Showing posts with label home. Show all posts
Showing posts with label home. Show all posts

Friday, March 20, 2020

Going Home

Thought for the day: You can't go home again, because home has ceased to exist except in the mothballs of memory.  [John Steinbeck]

[image courtesy of morguefile]
Do you think that's true?

Is a yearning to go home nothing but useless nostalgia for a place that no longer exists?

And what IS home, anyway? Is it the place we came from... or is it the place we live now? Or perhaps we're like turtles, and no matter where we go, we take home with us?

[courtesy of morguefile}

I kinda agree with the concept that home is where the heart is... but what if our heart aches for a different place... where we once lived, or maybe someplace we'd like to live?

Well, then I reckon we have to suck it up, cupcake, and make the best of it.

But not always.



[image courtesy of Two Oceans Aquarium]


Meet Yoshi, a loggerhead turtle. Evidently, no one told HER you can't go home again.

In 1997, some Japanese fishermen found her... injured... off the coast of South Africa, and they took her to the fine folks at Two Oceans Aquarium, where she was treated, rehabilitated and trained to regain her strength. As she grew, she quickly became a crowd favorite at the aquarium.

                                   Here's a video of her at the aquarium in 2014:
     

                                             Um, yeah, she grew quite a bit over the years.

                                  In December of 2017, she was released back into the wild:


That gizmo on her back is a satellite tracking device. You know, so the folks at the aquarium... and around the world... could track her travels. And WOW! What a journey that ol' gal's been on.

[image courtesy of Two Oceans Aquarium]
The green marker indicates the place where she was released into the wild. From there, she headed up the west coast of Africa near Namibia and Angola. Then she turned around, went back to the area she'd been released and then headed across the Indian Ocean.

For the past 26 months, she's been swimming, swimming, swimming. Her destination? Evidently, to a loggerhead breeding and nesting area off the coast of Australia. This determined loggerhead turtle has doggedly swam more than 23,000 miles... without a break. Now that's determination. Could it be that the breeding ground is the place she was hatched... her home? Seems like an amazing possibility, doesn't it? After being in captivity for twenty years, something guided her to those breeding grounds.

[image courtesy of morguefile]
I like to think that she has, indeed, returned home.

At any rate, her journey is the longest, both in distance and longevity, that a tracking device has recorded.

She's quite the star. And hopefully, she'll be laying eggs of her own next breeding season.

Home is where one starts from. [T.S. Eliot]

No matter where you are, no matter where you may go, embrace that place, and I believe you will always feel... at home.


                                    Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

Friday, November 11, 2016

Understanding Veterans

Thought for the day:  The willingness with which our young people serve our country shall be directly proportional to the way they perceive our nation and how it treats our veterans. [George Washington]

Today is Veterans Day, a day devoted to honoring the men and women who have served in the military. These dedicated  people put their civilian lives on hold, and if need be, put their lives on the line to defend our way of life. They selflessly personify the meaning of words like honor, duty, and sacrifice.

Today, there'll be a smattering of small-scale parades throughout the country in their honor, and some restaurants will be offering them free meals. Then tomorrow, it'll be back to business as usual. For civilians. Not so much for many veterans. Shutting off the experiences of military duty, especially for those who experience combat, is much more difficult than most civilians realize.

The following was originally posted for Veterans Day in 2011 as We Owe Them. With some editing, here it is again. Hopefully, it will help promote better empathy for our veterans.

To all of you veterans....Thank you.

To those who died, honor and eternal rest; to those still in bondage, remembrance and hope; to those who returned, gratitude and peace. [engraved on the Illinois Vietnam Veterans memorial]

*****************

Thought for the day:  As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them.   [John F. Kennedy]


It's  Veterans Day, and although this day was set aside to honor all veterans, I'd like to dedicate this post to our combat veterans, in particular. There's a definite disconnect between those who fight our wars and those of us who remain safely at home. This is nothing new, but it's still troubling. The reality of war is such that when soldiers in Vietnam talked about returning home, they referred to it as going back to the world. And when they did come hometheir faces often wore a bone-chilling thousand yard stare. That stony expression didn't go away overnight, either; in many cases, it didn't go away for decades. If at all. I can say from experience that it took twenty years... twenty years... before my husband started resembling the easy-going man he was before he went to Vietnam.

