Cool People.

Do you want to hear how lucky I am?  How fortunate, or blessed?
Whelp.  Here is the deal.

I know a LOT of cool people.

I am not bragging in any way.  Honestly.  It just so happens that when I was born, the “Friend God” must have had a surplus in her duffle bag.  And she doled out a whole bunch of them on me…. who I have known at varying points in my life.

Cool People.  Good Friends.

The have come in all shapes and sizes, from all walks of life, and varying ages.  They are from different backgrounds, different parts of the world, and divergent religions.  Some are even…… ….. Republicans.  And I don’t even hold it against them.

But seriously.  I am in a very auspicious way because of this.

Tonight, we had a couple of old friends over for dinner, and the evening was interesting, fun, and never short on conversation.  We laughed, we pondered, we joked, we even felt despair.  But what a good feeling to have a connection such as this one…. with others.

With friends.
With those very Cool People.

And, with that, I must always be sure to give thanks.  To offer thanks to you.   For being on of the cool people in my life.

The greatest gift of life is friendship, and I have received it.
— Hubert H. Humphrey
Let us be grateful to people who make us happy, they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.
— Marcel Proust

This, is not a Blog.  I mean it.  While it may fall into the loose definition of a blog… a personal website (or web page) on which an individual records opinions, links to other sites, etc. on a regular basis…..  it simply is not.

I have called it a column at times, and it isn’t really that either.  And then it  hit me, just a few moments ago.  To me, it is more like a family.  Or a community.  It feels especially so, when there is a lot of yammering back and forth.  When I write something, and everyone has something to say.  I love it when this happens.

Maybe it is because I chose NOT to write about religion or politics this week.  And a  LOT of people responded to my discussion which wasn’t about religion or politics.

It is fun for me most of the time.  It is also a lot of work every night, at least for a couple of hours, once everything is written, once an image has been made, and the whole lot of it posted.  But it has become a part of me, somehow.  And there are times when, as I mentioned, it feels like some sort of family.

Like a cross between the Munsters, the Cleavers, the Bunkers, and Mrs. Gladys Kravitz.  THAT kind of family.

I don’t write a word of this until after 10 p.m. or so, when my day is pretty much done.  In fact, most of the time, I try not to actively think of a topic.

And that’s how it works.

But there certainly ARE times when it feels like community.  Like this morning…

My early day started around 5 a.m. on this Friday.  The dogs go out, come in, eat breakfast and hang out, while I do my morning things.  But this morning, Max and Frances wanted to go back out.  So I let them.

Around 7 a.m. Frances came back…. but no Max.  We live on about 40 acres.  And they stay mostly around the house, especially Max.  Most of the times, it does not worry me when they are out.  But when I saw France and no Maxie … I got nervous.

I started looking for her immediately.  Segue:  We are doing a Barn Restoration on our property.  This morning was concrete-pouring day.  I walked out to where the guy was working.  At this point, Mary had joined me.  I asked him if he had seen our little gray dog.  He said, “Sure.  She might be down in trench somewhere.  She went down there about an hour ago or so.”

WHAT?  I am a little upended on the inside.  I look down through the trench… where they will begin pouring concrete ANY TIME NOW…. looking for our deaf, blind, senile OLD dog.  Aaaaannnnd.  There she was.  Trapped underneath the rebar grid.  Belly to the ground, chin to the ground, sprawled eagle … nowhere to run or hide.

I got down in the trench and lifted her out, weaving her through the rebar …. and up to Mary.

We were only about 15 minutes away from the concrete truck getting here. What if I had not gone out?  Would old Elmo the Concrete Guy have remembered that there was a little dog down in the trench from an hour ago?  We would always have wondered what happened to little Max… and the tears would flow.  I would be out in that barn in a year or two… still thinking of her… never knowing what became of her… and THERE she would be…  alllll Jimmy Hoffa RIGHT UNDERNEATH MY FEET.

