We were away for a few days. Three, arriving home late on that final day. It would have been earlier but it was Friday and it was rush hour and the first weekend of summer. Everybody was on the road and it was a slow road home.
But for all that, it was good getting home. It was good because all the flowers were blooming like crazy and, this morning, my fourth orchid opened up.
This was the last bud, so I assume this will be the final flower of this set. I’m sure no one is surprised I took a lot of pictures. All of these are macros.
Will these rejuvenate again next spring? I hope so. I was just delighted that they bloomed. After the long, hard winter, this was such a wonderful surprise!
Obviously, the pledge of allegiance springs instantly to mind. As it should.
“I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America. And to the Republic, for which is stands. One nation, indivisible. With liberty and justice for all.”
We all had to stand up and say it every morning.
Do our representative pledge allegiance? Do they promise liberty and justice for all? Do they laugh as they say it? Because somehow, this very fundamental pledge which all American kids said apparently no longer holds any meaning for what we humorously call “our leaders.”
You wouldn’t think a marina would be much of a place to walk, but you’d be wrong. There are dozens of piers and decks and companionways everywhere you look.
Even if you never leave the marina, there are a lot of ways to go! We had a perfect summer’s day — which was, coincidentally, the first day of summer … and a stunning sunset that literally wrapped around the entire sky, gold in the east and pink-purple in the west.
It’s hard to grow up with the perception that you are different from everyone else, even if it is not really so. When you do not know much about the outside world, the world inside you can make you sad. “Why am I not like everyone else?” you may wonder.
“Why am I so different?” Thoughts like this can lead to sadness. Even though you try to act happy on the outside, your eyes might give you away.
“You with the sad eyes
Don’t be discouraged
Oh I realizeIt’s hard to take courage…”
There is no way to know that being different is not necessarily wrong when your emotions are telling you otherwise. Worse yet, other people are telling you that different is wrong, even if only in an indirect way.
“Cut it out.”
“Be a man.”
“Why can’t you be more like your brother, cousin, sister, uncle, ____(fill in the blank.)”
“Don’t you like sports?”
“Don’t be a sissy.”
“Only a queer would wear that shirt, pants, shoes, ____(fill in the blank).”
Some seem hard-wired to accept the criticism as they grow up. They look like everything just rolls right off of them. They smile while they hurt. You may think, “Every kid is teased as he grows up. It’s just part of life.” Yes, we all get teased, but some of us are different from the majority … and can’t cope with the teasing.
“In a world full of people
You can lose sight of it all
And the darkness inside you
Can make you feel so small…”
With a limited view of the world, and lack of experience dealing with the emotions tossed your way, you can feel small, insignificant, different. And different seems bad when you are trying to find your way. What is inside you has dark colors and no glow.
“Dear god,” you may silently cry in the loneliness of a dark room just down the hall from the so-called regular people, “please make me like everyone else.” The prayer might be repeated until you are empty of tears, and they no longer wash down your face.
“But I see your true colors shining through
I see your true colors and that’s why I love you…”
If you are different, but not in a bad or destructive way, you may need someone to reach out and tell you it’s all right. Someone, anyone, needs to explain that different can be okay. You don’t have to be like the majority. Each can possess unique characteristics that make them special, important, creative, fun. And everyone is worthy of love.
“So don’t be afraid to let them show: your true colors…”
Encouragement is needed to let friends, neighbors, and especially young ones know that each has his own gift. We can’t all be the same. We can’t all do the same things. There is nothing wrong with singing a different tune, being a different kind of person. Diversity can be strength. All the pieces can come together to form a perfect picture. When all the colors are put alongside each other, they can bring everyone joy.
“True colors are beautiful like a rainbow.”
If all this seems a bit cryptic, then let’s just say it is tough to grow up different and hiding who you are. The song “True Colors” has taken on a rather symbolic meaning in some circles since it was first recorded by Cyndi Lauper. Contrary to what some belief, it was not written by Lauper and was in fact the only song on her True Colors album she did not have a hand in writing. Nevertheless, it resonated with her and years later she co-founded the True Colors Fund to wipe out LGBT youth homelessness.
John Legend sings this for kids and teachers. You can find a Cyndi Lauper version here.
Younger people — even people just a little bit younger, like maybe 10 years — do not understand the whole “forgetting” issue. They think memory is linked to dementia, but that’s not the same as the standard “everything vanishes in 15 seconds” kind of forgetting that overtakes us as we pass into our 70s.
I don’t forget anything forever. I don’t forget everything ever. I forget bits and pieces of things. Dates. Titles. Phone numbers. If it’s really important, I will remember it — or at least remember to look at the calendar where I no doubt wrote it down.
I forget words, then remember them a few minutes later. I forget television shows and who starred in them. I forget the author of the books I read when I was younger. I have forgotten a lot of things that happened when I was younger, probably because none of them were all that important. Turns out, 60 years later, a lot of what seemed terribly significant wasn’t.
Bits of information that once would have found a nesting place in my brain, disappear. My theory is that if it was that important, I would have written it down. Like on my Google calendar or the whiteboard on the refrigerator. When I was working, I had a head full of information. I remembered it. Accurately, too.
I can’t imagine how I remembered so many things. I couldn’t do it now. More to the point, I wouldn’t want to do it now.
Garry is older than me, so we forget stuff together.
Tonight was a good one. I turned on the oven, but I never heard the beep that tells me it reached temperature. I used to easily hear the beep. Now, I can only hear it if there’s no other noise.
There’s always noise, at least a bit. An audiobook, the television, or a computer. Dogs. Telephones. Air conditioners. Fans. Or the slight roar of the microwave.
Today, I was sure I had put that meatloaf in the oven. I figured it was probably done so I should go cook the potatoes.
Except for the oven, which was warm, it was empty. I was positive I’d put the meatloaf in there. Positive. Well, maybe not so positive because I couldn’t remember the oven beeping. If I never heard the oven, then why — when? — would I have put the meatloaf in to cook? Oops.
Our oven, after I failed to show up to tell it to really cook, eventually turned itself off. I love timers. I don’t know how I’d survive without timers. I think I used to burn a lot of meals.
Why do we forget?
First, I think we don’t need to remember the way we did when we were working. Second, we don’t really care as much about keeping everything on schedule. If we don’t go shopping when we planned on Tuesday, we’ll go on Wednesday. Or Thursday. Or when we finally run out of something we absolutely need. If it isn’t a doctor we need to see or a date to meet friends for lunch, it’s not all that important. Most of my bills are paid automatically and the ones that need monthly updating show up in an email to remind me.
Most of life is on automatic or semi-automatic and that is fine. I’m delighted I don’t have the stress of constant things to do and schedules to meet.
Right now, there are indeed a lot of things to do. I’m trying to gear up what’s left of my memory to do what needs doing. It’s only for a few months. After that, I’m going to forget everything.
Life is easier that way.
One of my favorite lines is “I’ll remember it in the morning.”
But I won’t remember it in the morning. I might not remember it in 15 minutes. Or five. It’s possible I’ve already forgotten it.
Back from Connecticut, I have the roof over the roof with all kinds of roofs all around! The boat is seriously roofed!
Well, the theme is ROOFS (or rooves if you prefer). Your roof can be;
A – Any type, any condition, any size, and in any location. B – It could be a shot across rooftops, of one roof like today or even a macro C – You might prefer to spend some time under the eaves and in the attic, or enjoy the view from above as Brian has already done today.
Making My Home A Haven is important to me. Sharing homemaking skills. Recipes and food. Bible Studies. This is a treasure chest of goodies. So take a seat. Have a glass of tea and enjoy. You will learn all about who I am.