Walking Your Own Path

 Andrew and I, after putting the kids to bed, sat and talked, and renewed our decision to keep doing what we're doing with our lives. I have learned, long ago, not to worry about what other people do or say. If it doesn't affect me, then I'm not going to let it. I don't care what color you are, what job you have, what sexual preference you have, whether you are thin, fat, short, tall, deaf, hearing, wheelchair, missing a limb...  if you are nice to me, I'll be nice to you. If I don't know you, I won't be talking about you. And if I do know you, I won't be talking about you behind your back to other people.

I can't be worried about anyone else's path but my own. If I keep worrying about that person planting flowers along their path, or someone else hacking away weeds on their path, or yet another person straying away onto someone else's path, I'm going to neglect my own path. I'm going to trip on a root or my path will develop pot holes and I'll fall face-first into a mud puddle. I need to take care of my path, keep it trimmed and neat, decorate it with some daisies and lovely weeping willows along the path.  I might not always see what is at the end of the path, but I am going to enjoy walking my path. Worrying about someone's path will cause to me to miss the beauty in my own path-- that lovely pond just behind that rise, or the butterflies flitting among the dogwood branches, the nest of bird eggs in the limbs above my head and turtles sunning on logs in the bright sunshine.

I have made my share of mistakes, strayed off my path plenty of times and lucky for me, found my way back. I am walking where I want to be in my life-- living out in the country with my lovely husband, my four children, my home, my animals, my garden...  I wouldn't change a thing. THIS is where I want to be.

Lucky for me, my husband shares the same life goals with me and we made the mutual decision to take that leap away from the city into the country life. We didn't wait until we retired to move here, we did it while still young enough to do things that would otherwise break down our older bodies. True, we might have had more money if we waited until retirement and could hire someone to do the work, but where's the fun in that? This way, we can honestly say we did it ourselves and we learned from our mistakes and turned those errors into successes.

I know I'm on the right path and I truly belong here. I can't let what other people say or think keep me from doing what makes me happy. It's been 7 years since we moved here and soon it will be 14 years since I married Andrew. Absolutely no regrets. Zero. I'd do it all over again, because changing even one thing would change the end results, and I like where I'm at. Poor, yes, but happy. Oh, so happy!

Hard Lessons

Poor Evelyn.

She had a couple of hard life lessons to learn recently.

First, she took out her anger at her sister and destroyed an article of clothing. Big no-no. Her punishment was an apology, of course, and to also replace that item. So we took them to the thrift shop so Gretchen could pick out a replacement and Evelyn had to pay for it with her own money.

Lesson One.

We went next door to the grocery store to pick up a few items and for some reason, they all seemed to have taken a silly pill which resulted in poor behavior at the store. I hate when they act up like that and all I want to do is to hurry up, pay, and get out of there! Just as we were ringing out, Evelyn gasped and she said she lost her wallet!

Oh, no!

We quickly parked the cart to the side and marched up and down the aisles.  I wish I could say we found it, but no such luck. It was a cute little fabric wallet she made out of yellow cowboy fabric and held all of her dollars, probably close to $25. Went to the front desk to leave a note and a number to call if it turns up. One more check through the aisles and it was time to go.

When we got to the car, I told her I knew exactly how she felt, I once lost my birthday money when I was about her age and I remember checking at the front desk for weeks afterwards, hoping it would show up. I know it was no consolation to her to hear that Mama knows how she feels-- right now she is just so upset with losing it. I told her, in the future, she needs to leave her money at home, hold on to it tightly, or give it to Mama or Daddy for safe-keeping.

Lesson Two.

After we got home, she asked quietly if we could have a bowl of ice cream to soothe her pain. Ok, just this once.  Hopefully, some nice person found it and turned it in. We'll call tomorrow and again in a couple of days to see if it turned up, but I'd be very, very surprised if we ever saw it again.

Losers

I was playing Chinese Checkers with Evelyn the other day. I love Chinese Checkers.