That little Maxine told me about the entire ordeal…. all the way back to the house.  And when I settled down… I said out loud… “I’m going to have to tell everybody about THIS ONE.”

And by everybody… I mean you…..and you.  And you.  The Blog Family.

Yep.  Just call us The Blogs.  And I love you for it.

…. …. and…. Thanks.

Respect is what we owe; love, what we give.
— Philip James Bailey

A person’s a person, no matter how small.
— Dr. Seuss

If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you, it will be enough.
— Meister Eckhart

Have you ever shared a cigarette with someone on a warm summer’s evening?  Or rolled down a hill, when the grass was slightly damp from the morning dew, and laughed with every thump of your body against the earth?   Have you ever watched the sun come up over the horizon, all by your very self?

I have a pair of gym shoes. They are a mint green color.  Every time I wear them, I feel like Marsha Brady.  Not because my younger sister Jan, is hopelessly jealous of me.  No.  It directly results from the episode when Masha was doing some cheer leading.  The shoes she wore remind me of these.  Her shoes were white, I think… or maybe dark blue.  Nonetheless, they weren’t mint green.

Here is another thing.  When I think of Mint Green, I don’t think of the Mint plant.  I don’t even think about the Mint of the U.S. Treasury.  I think of Mint-Chocolate-Chip-Ice-Cream-Green.

Where am I going with all of this?   Here.  Right here.

Every moment…. every experience… each and every happening and occurrence in our lives.. has some bearing or influence on this very moment in our lives.  It is all connected.  One thing hinging on the rest.

Each banana split we’ve tasted,  every roller coaster ride,  all the tears and triumphs, every single card game we’ve played… is influencing this moment right now.  And every subsequent moment to come.

I talk about this like I’ve done experiments to know this is true.  I assure you I have not.   But I also can assure you that others have.  Every perception we have is built on past knowledge…. built on outside influence. Sometimes, it seems, we don’t get our memories quite right either.

When you start delving in to all of this … the whole lot of it seems complicated.  Everything is so very connected and intertwined.  At the same time, the world seems like a hugely expansive place.  Sometimes, the life force appear incredibly elaborate, intricate, and highly perplexing.

And then I will open the wrapper of a candy bar, and it will remind me of my 10th birthday.  Or I will see a small glass baby food jar, and it will take me down to the tool room which my Dad kept so neatly at our home in Dayton.

And those are the times when it seems to fit together so very perfectly…. so simply…. ….. and so lovely.

Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.
— Soren Kierkegaard

Nothing is a waste of time if you use the experience wisely.
— Auguste Rodin

A mind that is stretched by a new experience can never go back to its old dimensions.
— Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.

Pleased to meet you. Won’t you guess my name.
Who are The Rolling Stones?

Somewhere down in the Black Mountain Hills of Dakota, there lived a young boy named…
Who are The Beatles?

I’ve seen sunny days that I thought would never end.
Who is James Taylor?

Jeopardy.  I really like that show.  Alex Trebek and all.

But it is the act of shouting out of the answers in the form of a question… right at the TV… while I’m eating dinner, or doing dishes… or working on a connect-the-dot puzzle.  It makes no difference.

Who is Diane Ross and The Supremes?
Who is Perry Como?

HA!  All five.  I killed the category!

Oh, the thrill of it all.

Okay, let’s face it. I’m pathetic. But that is beside the point.  I like the show, I just can’t understand why they named it Jeopardy.

Jeopardy is pretty much defined as a danger of loss, or being in harm’s way, or…  in risk of failure.  I guess maybe if you get the answer wrong… in the form of a question, of course ….  you are in jeopardy of losing money?

But you start out with zero dollars.  And they don’t make you pay any money back if you get a negative score…. so what’s the jeopardy?

Nope.  I would have named it “Bass-ackwards”….  or “Rewsna”  or something like that.  Maybe “Your Intellectual Snobbery is showing right through your shirt.”  But not “Jeopardy.”

