Spring! This is the time of the year when I put the lawn-chair furniture on the front porch and soak up the best parts of the day.
This morning I was out there early, real early, sitting in the still of the morning, before the sun had come up.
This lone cat comes walking down the side of the house, most likely has passed by here countless times, when no one was sitting in the chair.
He does not see me, sauntering by at a lazy pace, oblivious to his surroundings. Just as he gets directly in front of me, I lunge forward and scream …. BOO!
That cat shot two and one-half feet into the air, and his feet were doing 100 mph before they hit the ground. It looked like some kind of “Road Runner Cartoon” on Saturday morning. I laughed so hard, my side started splitting. Truly one of the great treasures of life, scaring the _____ out of a stray cat.
Let us move on Boys & Girls … Our birds came home today.
Migration, part of the cycle of time, a wonder of nature. Speaking of cycles? I often wonder if there is a place where time stops, where it literally stands still and you are allowed to sit there and collect what is left of your thoughts. For instance there is a tribe of indigenous indians, deep in the jungles of the Amazon, who have no word in their vocabulary for time or old age.
When they reach what most would consider middle age, they just assume a totally new identity and move on. Makes one wonder what that would be like, to just start out anew, in the middle of life.
But I digress … Like I said, “our birds came home today.”
We have six apartments for rent each year for Purple Martin’s (bird houses with 12 rooms to a house) and all of them arrived today. Such a commotion and a wondrous sight, when you stop and marvel on how far they have come. Thousands of miles, to the place of their birth, this little Goat Farm in the middle of the Heartland. We always send 16-20 home each year, but sadly, only 50% of them make it back. Life during the drought must really be hard on these little birds.
So what else is going on?
Wrote a check this week, first one I have written in years. The lady looked at it and then said, “that is so refreshing.” and I said, “What?” She replied, “A man’s handwriting that you can actually decipher.” Joined Handwriting (Cursive Writing) will soon disappear in this country, if it hasn’t already.
Already gone in some schools who no longer teach “joined handwriting or cursive style” because nearly everything is done now on computers or keyboards of some type (pun not intended).
Think back to when you were a kid, sitting at the kitchen table, with your #2 pencil, big lined paper, “working on your letters.” Those days are now a thing of the past, old school, gone.
School Districts are not teaching cursive style of writing, and if they are, it is an elective. Soon the entire country will be full of illeterates that cannot read or write, just like the third world immigrants that are filling our ranks right now.
Ornery and cynical to the very end, I am going to write my will in cursive, just to force the kids, to stay up to speed.
One of these days, sooner or later, you will hear someone say, “I tried to text him, then I tried to find him on FakeBook, Twitter, and Linkindein (sp), finally had to do it the old fashioned way … I sent him an Email.”
Which is okay, because each day I find, that I am inching towards that mystical place where time shuts down, right here, smack dab in the middle of Oklahoma. Just think of all the money I saved on Air Fare alone … my ultimate goal is to be able to turn in my phone and of course, “leave all of you alone.”
Here is what folks were reading last week at Creative Endeavors.
|Home page / Archives|