In earlier wars, the lengthy ride home via ship allowed time for decompression. Not a lot, and certainly not enough, but more than our soldiers coming home from Nam got, and more than our soldiers returning from Iraq and Afghanistan get. One day, our soldiers are in a stress-filled war zone, and the next, they're sitting around the family table, shell-shocked, asking someone to please pass the eff-ing potatoes. (Yep, also from experience...)

And yet, many of us treat our soldiers as though they should simply put the war behind them. Get over it. 

It isn't that simple. Psychiatrist Jonathan Shay, author of Odysseus in America, describes what our returning soldiers face as follows:  In combat, you have to shut down those emotions that do not directly serve survival. So sweetness, the gentler forms of humor, grief --- all shut down. And this is profoundly disconcerting to families when a soldier comes back, and he seems to be made out of ice. It's not that he is irrevocably and permanently incapable of feeling anything. It's that this adaptation of shutting down those emotions that don't directly serve survival in combat is persisting. 

Registered nurse Alison L. Crane, a former Captain and mental health observer-trainer for the 7302 Medical Training Support Battalion, is all too familiar with the difficulties veterans face when trying to re-assimilate into civilian life. In 2007, in an attempt to help civilians better understand our returning soldiers. she produced a startling photographic essay, which I'm pleased to share with you now. Our veterans deserve not only our respect and appreciation, but our understanding, as well. Ms. Crane's photographic essay is called

                                                  WHEN A SOLDIER COMES HOME


 When a soldier comes home, he finds it hard to listen to his son whine about being bored.



                              ... to keep a straight face when people complain about potholes.




           ... to be tolerant of people who complain about the hassle of getting ready for work.


                        ... to be understanding when a coworker complains about a bad night's sleep.


                                        ... to be silent when people pray to God for a new car.



                           ... to control his panic when his wife tells him he needs to drive slower.


                     ... to be compassionate when a businessman expresses a fear of flying.


   ... to keep from laughing when anxious parents say they're afraid to send their kids off to summer camp.


                      ... to keep from ridiculing someone who complains about hot weather.



          ... to control his frustration when a colleague gripes about his coffee being cold.


             ... to remain calm when his daughter complains about having to walk the dog.



                                      ... to be civil to people who complain about their jobs.


             ... to just walk away when someone says they only get two weeks of vacation a year.


               ... to be forgiving when someone says how hard it is to have a new baby in the house.

                                                The only thing harder than being a soldier

                                                                      is loving one.

And when you meet one of our returning soldiers, please remember what they've been through, and show them compassion and tolerance.  [Pictures and text courtesy of Alison Crane]

A very special thank you to all our veterans out there. For all you non-vets, with an estimated 24.9 million veterans in the country, it should be fairly easy to find one to thank. God knows, they've earned it. How about making it a point to hug a vet today?

Congress should stop treating veterans like they're asking for a handout when it comes to the benefits they were promised, and they should realize that, were it not for these veterans, there would be nothing to hand out.   [ Nick Lampson -former Texas Congressman]

Let's end on a feel-good note, shall we? How about a video of soldiers being welcomed home by their four-legged best friends... HAPPINESS personified.



                                     Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.










Tuesday, July 2, 2013

A Praiseworthy Personality

Thought for the day:  Cities are not people. But like people, cities have their own personalities... [Neil Gaimon]

Do you think that's true? Does your town... or another town you know... have a distinct personality? Has it remained fairly constant over the years?

The smallish town where we live in Georgia re-branded itself a few years ago, so now its motto is a place to imagine. Kinda nice, even if I don't know exactly what the heck it's supposed to mean. Nonetheless, we've been here since 1971, and it's always been a great place to live, whether I imagined it or not.

        Our town has a bunch of beautiful old homes with sprawling wrap-around porches...

Gorgeous, aren't they? Not that we live in one of them. Then again, we don't have to pay to keep one of those high-ceiling beauties warm in the winter or cool in the middle of summer's sizzle, either. Our modest ranch house suits us just fine.

