Having had a few “moments” on my hands the other day, my mind started to wander…and, as it journeyed down the avenues of escape, I began to ponder upon several thoughts, or rather “wonderings.”
In the Past each of these ponderings would slip in and out of my brain, tempting me just on the edge of entering into my complete consciousness, but, then, with what I label as a supreme LAUGH, would slide into forgetfulness again.
HOWEVER…NOW I CAUGHT THEM! They can’t get away THIS Time! So, without further ado, I now bring them to the surface.
AS I WALK THROUGH THE STREETS OF ESPY…
The first item which enters into consideration is…What EVER happened to the plans to build sidewalks and install streetlights of the main streets of our beloved little town? Years ago, I can recall that this topic was a serious item of discussion at several meetings which I attended. Of course, the plan would, obviously, require considerable forethought and, moreover, would also require even MORE considerable searching for funds. Nevertheless, the plan frequently surfaced for discussion. Perhaps the necessary involvement of Penndot and its requirements ushered this concept into the realms of oblivion.
Today as I, and Hobbes (my faithful Canine “sidekick”) travel by foot and vehicle along the byways and highways of our rural habitation, I wonder how this plan could have EVER managed to come to fruition. But, then again, NOTHING is ever REALLY and COMPLETELY impossible!
THERE ON YOUR RIGHT…
Pymatuning is a GREAT resource and incredible venue. Not only does the lake (or, reservoir, depending upon your viewpoint) serve as a viable watershed for the entire Region, it also has provided decades of pleasure to innumerable individuals and families. The wonders of its waters are beyond measure and description. One could spend, literally, hours exploring its vistas. The history of the lake can, and DOES, fill volume upon volume of record. The stories it holds are unbelievable!
Yet, to this day, and to the best of my knowledge, no craft exists which can transport visitors along its waters for the sheer pleasure of sightseeing and historical presentation.
Our liquid neighbor, Conneaut Lake, has an extended series of such vessels…extending to our present day. Presque Isle and Erie Bay possess a myriad of craft extending the same opportunity to the Public.
Travel south into the Pittsburgh Region and one can board a huge “sternwheeler” from which to experience the sights along the Three Rivers.
SO…what’s the reason that our Region does not possess similar possibilities??? HMMM!!!
HARVESTING THE FRUIT (OR VEGGIES)
OF YOUR LABOR…
One of the first “projects” which was pursued by myself upon our beloved “homestead” was the fulfillment of one of my own lifelong Dreams…the creation of a small garden in which to grow a tomato plant (or two) and a couple of other vegetable crops. Maybe I could even plant a few flowering plants for my wife’s pleasure!
Of course, our “wetlands” could not support an in-ground garden; nor would the clay nature of its soil lend itself to the propagation of my Dream.
Turning to the wonders of advice, I discovered the possible success of “raised-bed gardens.”
Without hesitation, I proceeded to build my first (YEP, THAT’S RIGHT!) raised bed.
Lumber was purchased from a local hardware store…bags of soil were acquired from a local produce merchant. Seeds and tiny tomato plants were waiting anxiously. I was all set!
My first garden would measure a “HUGE” eight-foot by eight-foot square. I meticulously prepared the spot…laid-out my lumber…nailed it together…emptied the bags of soil…then, planted my future produce.
Yeah, as the season progressed, I faced the usual problems, headaches, etc. But, I didn’t care…I had a GARDEN!
Fortunately, in retrospect, I DID harvest a few tomatoes, and flowers that first time around. WOW!!! Was I proud of my work!
As the years marched onward, my garden grew…beyond my comprehension! And, now, I am in the process of planning an expansion for next season. I can hardly wait…neither can Carolyn (RIGHT!).
BUT…what to do with all the veggies???
While my Mom was still with us, I provided her with literally dozens upon dozens of jars in which I had canned the reaps of my harvest. As she was involved with several Senior Center organizations in the Pittsburgh area, she would distribute the jars among the members of each organization.
The years following her physically leaving our Lives left me with a question: NOW WHAT???
As I visited our rental storage unit, I caught through the corner of my eye, stack after satck of carton boxes. What was that sound??? I thought I heard the muffled cries of the hundreds of empty Mason jars crying to be released. Hold-on, guys…you escape will come…MAYBE!
BTW…I refuse to accept my wife’s offered assistance in canning the products of my gardens. Hey, after all, isn’t that MY job?!?
SO…now one of the little thoughts that has crept into my mind is: WHY DO YOU INSIST ON DOING THE CANNING PROCESS BY YOURSELF? DUHHH!!!
LONG TIME PASSING…
Perhaps the most evasive concept to pass through my mind, or perhaps the one upon which I am MOST reluctant to dwell, is the question: why is it that the days, months, and seasons seem to whoosh past with increasing speed? “Where HAVE all the flowers gone?”
Friends seem to move on with increasing rapidity. Families and neighbors are changing constantly. The venues along the beloved streets of Espy are either gone, or totally changed.
Where are the beaches…the sand…the ice cream stands and bowling alley of my Youth.? My gardens have grown in increased size. The waters of Pyma are still ablaze with the evening sunsets.
But, so much is different…as am I.
Hobbes’ “moustache” is grayer these days…mine is nearly white.
What’s going ON???
BUT THEN…
Into my consciousness whispers the chirping of the birds in the garden, the trees, and at our many feeders. I watch the Bluebird, Oriole, and Cardinal parents escorting their young to our seeds and delights.
I walk through the garden and notice all the new growths and flower buds. Journey into the woods, and hear the voices of the other creatures…see the shapes and shadows of the soaring avians overhead.
Then, as Hobbes and I take our walk, I am MOST thankful that the sidewalks and lights never became Reality. We hop into the Cruiser…head over to our storage space, and gather some of the stacks of boxes into our vehicle. We can hear the joyful voices of the Mason jars clanging with the excitement of expectation.
Then, we pass over the Causeway and head back home, we slow down, and stop to watch the Sunlight rippling on the waters. No “sightseeing vessel” needs to be present.
As we head back home, I ponder yet another thought that enters unforeseen into my mind.
Last year, at this precise Time, I was literally “fighting for my Life.”
Things, places, events, and venues change…constantly. But the one thing which remains despite all the changes…LOVE.
Don’t stop believin’
Hold on to that feelin’
- JOURNEY