blue sky looked as if it were painted in a watercolor.

It is a beautiful site!

It's so easy to get stuck in the thought that this place isn't the best or that it's better somewhere else, when in reality, each place has it's wondrous beauty, I just need to stand and see it, appreciate it, and take time to breath it in.

Mill Street Days Author appearance in my hometown

A Great day at the Mill Street days festival!!!

I was able to see people I haven't seen in over 25 years. Thanks to all of you for coming out...  It was great meeting new, renewed and seeing family and old friends...

Loved talking with you!!

Thank you Book Heads for hosting my appearance!!!  Wonderful to see you all again!!!

Here is the article by Sue Mrotz in the local newspaper

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Identity of Place

Man is a creature made at the end of the week's work when God was tired.-- Mark Twain
I stopped at the drive up window after ordering my lemonade ice, which was a .99 cent happy hour deal; and out of the window popped a young boy, no more than 16, his entire torso was out the window. He said, "how are you today?"  I was taken aback.  His personality and gestures bubbling as he handed me my drink.  I paid him.  He dangled out the window looking goofy-like a jack-in-the-box character and jovially stated, "Have a nice day!"

I went on my way.

A few hours later, I stopped in a little town for a quick bite.  I ordered and drove up to the window.  The glass windows popped open, instead of being greeted with a smiling attendant, I was quickly handed my drink and she shut the windows and I waited.  And waited.  As I waited, I noticed a digital clock above the counter, beeping like an alarm.  It seemed to be counting the seconds that I was at the window.  I watched and waited. Three minutes went by, 3:01, 3:02, 3:03.  Then the windows opened and she handed me my bag, with a slight smile on her face, she said, "Here you go".  And that was that.

As I drive to my destination, 12 hours later, I ponder about the differences in each fast food restaurants have assorted tact on how they care for their customer.  Whether they realize it or not, sometimes I find it invasive and others quite humorous.

Some fast food restaurants service care about how I, the customer feels, and other care about how fast the food gets to me.  Either way, I get my food and go on my marry way.  I continue to drive to my destination, which is truly what I care about anyway.