For content relating to personal (non-medical) anecdotes
My parents never yelled, let alone spanked. We always understood what was expected of us and feared failure rather than punishment. They expressed disappointment far more often than they showed anger. They often asked us to devise our own punishments. And, perhaps above all, they were masters of the object lesson.
It was January and there were several inches of fresh snow on the ground and no shoveled path to the car. The temperature in the teens. I had an errand to run with a child who INSISTED on going barefoot. The following brief conversation between a seriously sleep deprived post-call parent and an articulate three year old.
“Do you want to put your shoes on yourself, or do you want help?”
"I don't NEED to wear shoes. My feet aren't cold."
"They will be. It's cold out."
"My feet aren't cold."
"Put your shoes on."
"No."
"Fine."
You know those newsy letters tucked into a card, a collection of headlines about a family's adventures since the last holiday season, often accompanied by a photo or two?
I am thankful for it all, both the bad and the good. For all the things that make the world what it is. I am thankful for the opportunity to participate, to try to make a difference. And I wish you all the best holiday you can have and the opportunity to be thankful, too.
The small balcony of our motel in Port Angeles afforded me a fine view. Sitting there, I enjoyed spectacular sunsets, a wide range of shore birds, and the ferries coming in and leaving from Victoria across the Strait of Juan de Fuca.
Long ago, in a distant land, in circumstances seeming dire, a dear friend penned this for me. It surfaced this week while I sorted papers. Like all truths and most good literature, it is timeless. I offer it, with thanks to Jill, for those in need.
Ode to the Grumps
Many a time it hath been stated
to the grumps we oft are fated
tho' such condition is rare to find
Every experienced backpacker has a collection of newbie stories suitable for teaching and humor. One of my favorites involves a young couple looking for romantic adventure.
It was our first summer in Maine, and we were feeling the pressure of time.
It’s Father’s Day. My Dad is gone, but not his impact.