I played a lot when I was a kid, and when no one wanted to play with me,

I played against myself. I think I'm a pretty good player, I can get from one side to the other quickly.

I played two games with Evelyn and won both times.

She got quite upset.

I told her to keep trying, to pay attention to how I play and she may pick up some winning moves.

The third game, she just started imitating my every move, but it only confused her and she lost again.

I showed her some tricks, that it helps to make what I call a "ladder" with her marbles.

The fourth game was close, I helped and moved a few of her marbles to help her understand the ladder trick, and it ended with her one marble behind me when I put my final marble home.

She nearly burst into tears because I won again, but I gave her props for being so close behind me and almost winning. She started feeling better when I told her that we'd play again the next day and she just might beat me then.

I don't believe in letting kids win all the time.  It was different when they were toddler-aged, when winning a game encouraged and motivated them to play more and in playing, they learned sportsmanship and whatever else the game taught.  As they get older, they need to learn that there are winners and losers. Sure, it'd be nice to win all the time, but it isn't realistic and it doesn't teach them anything, except maybe to get cocky.

Of course I don't like to see my children cry, but I also know that I can't hand them everything they want. Losing gracefully now, at a child's game, may someday teach her how to deal with something in real life, when she is older. We don't lord it over them when we win, we give encouragement and compliments on a game well-played, and offer tips and tricks for next time. Hopefully they get fired up and try harder next time, learn from their mistakes and someday, they'll beat us for real, not because we let them win.

Don't Give Up

Gretchen gives up easily. She puts forth a little effort, then when it looks like it's going to take a lot of work, or it's not going the way she wants it to, she throws in the towel. Or tries to get someone else to do the work for her.

She was trying to make one of those black crayon pictures-- you know, the kind you color in random shapes and colors with crayons, then color over in heavy black crayon, then place a paper over and draw on top. When you pick up the paper, the black came off where you drew and left pretty rainbow colored pictures.  Anyway, the heavy black crayon coloring part can wear a little hand out.  She kept asking me to take over for her, and I kept saying no. She'd pout, sit and stare at her project, scribble a little more, then ask me again to finish it for her. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

This was not going well.  She came to me one last time and when I said no, she crumpled it up, threw it on the floor, then stomped out. I called her back, gave her a little speech, but I could tell it was just bouncing off her little ears-- like talking to a brick wall. I tried another tactic-- my own picture.

Exhibit A, part 1: top

Exhibit A, part 2: middle

Exhibit A, part 3: bottom

I've been working on this poster for 20 years. Yup, 20. At least. I got this when I was around 18 or so, and worked on it little by little, coloring it in when I got inspiration. One summer at the beach I worked on this nearly every day at the bar. The most perfect spot to color: the height of the bar and the stools and the light coming in from the windows = bliss.

I collected my color pencils one at a time, slowly buying them as I needed a certain color. That dark blue sky used up 2 whole pencils! I couldn't afford the whole set all at once, so I settled for one or two pencils at a time, whenever I was close to an art store.

Then I got married and I only worked on it a little bit here and there. Then the kids came along and I think the last time I worked on this was when Evelyn was a baby, napping. It's been sitting in the same box as all the rolls of wrapping paper, and every time I need wrapping paper, my hand brushes over it and I'm reminded of it. I want to finish it. But it's so large. So overwhelming. There's a lot left to do! Then I remind myself-- One color at a time. One pencil at a time. Do one small picture at a time.

My latest addition: the gold ornamental doorway and the planet behind it.

This handsome Griffin was done three days ago.

Snake boy was finished four days ago.

If I had given up, I wouldn't have gotten this far. It may be another 20 years before I finish it, but I *will* finish it.

I showed this to Gretchen. You know what she said? "I'll help you finish it!"

She finally finished her picture. It took some tears and quite a bit of time, but she did finish it.

All by herself.

This one is going to go in the memory box.

Don't give up, Gretchen, good things come to those who keep going towards their goals.

xo