Just a little more than usual
In Jerusalem, Old City. I’d have to say the times we ate in a small place in the Muslim Quarter that served traditional cuisine– hummus, falafel, salads, schwarma, fresh pita bread, Turkish coffee.
The first thing that came to mind was fish and chips in Seahouses, England, but they served peas as a side, and the fries just weren’t the same as we have ’em in the States. I still finished what was on my plate, though.
Unsanitized history, and how to get along with each other.
And looking back, I wish there had been a compulsory trades class– carpentry, plumbing, electric and such.
I know we have pictures somewhere, but I couldn’t find any of Casey, a brownish Lhasa Apso/Jack Russell mix who was part of the household from 2001 until the spring of 2013, from 3 kids in the house to empty nest time.
We haven’t had a dog since, for a few reasons– we like the freedom of not having to worry about vet bills and boarding when we go away, and it was really hard to let her go when she finally got so sick that we had to have her put down. I haven’t been in any hurry to go through that again.
Casey didn’t like fireworks or thunderstorms, and I remember that it was always a bit of an adventure taking her for a walk, because when she got anywhere near another dog, she would go ballistic. Every time. She was a good buddy, but could be a bit high strung and anxious.
Looking back, I think it was a collective, ongoing acquisition, more from watching and listening than from any one thing someone said. I grew up in a family that was often gathering for one reason or another, mostly for food and fellowship. Multiple generations were usually present, and it was difficult not to hear things, not to notice behavior and tones of voice and the occasional pearl of wisdom from one elder or another.
For better or worse, my own view of the world and how to behave in it was formed over the course of those years of get-togethers. There was love there, regular reminders that people cared about each other, even as we grew to make our own decisions about whose voice carried more weight, and who was just blowing smoke.
Keeping a schedule, structuring my day. All that went away when I retired almost five years ago.
I guess the downside is that the pendulum has swung 180 degrees and the lack of a schedule or any structure occasionally weighs on me for different reasons. I feel pressure to be busy, to be occupied, but I have little desire for this. I think I could be content with writing all day.
I don’t miss being around people at all, though it is nice to hop on a plane or jump in the car and take a trip, visit with family every now and then.
I’ve never read any of the Harry Potter books, but I came across a quote from J.K. Rowling from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone that strikes a chord: “It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.” I have no idea of the context for this, but it resonates with me, if only because it speaks to being so wrapped up in what could be that we overlook, avoid, or don’t recognize opportunities or serendipitous moments that might be staring us in the face and have a bearing on what actually is.
There are many others that could speak to my outlook on life, including one from E.B. White: “If the world were merely seductive, that would be easy. If it were merely challenging, that would be no problem. But I arise in the morning torn between a desire to improve the world and a desire to enjoy the world. This makes it hard to plan the day.“
Indeed.
There are many places in this country that we haven’t visited yet– The Upper Peninsula of Michigan, Teddy Roosevelt National Park in North Dakota; Yellowstone, Yosemite, Sequoia, Sand Dunes and Rocky Mountain National Parks, along with less well known spots all over this land.
I’d like to travel to Japan and visit for a while, also Australia and New Zealand; maybe pay a visit to relatives in Sweden and venture into the other Scandinavian countries. And Iceland.
I guess that’s more than 10.
Every time this topic appears, I choose something different. So this time around, I’ll use one from Bertrand Russell, since it seems a propos of the times in which we live:
The fact that an opinion has been widely held is no evidence that it is not utterly absurd.
Get your own house in order, and all that. Take yourself seriously enough, but not so much that you see no one else.
And remember– Donald Trump is no one’s role model. He is indeed one of a kind, and that’s one too many.
Maybe a cross between Charlie Brown and George Bailey. Charlie is loyal and a bit wishy-washy, though at times can be quite determined; George is haunted by unfulfilled dreams and worried that his presence in the world has made little difference to anyone.
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