Cardboard boxes, creek water and honeysuckle

Sometimes I  wonder how I  survived  childhood.
There were no  childproof locks, or plugs for  the electrical  sockets.

We didn't  have  seat  belts, air  bags or  special safety car seats.
We played on a concrete playground  with steel monkey  bars.
We played in  the  mud, drank  out  of  hoses-remember the taste  of water  from  the  hose?

We walked  everywhere-no  fear  of  kidnapping, or  perverts.

When  we  moved   from D.C,  to  Maryland  we  discovered  new  exciting  things.

Our  house  backed  into  Sligo Creek  Parkway. We  had to  walk  through a  small  stretch of  woods-that  led to a  big  hill then  the  creek.

One of  the first things we  learned  from  the  neighborhood kids
sledding in  the spring and  summer.
First you  find a  big  cardboard  box-the  kind that  console televisions  came  in, or  better yet a  refrigerator one- much  bigger and more  to  share,
We would  tear of  a  big piece, hold  it in  front of  our bodies,take a running start  and  dive down  he  hill  with the  cardboard as the sled.

Another great  thing to  do with a  box-leave  in  shape, climb  in  and  roll   down  the-we   would  get  cuts  and  bruises-but  never  anything  serious.
When we were tired of playing with the  cardboard., we would head  on  down  to  the  creek.

We  need  more  creeks in  this  world. 
Sligo creek  was  teeming   with all  sorts  of aquatic life.
We would watch  the  water striders skim  across the surface, we  would  catch minnows, crayfish, salamanders, and  in early spring tadpoles and  later  frogs.
We  never  kept  anything, it  was the  original catch  and  release.
However, sometimes  we would find a box turtle and  take  it  home for a few days.

When it  was  realy  hot and  were  thirsty, we  would scoop up a handful of  creek water and  drink, sometimes  we  would even  stick our  mouth in  the  creek and  slurp.

We never got  sick.
We would play in the  woods, and  eat wild  mulberries and blackberries. We would uproot sassafras and  chew  on  the  root, and once  we  found a  persimmon  tree-only one  in  all the  woods.

There was a  lot of  honeysuckle  growing around, and  we  pick  the flowers and  try  to suck  the  honey  out  of  them. Sometimes, I  think the  fragrance of  the  flowers  influenced  the  taste.

I never  swallowed  a bee and  I  never  got sick  from  the honeysuckle.

We  did a lot of  dangerous  things  growing  up  and  we  survived,

Todays kids spend too  much  time in front of  the computer, or on their cell phone.
They may  never experience the joys  of  catching a frog, or  wading through a creek. They will  never know the  thrill  of  rolling down  a  hill in a cardboard box.

But perhaps, they have  an  app  for that.

FAMILY

One reads of so  many dysfunctional  families  , broken  families,  feuding   families and  it is so  sad  when  you  read about  parents, and  children  and siblings, no  longer  talking to  each  other,not  even  a phone call   or a  card  on  special  days.  If  you  read  the  advice  columns-  you  read  about family  members  not  attending  weddings, anniversaries or  other  events  because a certain  family member  might be at  the  same  event.

What  is  wrong with  these  people?  Most of  the feuding is over something trivial-hurt  feelings,something  said in  the  heat  of an  arguement , or perhaps a parents  giving  money  to   one  sibling who  needs  it,  but  to  one who doesn't.  There  are  so  many  stupid  reasons that  families  feud or  ignore each  other  and for  what?

Granted  there  are serious  issues in  some  cases, but  the ones  I read  about  or   know about are  trivial.

I consider  myself  blessed.My family  gets  along,we have all stayed  in  the Metro  area,  and whenever  there is a crisis, we  all share  in  dealing with the  problem.

Recently  because of  the  illness of my room mate, I've had  to  rely on  my siblings  more  than  usual.
They  have  there own  families, and problems,  but  they  found  the  time  to  help  me  through  my  recovery  period, with cooking, cleaning, and other  details.  I am grateful for  their  help.Without  them I would probably have  to  hire  someone.

My  parents  were great parents-and their  greatness, love, and  concern  for  family has  been  passed on to my siblings  and  me.  Judging from the  actions  of  my nieces and  nephews  the  tradition  continues.

I wish  to  thank them  all today .
As for everyone out there in the blog  community, or  Facebook  or  any other  social network  group-if you  are  feuding  with  your   family or haven't talked to a family member in a while--pick  up  the  phone  and  call them.It is time  to  grow up, act  mature and  mend fences. It  is  time  to  be an  adult.

It's Only a Pear

I like all kinds of fruits-among  my favorites are -watermelon.honeydew,Fuji apples, oranges (I like grapefruits, but it affects  the medicine I take, so now I must  avoid it), strawberries, blueberries, raspberries and pears. But not any pear, it has to be a bosc pear-not the red ones, the brownish, ugly ones-they  are my favorites.

    I can not explain why this type of pear satisfies my craving for something sweet. In most cases, a bowl of chocolate ice cream, or a Milano cookie or a Berger cookie will satisfy  this craving, and yet if there is a bosc pear available  I will go for  the pear.

  Now, I do not want the pear to be too ripe-it has to be hard, crunchy and cold.

  The bosc pear is not a pretty fruit.  It is brown, scarred, splotchy-it looks like it has been through a war of pears- but I  do  not  care.

I raise the pear to my mouth and take a bite. The taste is cold and sweet, with a slight earthy taste.  When  I am done eating-only the stem  and  seeds are left.It is a taste that is so satisfying and yet my friends  say" Bob, it is only a pear"

I know it is only a pear.  But for a brief  moment, as I am enjoying this  ugly  pear I find  myself  someplace  else.
There are no people, no TV, no music, no noise except  the crunch of my pear.

I sigh and I wonder  how can  such an ugly pear  provide such a beautiful  feeling.

The Beauty of Americana Finnmark

Because of my health,  I no longer am able to walk the grounds of Finnmark.The beauty of this great piece of property is a sight to behold.  We have won a couple of awards for our landscaping.  We also have living on our property some amazing gardeners.

     These days I sit on my balcony  and admire the courtyard and whatever else falls within my view.

    If you have never walked the grounds during the spring and summer . you should do so.  There are some really pretty sights- whether it is the natural beauty of our trees and shrubbery, or your neighbors patios and balconies.

    I enjoy my balcony, for the privacy.  When the tree in front of my balcony is in bloom, I am hidden from everyone and it is like my own private Eden. I can listen to the music, enjoy the sights and sounds of local wildlife, sip a Campari and soda, and admire the beauty of the trees and shrubs.

  I have squirrels and chipmunks, scurrying around in the grass, numerous birds, butterflies and sometimes insects I do not recognize.  Early in the morning I can see a family of rabbits, the occasional deer and soon ducks and Canadian  geese.

  Those of you who are mobile- and are able to get around- take a walk- admire the sights, say hello to a neighbor.  Check out the courtyards, the patios and the balconies.

Enjoy the walk and enjoy the beauty that is Finnmark.