Life Goes On

It has been one month since I last wrote. It is time to begin writing again.

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We’re back from England and after two weeks of struggling with a combination of jet lag and head cold, things are beginning to get back to normal. It has been a few busy weeks at work but I was able to look forward to this weekend and the promise of settling into a routine once more. At my age routines are good.

Gerrie was traveling this weekend. She was up to Michigan for a class reunion. This means I had time on my hands to take care of things that I generally push aside while we’re home together; which is most of the time. Coming home from England and feeling somewhat inspired, I had hoped to work in the yard. But a good amount of rain changed those plans. The same way it changed plans to go to a baseball game with friends. Oh well, I suppose the rain is good thing.

Changing my plans, I came upstairs and started going through things in the office. I went through old files and reorganized some things, and, discarded more than a few things. It is all a part of my ongoing desire to simplify; to downsize. Yet when it comes to discarding items, it is easier to part with some things and harder with others.

Finding some things that were difficult to part with is what prompted me to stop and write.

I have, for many years, harbored a deep desire to relocate to Central Florida. For those who me well, they know that I love Walt Disney World and I would go there as often as possible. More recently the frequency of my trips has declined so we can travel and see other things. Still, I always wish to be there more than I am. So a few years ago I began to investigate a move. I thought, “You’re still young enough to find good employment and with a few changes and modifications in lifestyle, you can make a go of it.” Though Gerrie doesn’t share the same passion for Disney that I do, she was supportive of the idea. The planning and savings commenced.

I called and emailed a number of Chambers of Commerce in the Central Florida area and began collecting all manner of information about relocating. I started reading, looking at different areas to live, investigated job possibility and costs of living, and started making a plan. I had us on a twenty-four month plan; twenty-four months to save, organize, downsize, and so forth. Those twenty-four months concluded this past January 1st. 

We’re still here.

This morning I found the files with all the notes, the brochures and magazines that I had gathered. As I opened the file and placed the contents on my desk I had a moment of pause. My first thought was to gather everything together and put them back where I found them. That is when the thought stuck me, “Life goes on Greg.” With that, I gathered the pile and placed it in my recycle bin.

It wasn’t easy. To do that was like admitting that this particular dream was over. And perhaps it is. But, perhaps it is, only for awhile. Perhaps some day I will realize this dream and live out my twilight years spending time in my “happy place.” But it isn’t for these years. 

Putting these things out for recycle may mean that this is over. But, it doesn’t mean that the dreaming itself comes to an end. Oh no! I am a dreamer! I make no apologies for that. As long as there is life in this old body I will continue to dream. I will continue to dream about the places I wish to visit and the things I wish to see. I will continue to dream, and to pray, that God may one day call me back out into the mission field and that I will be brave enough and bold enough say, “God, here I am, I am Yours.” I will dream about all the wonderful times that still await Gerrie and I, the love we will share and the memories we will make. And yes, I will continue to dream of a day when I can walk down Main Street U.S.A. any day that I’d like. 

So, life goes on, but I will continue to dream.

This Blog Has Been Temporarily Delayed

Dear Readers:

I have really tried to be faithful in my commitment to myself when it comes to posting to my blog every Sunday. So far, it has worked. And I made a sincere effort to have something there this past Sunday. I had a nice post I was working on titled Traveling Light. 

Sadly, time has gotten away from me. I have changed employment and have been spending a good deal of time and energy making that transition. It is going great! Thank you for asking. At the same time, I had two free-lance projects that I committed to; one is done and one is nearly done. Add to that, that we are traveling to England in a few days and there is the whole packing adventure.

I say all this because the few of you who read these weekly missives are important to me and I apologize for the lack of content during the past few weeks and the next few weeks ahead. But you have my promise! When I return and settle down, I'll have things back on a regular track. Friends, this excites me! 

I told my wife the other day that when we come home from England, I'll come home knowing how to say 'no'. I'll also come home knowing how to say yes to all the very exciting things that lay ahead. Spring is here (though it hasn't felt that way here lately) and that means rebirth. I am ready for it!

See you soon. Take care. And may God Bless You!

Greg

I Dreamed of England

Gerrie and I used to live in England. This is not news. I have written here and there about our life there and a desire to live there once again. Yet, as in all things, life offers it’s twists and turns and the likelihood of again taking up residence in the United Kingdom appears distant. Still, it is a desire.

But while we wait for that day that may or may not come, we can still hold fast to our memories of life there. We can share our dreams of one day returning and we can make a visit home every now and then. That is what we are doing now.

We have spent this weekend pulling out and dusting off the luggage. We have sorted and re-sorted what cloths to take, and yes, we’ve come up with a few new things to take along. After all, when in England...