Downtown has a mixture of quaint shops, old businesses, and restaurants. The shop with the dark green awning is Taste of Britain, a veritable treasure trove of British teas, foods, and collectibles. The owners also host an annual British Fayre car show, accompanied by some great music. Even a wandering bagpiper! Across the street is the old historic train depot, which was transformed into a popular restaurant about a decade ago. Considering how small the downtown area is, there are quite a few restaurants, including an outstanding pub, two Italian eateries, and a Cuban American restaurant boasting the best mojitas in all of greater Atlanta.

Our little town has lots of things going for it, like lots of street festivals, a couple other car shows, a community theater, home tours, carriage rides, and some pretty interesting community art projects. Like earlier this year...  many of the trees throughout the city were painted ... blue.


And in another project, the town was yarn bombed. Colorful crocheted and knitted pieces decorated trees, fences, signs, and light posts. These pictures of yarn-bombed trees are especially for you, Elephant's Child. I hope you like them...







                                     Oh, wait! Wait! I have to show you our frogs, too!




Pretty neat, huh? Whimsical. Yeah, whimsical. I guess that's why I like them so much. So, yeah, I'd have to say our town definitely has a personality. It's ever-changing, but it's never-boring. And in spite of its diversity, if it were represented by a flavor, it wouldn't be mojitas. Nope, not at all. It'd be sweet tea.

On Friday, we're gonna take a look at my old home town... Baltimore. Trust me, it has personality... and spice... out the wazoo. Happy Fourth of July, y'all! I hope you have a bang up time.

[Ooops, didja know a pre-scheduled post will only go live at the proper time if ya remember to set the darned time right? 12:34]

                                  Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

If our town had a scent, it would be magnolias.

Monday, November 5, 2012

Palm Trees and Party Animals

Thought for the day:  Always be kind to your dentist. After all, he has fillings, too.






Looooosy, I'm hooooome!









Okay, if you wanta be technical about it, we've been back in town for more than a week, but lots of things had to be done. No sense posting on my blog if I don't have time to visit your blogs, right? Anyhow, I'm caught up now, and ready to dive back into the good ol' blogosphere again.

Yep, we're home. (sigh) No grandchildren scrambling to sit on our laps. (But the cats are all over us.) No palm trees swaying in the breeze. (But I did go outside and rake a boatload of leaves... twice.)

Those palm trees in the picture are at the resort where we stayed in Florida. To me, there's something exotic and romantic about them, and I love the way they looked against the sky. To our son, who lives in Florida and sees them day in and day out, those same trees are ugly. Go figure.

But I reckon that's true about a lot of things. Stone Mountain is a totally cool-looking carved mountain here in Georgia, but it's probably safe to say that most people who see it every day take it for granite. (Sorry.)

No matter how many times we drive south, I always get excited about a bunch of things that other people probably think of as ugly or ordinary. I look forward to seeing them, and get all excited when they come into view. Like the palm trees. And like this. You could say I cotton to this stuff.

Yep, fields and fields of fluffy cotton. If you've never seen these plants before, they aren't very tall. In fact, they're really short, like maybe knee-high, if that, and looking at them, it's easy to imagine what hard work it must have been to pick by hand... bending over all day in the hot Georgia sunshine. Makes my back hurt just to think about it.

Smarticus insists these critters are nothing more than rats on the half-shell, but I love 'em. Armadillos look like prehistoric creatures to me, and I'm always on the look-out for them when we hit south Georgia and Florida. All I can say is they must have been doing some pretty serious partying recently, because every single one I saw was sleeping it off on the side of the road. (Shut up! They were taking a NAP, I tell you!)
Oh, and how about those trees dripping with Spanish moss? Even if it weren't getting close to Halloween, these big ol' trees provide a certain spooky atmosphere. Especially at night.









I'm a huge fan of egrets, too. (And herons.) For some reason, I didn't see any on the ride down this year. Made me wonder if they'd been partying with the armadillos and were off in the woods somewhere nursing a hangover. But they must have bounced back quickly, because we saw plenty of them while we were in Florida.


And of course, all around the Orlando area, there are scads of orange groves. It's amazing how short most of those trees are, but yet, still bulging with fruit. I guess the farmers must keep them trimmed that way for easy harvesting, but it's still surprising to see trees shorter than I am with all that fruit on them. I've never been there to experience it, but when all those trees are covered with blossoms, the scent must be absolutely heavenly. Better than any perfume.