Now I’ve been in Jeopardy quite a few times in my life.  Year’s ago…. I didn’t give it much thought at all.  I would simply forge ahead.  Leap first.  Look later.  Most of the time, this turned out to be completely ineffective.

I think the older we get… the more experience we have gained.  And as a result… we are a bit wiser than we were in our invincible youth.  At least…  I hope so.

These days, if I find myself in jeopardy, I find it best to slow myself down.  Perhaps, I consult a loved one for advice. Or meditate / pray.  Or even… on occasion… I have a dream with some obscure reference… and my big brother has to point it out to me.  Nonetheless…. the results are much better as a whole.

On the other hand, if I find myself in Jeopardy… I shout out… at the top of my lungs… “WM for $200 Alex.”

What is Wigwam?
What is Warm?
What is Webcam?
What is Worm?
What is Wisdom?

And there, my friends…. you have it.

A person who never made a mistake never tried anything new.
— Albert Einstein

The only source of knowledge is experience.
— Albert Einstein

Earlier in this day, I came across this hook, lying on the ground.  I am fairly certain, this isn’t where it belongs.  Where it belongs.

And that reminded me… about me.  I am pretty adament about putting things where they belong.  My organizational skills are off the charts, if I must say so myself.

And I must say so myself, because no one else will.  But seriously, I am “a place for everything, and everything in it’s place” kind-of-gal.  I have this little ailment, most folks know as OCD.  Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.  In fact, I am so OCD, I think the letters should really read DCO, for order’s sake.

But that’s not the point.  I keep things where they belong.  And I like those things clean.  And that is my deal.

I don’t sort my peas from my mashed potatoes.  I don’t lock doors 5 or 10 times, over and over again. (I may check them once or twice though). I will definitely step on cracks.  My Mom is 91…. and she has yet to break her back.

So my OCD is sort of selective.
But that’s not the point either.

Sometimes I am TOO organized.

As I mentioned earlier, I live by the “a place for everything” pledge.  But on occasion, I will acquire something that does not yet have a place.  And therein lies the problem.

First… the conundrum.  Where the heck should it’s place be?  I’ve never had a widget before.  Where do widgets belong?  Once I have established this, in my organized brain, I carefully stow that little “something” in its designated place.

Much of the time, this pattern of behavior is successful for me.  You see… the next time I need the “widget”…. which I just put away… I will be able to find that widget.

However…. there have been incidents.  Every now and again, I cannot remember… in my aforementioned organized brain….WHERE I put my dang widget.

I search high and low.  To and fro.  But to no avail.  No widget.

.. …… … uhhhhnnnnn…. truth be told….. this happens  a little more often than I suggested.  In fact… it happens a lot.

It frightens me a little.  It is the “not knowing” whatever became of all those widgets….

One day… I just know I am going to open a closet somewhere, and a blue million widgets will come pouring out of there… falling right on my head… just like a scene from an old movie.  All of those misplaced items… lying on the floor… misplaced.

NOWWWW….. where do they belong?  Where do they go?

And that is what brought me to this.  I spend a lot of time, trying to figure out where I belong.  Where I belong in life, in purpose, in direction.  Where I belong in all this space and time.

Sometimes, I fit in perfectly, and I am useful, and I feel found.  Other times… I fall out… all over the place… scattered on the floor with all the other misplaced widgets.

I guess, I should just be thankful for the times when it all fits rather nicely.  And when it doesn’t?  I may not understand it…. in the moment.  But perhaps.. I am exactly where I am supposed to be.  Maybe.

Today was Labor Day, as you may have noticed.

It is a lot of different things, to a lot of different people.  For instance, the National Hot Dog and Sausage Council says that between Memorial Day and Labor Day…. we Americans will eat 7 billion hot dogs.

I have not had one all summer long.  Nada.  Not even in the form of a Corn Dog.  A crying shame, I know.   The moment was never quite right.  You see, these days, I don’t eat a whole big bunch of meat.  So when I do, it is typically in the form of something colossal.  Like a Filet Mignon.