As we have gone through this exercise I have let my mind wander to the things that I miss most about England. There are a lot. We have made our lists of things we wish to do while we’re there but being careful not to put too much on the lists. Of the many things we would love to do, it has become more important to us spend time with old friends. In fact, of the twelve days that we’ll be, only four of them will be spent in London. Otherwise, we’ll be in the Midlands visiting in Leicester, Nuneaton and Hinckley; places an average visitor to England would most likely not visit, but home to our dearest of friends there. Who knows, we may manage a visit to Nottingham and up to the Peak District.

Exhausted following a climb in the Peaks

But now to some of the things that I miss.

I miss the taxi rides. I even miss the madness of the tube rides. 

Gerrie enjoying a brisk taxi ride

I miss taking a train to get to where I needed to go. 

I miss settling into a table in the side room of the Angel and Crown, pulling out my journal and spending a few hours writing. I used to do this over a pint or two of Caffrey’s Irish Cream Ale, but I understand that it is no longer on the menu.

I miss people watching at Leicester Square.

I miss the free museums. I would spend hours at the National Gallery in Trafalgar Square. In one room you could view Van Gogh’s Sunflowers and then set into the next room for Seurat’s Bathers at Asnières. Room 38 holds a nice collection of Canaletto’s, one of my favorite painters. Then there is Paul Delaroche’s painting, The Execution of Lady Jane Grey in Room 41 which is perhaps my favorite of the National’s collection. The way Delaroche used oil to present an almost satin look to the Lady’s dress and the delicacy of her hands will will hold my eyes for quite some time. This visit will hopefully include a stroll through the National, the Tate Modern and a few hours in the British Museum.

A day spent at the British Museum

I miss rummaging through the booksellers scattered around the city. It may be the small shops with tables outside near the British Museum in the lanes between Leicester Square and Covent Garden (I suppose they are still there). Waterstone's at Trafalgar Square was a favorite as well.

I miss stepping into the cheap London souvenir shops where I wouldn't purchase anything, but would have a chuckle at what people would actually buy to commemorate their time in the City. I would never buy those types of things. Right?

I miss an late afternoon glass of red and a plate of English cheeses at the Crusting Pipe in Covent Garden. There was no room for writing here as the time was spent listening to classical trios and quartets or being serenaded by the Royal Opera or English National Opera hopefuls. The Flower Duet from Lakmé is a personal favorite (it was played at our wedding as Gerrie came down the aisle). 

An afternoon at the Crusting Pipe

I miss walking through Hyde Park or stopping by a corner market and collecting a few things for a picnic in St. James’s Park. This was usually a pre-packaged egg salad sandwich and bag of Walker’s Salt & Vinegar Crisps. 

There is so much that I miss, but these things are the things I hope to not miss in a few weeks. There will be a few other things that we’ll accomplish. Gerrie wishes to spend a few hours in the Portobello Road Market and I want to visit Kensington Park to capture a good photograph of the Peter Pan statue. Taken together, these things will complete my hopes for London.  

Years ago I dreamed of living in England. Then we did. These past few years have been spent dreaming of England from time to time. It is exciting to know that in a few weeks  time I’ll once more walk on “England’s green and pleasant land.” And though I’ll do a few things that the tourist do, I will not be a tourist. I’ll be a friend who is making a journey to visit old familiar haunts and to have a cup of tea with dear friends. 

After all, when all is said and done, it is our families and friends (both near and far) that give meaning to life. In that, I am most truly blessed!

Love These Kids

I woke up this morning to the smell of bacon. Always a good way to wake up. Gerrie and I had most of our grandchildren over to spend the weekend, which means regular sleeping arrangements are abandoned. On grandchildren weekends, the guys sleep upstairs and the gals sleep downstairs. So, the smell of bacon prompted me to journey downstairs.

Going down the steps I thought a bit about my need to write sometime today. Then I got a little discouraged. Perhaps it isn’t true for all bloggers, but I tend to become disenchanted with the whole blog thing when it seems it isn’t being read. Though I shouldn’t. I don’t write Sharing the Good Times to reach the masses. Certainly it would be wonderful if a lot of people tuned in each Sunday to see what I came up with, but that is not why I write it and the masses tuning in is not the case. 

I knew from the beginning that I was writing this for myself and for my children and grandchildren. If anyone else wanted to come along for the ride, that was fine. I write it to share my experiences and thoughts with my family, but occasionally I may pen something that would be interesting or thoughtful to others. I try to do that when I can. And too, these past few weeks have left little time to write; even for the family. Let's be honest here, transitioning from one place of employment to another can be a little stressful.