Of course, the very BEST thing for me to see in Florida is always our family. Here's three of our granddaughters. Ella, in the blue shirt, is five, and she had the audacity to ask her grandfather if he ever had hair on the top of his head. (HA!) Persephone is six, and she's a self-taught gymnast. Does cartwheels, back flips, and hand stands. (Even on one hand!) Just watching her aged us ten years. Olivia is two, and I really must teach her how to spell. She has an aversion to, and a serious melt-down, every time she hears the word NO... or KNOW...

Anyhow, it's good to be home. In the next few posts, I'll tell you about some really neat places to visit in the Sunshine State. (And I'm not talking Mickey Mouse!)

In the meantime, what do you look for when you travel? Armadillos? Spanish moss? What? Do tell.

                                  Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

By the way, you guys rock. Thank you so much for all your terrific comments on my last post. I read every one of them, and appreciate them all, but I'm not gonna respond to them at this late date. (Does anybody ever go back to look for a response, I wonder...?) (Um, I mean, besides ME...)

Anyhow, THANKS!

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

On Coming and Going Home

Thought for the day: I take my children everywhere, but they always find their way back home. [Robert Olen]

Honey, I'm ho-o-ome.

Well, if ya really want to be technical about it. I've actually been home for a few weeks, but I was double-doggone determined to finish editing my poor neglected novel before dipping my tootsies back into the blogosphere again. Well, (ta-DA!) I did it! And the manuscript is already (Already??? Who am I kidding? FINALLY!) in the hot little hands of  a small publishing company's editorial team. ( I don't expect to hear anything from them for several months.)

So. Time to dive back in here with y'all. I'm ho-o-ome...

T.S. Eliot said, Home is where one starts from. If that's true, does that make Baltimore my home? I mean, that's where my hubby and I both started. When we drove up there for a visit last month, were we actually... going home? Or were we coming home when we left there and came back to Georgia? As Yul Brenner said, It is a puzzlement!

According to Robert Frost, Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.  And Maya Angelo called home ...  the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.


Ahhhh, HOME. A place where we're always welcome. A safe place, where we belong, and where we're missed when we leave. Sounds all warm and fuzzy, doesn't it? Yes sir, tugs at the ol' heartstrings.

But, wait a sec! Thomas Wolfe claimed, You can't go home to your family, back to your childhood...




Is it possible that the warm fuzzy images... of our old hometowns, of our childhoods... are nothing more than (gasp!) drawings in the sand? And those old realities as we remember them have long since been washed away by the waves of time?

Well, duh.




Yeah, there's a certain amount of heartache in visiting the old haunts, and in realizing how many ghosts from the past are just that ... ghosts. Gone forever. There's a certain amount of sadness in visiting the places where dead loved ones once lived and loved.

And yet...  and yet... how wonderful to spend time with family and friends who still live in our old hometown, who share a common history with us, who also remember, and ache for, some of the same ghosts and memories of the past as we do. Who remember us when we were young and foolish, who can laugh with us over shared memories. So, YES! Home is where the heart is, and no matter what ... a part of our hearts will forever linger in our old hometowns, in our childhoods, in our past. Nostalgia is what tugs at our heartstrings, and what calls us back home. 

                                                  Think this guy's gonna make it back home?



Know what? I think the best part of going on vacation is coming back home again. And no matter how much we enjoyed visiting our old hometown, no matter how much we enjoyed spending time with my hubby's mother, sister and her family, it was a vacation...  and our home... is in Georgia. 

So, what do you think defines a home? We all know a house doesn't make a home. (Dionne Warwick told us that years ago.) Is it ... wherever you hang your hat? A state of mind? Are you like a tortoise, carrying your concept of home around with you, and so comfortable inside your own skin that no matter where you are, you're... at home? What do you love most about your home? Is it the people (and critters) you share it with? The things?  Memories? Can you go back home again?

Okay, enough. It's great to be back, babbling about house and home. But ya know what? As Danielle Raine wrote, The cruel irony of housework: people only notice when you don't do it. So, doggone it, I'd better DO it, before somebody (not mentioning any names) starts noticing ...

                                      Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.