But back to Labor Day.  Did you know this was strictly an American Holiday?  I don’t understand why, really.  I mean, who could pass up celebrating the most noble act on earth.

Mothers all over the world should be honored for this, I’ll tell you.  Giving birth to a child is no small detail.  That is for sure.  In fact, not a one of us would be here, if it weren’t for the labors of our mothers.   It is quite painful, in fact.  At least that is what I am told.  So… on this day… I want to personally thank all the mothers, near and far, for enduring labor, and giving birth.  Happy Labor Day to you.

(Hold on a second. Mary was just reading over my shoulder, and she contends that today is not a Motherhood Holiday.  I’ll have to Wikipedia this one…. so here’ s a small commercial break while you wait.)

Okay.  I’m back.  Never mind you Mothers.

Happy Work-Your-Butts-Off-Day.

And tomorrow…. Have a hot dog.  Wear white.  Break the rules.  And…. call your Mother if you are lucky enough to have one.  You can make this day anything you want.

Most people have never learned that one of the main aims in life is to enjoy it.
— Samuel Butler

What do we live for, if not to make life less difficult for each other?
— George Eliot

We can’t plan life. All we can do is be available for it.
— Lauryn Hill

Religion and Politics.  They are everywhere.

Why, just today… I worked at the Eatonic Music Festival.  I was volunteering for the Rotary Club, albeit I am not a member of Rotary.  Anyway… some really great bands played throughout the day.  At one point, one of the band’s songs instructed me to Pray for the Fish.  Over and over again, it told me to pray for the fish.

Who am I to argue such an appeal as that?  As such….  It has seemed like the thing to do. And, I’ve been praying for the fish all day.  I’ll let you know if I hear anything… although I am not sure exactly which fish I am praying for.

But back to it.  Seems like everybody these days is talking religion or politics.  Just turn on the TV for 5 minutes.  (And I do.)

Yes, every news cast, talk show, and entertainment program, has something to say about those two topics.  I alway try to make a point NOT to discuss such things here.  It happens now and again.  I know.

Heck, even my story about keeping the ants out of my garden was construed by some has having political undertones.  Apparently, someone else is planning on building a wall somewhere.  This must have been the cause for confusion on the part of some of my readers.

But I try very hard not to talk religion or politics.  Period.

So.  When I mention Pope Francis in my next sentence, I can assure you it has nothing to do with religion.

As most of you know, Europe is now experiencing some difficulties with an insurgence of migrants from non-EU countries.   The conflicts raging in Syria and Afghanistan, and the influence of ISIS in Iraq, appear to be the major drivers of the migration.

Do you know what Pope Frank suggested today?  He thought it would be a good idea for every Catholic Parish in Europe to take in one migrant family.  That is a big bunch of people.

Some people would look at that, and say… “Now THAT is the Christian thing to do.”  And you could say any number of things about this Papal Suggestion… It is an act of…. Kindness. Compassion. Acceptance. And Sheer Brilliance.  Either way, it just seems like a good and loving thing to do. He asked people to help them, to welcome them…..  Not to keep those suffering people from finding refuge, food, protection, shelter.  Not building a wall to keep them out.

So no.  I won’t talk religion of politics tonight. I shall simply relay my observations of the world happenings… which in this case… make me believe in the goodness of humankind.

And of course, I will continue praying for the fish.  Just for the halibut, I guess.

“Anyone who thinks sitting in church can make you a Christian must also think that sitting in a garage can make you a car.”
― Garrison Keillor

If you can’t feed a hundred people, then feed just one.
— Mother Teresa

We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean. But the ocean would be less because of that missing drop.
— Mother Teresa

Was I ever in a hurry this morning.

It felt like one of those days, when I had 93 things of my “TO DO” list, well before 8 a.m.