Anyway, I head downstairs, say good morning and kiss and hug my wife. I tell her I have to write something today but wonder why I bother. I have had only five visits to the page in the past three weeks. Granted, there hasn't been much to read. But still. Then, Gerrie does what she does so well. She gently reminded why I do this in the first place. “Remember, you write it for yourself and for your kids.”

She is a wise lady, my wife!

Here are some of the reasons I write this. Let me introduce four of my five grandchildren and my nephew.

Devon

Shelby

Emmery

Jackson

Christian (my nephew)

And here are the five of them displaying just a bit of their attitude during yesterday's visit to the Nashville Zoo.

Unfortunately our grandson Luke wasn't along for the outing. He went to the zoo on Friday and decided he didn't want to go again the very next day. That was probably a good thing. I understand he has a massive science project due tomorrow.

Here you are, just a few of the reasons why I try to write. One day I'll bound up these weekly installments and give them each a copy. Sort of my way to say I was here and to tell them that I love them!

I do. I love these kids! 

Apologies again...

Two weeks in a row, but I promise this is not a trend. It has been a busy weekend, what with planning a long overdue trip to the United Kingdom, preparing to transition jobs, oh, and a wonderful evening at the Nashville Symphony.

I hope; I plan to be back on track next weekend.

Until then...

Apologies

When I began writing Sharing the Good Times, I committed myself to writing something for every Sunday. So far, I have been faithful to that commitment and I suppose this apology will count towards it as well.

However, this is extent of my post for today; an apology. An apology that I have nothing else prepared to post at this time. Time, and an upcoming change, were my enemy. 

Instead of writing yesterday, I chose instead to spend time with friends traveling to southern Kentucky for lunch at Patti's 1880's Settlement. It was the correct choice. I am also preparing to change employment. Beginning on March 5th, I'll begin working as the Executive Assistant to the CEO of The Hermitage, Home of President Andrew Jackson! The change required that spend a large part of my day preparing items for my departure from my present position. This left me little time to write.

So, my apologies for this short notice and I sincerely hope to resume writing in time for next Sunday.

Have a wonderful week everyone.

If I Were A Rich Man

     “If I were a rich man,

     Yubby dibby dibby dibby dibby dibby dibby dum.

     All day long I’d biddy bibby bum.

     If I were a wealthy man.”

I played Tevye last year. I loved playing with that song. Great fun.

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We took a drive yesterday to the Radnor Lake State Natural Area. Gerrie’s sister Karen is in town and Karen’s son, Josh, recommended we all take a Saturday morning hike at the lake. It was a brisk morning, slightly overcast, but still a good morning for walking.

The lake is located in the southern part of the county and in an area that is considerably more affluent that where we live. This prompted my nephew to ask from the backseat, “Does this make you think of ‘If I Were A Rich Man?’” My first thought was to say not really. Being wealthy, in the monetary sense, is something that I will never be. So I don’t give much thought to it. Yet, something about the question made me stop and think for a moment. What would I do if I were a rich man?

I continued driving towards the lake, pass some incredible homes. Then I thought, this isn’t what I’d want. Sounds odd doesn’t it. But it is true. I don’t think I’d live a big house or drive whatever car one drives when one is wealthy. No, I think if I were a wealthy man I would do quite well in a small house.

I’d use some money to purchase a good amount of land; wooded and pasture. I’d want a nice spring fed stream running though it with maybe a small pond. In a nice stand of trees, not far from the stream or pond, would be an old frame house or maybe a cabin. It would have a few rooms; a parlor, a dining area, one bedroom for Gerrie and I with a second one for guests, and then a room that would be where Gerrie and I would do the things we love to do. There we’d write or draw, maybe a small easel where I’d paint, and there would be a place for me to work on my photography and store my camera gear.

Throughout, our small house would be photographs of our family and friends, of places we’ve traveled and framed prints of some my better photographic efforts. Books would abound and setting about here and there would be the things we’ve collected. This would include those little curiosities that we find during our walks. 

Our front yard would be carpeted with soft green grass and scattered about would be daffodils, blue bells, and a host of other flowers in season. Wildflowers would be to the left and right of some of the paths we’d walk. A wide variety of trees would fill our woods.

This is where I’d live if I were a rich man. But I'm not a rich man.

No wait, I am. But just not in the sense that the world defines it. I am rich because of the family that I am a part of and because of the friends that I share life with. I am rich in the experiences that I had and my dreams are rich with the experiences that I hope to have. And, I am rich because of my faith. My faith keeps me focused on a goal; on a finish line, that is not of this world! With all this, I am a very wealthy man indeed. 

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And about that visit to Radnor Lake, here are a few photos.