Life is sweet. It’s short. It’s busy. I am on the road a lot lately. My children are all grown up. How did that happen? I have struggles. I have joy. They have struggles. They have joy. I guess I will be in the ding-dang “eclipse traffic” tomorrow. I’m glad I will be inside when it happens and not looking at it. I know there are people who want to travel to see it. I guess that’s not me. Singing in the wedding went well. I had a great day in the shop yesterday. My sweetie just bought us Tex Mex at Chuys and now we are riding. Well I am riding. He is driving. We hope to practice tonight. Maybe some day I will see my dream of having an RV with him and traveling around playing gigs at coffee shops and restaurants. And there is nothing wrong with busking. 😉
My coworker and I pick on each other with that phrase: Run, Forest, Run!
My oh my, life is busy! My job has changed dramatically of late. I am very happy to always be learning new things and to continue to work for a great institution until retirement. I love clothes, so choosing outfits for work each day is a joy to me. On the other hand, it’s hard to adjust to change. Suffice it to say that “Ms. Ellie” and I are on the road a lot each week.
Meanwhile, life while off the clock is full of fun, beautiful things!
Today has been a day of just working outside and planning a few days of outings since I have some time off.
Well my baby is 19 today. That is hard to imagine! But believe me it’s real. She is quite the sweet pea!!
In other news, bridges are important, on roads and in life. I saw the doctor yesterday about my arm. He was just a baby. I remember back when I was younger than all my doctors. He toddled in wearing tight black pants and a purple shirt. The doctors of yore were rolling in their graves, especially as he said “got it,” every time I said half a sentence. I am to continue on with ice packs and ibuprofen. Got it!
Seems like I will always have a connection to pine trees. Some of you already know I grew up on the sandy soil of Moore County, North Carolina, where pine trees are king! Okay, not everyone likes them. They produce tar or sap. And pine cones. And pine needles. I hated my Saturdays in the yard picking up pinecones. My daddy would drive his little tractor around and either my sister or I (we alternated Saturdays) would stand on the back and ride around with him. He’d stop the tractor in various spots throughout our large yard and we would have to jump down and pick up all the pinecones in that area and put them in the little hitched-up trailer he was pulling. Those were the days.
These days, I miss that. I did love the pine trees in our yard. I used to enjoy picking at the bark and looking at the sap. I had heard growing up that you could chew the sap like chewing gum, though I never did. You can use the needles to make a healing tea. I used the trees as a way to balance myself when doing hand stands in the yard. We had the huge beautiful pinecones that people actually purchase now for crafts and decorations. We sat in the yard and braided pine straw. You can weave pine straw to make a basket. I have fond memories of pine trees, minus having to work on Saturdays! I do wonder though if that work made me love being outside like I do. Thank you, Daddy.
Pine trees were a part of colonial history for the Scots in North Carolina, who worked around them and made a business of them. The Piedmont Scots added pine products (tar for ships) to what was put on the Cape Fear river and sent to Wilmington. I love this bit of history from Learn NC.
“…pitch and tar rendered from the sap of pine trees and used to protect the hulls and rigging of wooden ships.”
“The native longleaf pines allowed crops to be planted without the backbreaking work of first removing all trees. Settlers removed a ring of bark from the pines, killing the trees; this caused needles to fall and sunlight to reach crops.”
And oh do I descend from a long line of Scots! The McNeills, Gilchrists, McKays, and Campbells to start with. The Hastys were from North Ireland, having migrated down from the lowlands of Scotland. On my mom’s side the Scots were all highlanders, many from the Outer Hebrides.