I started churning at 5:30 on this morning, as with every new born day.  The first priorities are dog-chores and coffee construction.  After the coffee, the rest of it falls in line.

By 7 a.m. I was headed out to the Chickens.  Yes, to clean up chicken poop, and feed those poop-ers more food, in order for them to poop again.  And we go full cycle.  Round and round.

As I bopped out the door, I could tell the sunrise was going to be amazing, again, today.  “I should shoot it,” I thought.  “No time,” I argued back in my head.  “Kronenberger, MAKE time.  Go back in there and get your camera!”…I retorted.  And…. when I call myself Kronenberger in my head… it is serious business.

So. I took off my Chicken Boots, went back in the house, and got my camera.  I bent over to retrieve it from the fireplace hearth in the living room.  When I righted myself, I rammed my skull directly into the underside of the mantle.  I about knocked myself bluto.

“Great.  Stop and shoot the sunrise… and look what you get.  A knot on the back of your head, and a throbbing headache.”

Whhhhaaaaaat is the lesson there?

A couple of hours later, I recounted the story to Mary.  And asked the same question.  Now… What the heck is the lesson THERE?

She said no one was giving me a lesson.  I just needed to be more mindful.

Now what kind of bunk is that?  Of course someone was giving me lesson. There HAD to be something completely profound there….  a great message from the tickity-tockity of the Universe…. … something….

I’m lllliiiiisssssttennnnninnnnggggg……

“Polly. You are a helpless, mindless, klutz.”

And so it goes.

You can never regret anything you do in life. You kind of have to learn the lesson from whatever the experience is and take it with you on your journey forward.
  –Aubrey O’Day

The lesson is that you can still make mistakes and be forgiven.
— Robert Downey, Jr.

When you arise in the morning, think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive – to breathe, to think, to enjoy, to love.
— Marcus Aurelius

You are worth it.

Whatever that “IT” may be.  You are certainly worthy of it.

The thing of it is, you belong here.  You have an undeniable right to be on this big blue ball.  The moment you were born, it was gifted to you.

How about that?

It is really pretty incredible when we think of it.  Yes.  The very instant we came into existence here…. we were given this place, in this time.  Only YOU…. in that specific moment, for all of time.

There is no other individual who was ever given that specific spot in the entire clockworks of the Universe.   You were meant to be in that body, in that place, for all of history.  That moment, and every other moment you experience, are unfolding uniquely.  On time.

That in itself is an extremely powerful certainty.  But as they say, with power comes responsibility.

Here is the thing.  Each one of us were given this bestowal, this endowment, and this responsibility. This place on earth.  Our place in existence.

How?  How then…. are we responsible?

By being good humans.  That’s how.

Since everyone has this same right to be here, we must try to seek acceptance.  Acceptance of diversity.  People have all sorts of different “things” and just because those “things” are not like ours…. it does not make either one of us right or wrong.  Simply different.

People have different bibles, different colors, different languages, customs, beliefs, preferences, and different ways of eating Won Ton Soup.

We need to understand this, to thrive in the complexities of the world we live in today.

On the other hand, we humans were given another great gift.  Choice.  Yes, each one of us has the power to chose… in any given situation… in any given moment.  Pretty amazing thing too, I might add.

But therein, you have the power to chose.  You don’t have to accept other’s differences.  If you believe your right to be here is greater than someone else’s right…. it is your choice to think that way.  You can fight them…. tooth and nail… because their rights are lesser than yours.

Yes.  Two incredible gifts.  Our given place in time, in all the history, in all of the universe.  And, our power to chose.

How will you chose?  How will I?  And how… on earth… will we?

“It’s enough for me to be sure that you and I exist at this moment.”
― Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“I am the sum total of everything that went before me, of all I have been seen done, of everything done-to-me. I am everyone everything whose being-in-the-world affected was affected by mine. I am anything that happens after I’m gone which would not have happened if I had not come.”
― Salman Rushdie, Midnight’s Children