When people ask what I am up to, at age 75 there isn’t much to tell. However, my life still teems with fascinating things which require not much more than keeping one's eyes and ears open. Wherever I go, there is something new to discover, to think about, lessons still to be learned,
It's a simple pleasure to watch kids pile on and off the school bus, see what they wear these days, their interactions… or lack of them. These are elementary school kids, not yet consumed by the flat little electronic boxes their older sibs hold. I fret about the older ones and how they seem so obsessed by whatever is inside those boxes.
|
|
|
|
Kitchen Table Kibitzing is a community series for those who wish to share part of the evening around a virtual kitchen table with kossacks who are caring and supportive of one another. So bring your stories, jokes, photos, funny pics, music, and interesting videos, as well as links—including quotations—to diaries, news stories, and books that you think this community would appreciate. Readers may notice that most who post diaries and comments in this series already know one another to some degree, but newcomers should not feel excluded. We welcome guests at our kitchen table, and hope to make some new friends as well.
|
|
I used to smile at the idea of the old lady with the cats she kept for companionship and chit chat. Now, I think that if there is no one else to share observations with, why not? In my case, it’s a small dog and besides. it turns out that I prefer the company of Kobi to many (if not most) people.
He and I walk every day, weather permitting. Even in the dead of winter, if you’re crazy enough, you’ll find us up at the bike path. A ten minute drive from home, it’s a three mile round-trip of rolling pavement that never fails to provide an escape from the mundane irks of day to day life.
Hard to stay stuck when surrounded by mountain views on almost three sides of you and woods on the rest. Pretty darn life-giving —spiritual even— in the sense that it takes you out of yourself, reminds you that there is definitely something bigger than whatever you think you know.
So, Kobi and I walk those three miles and have great experiences, which might not impress anyone but us. Besides the mountains, which change color constantly —wait another month when the leaves on the trees start to turn— there are all the shades of green. And textures! All sorts of wildflowers and plants! And a few critters! And birds!
But it's the humans we meet that proffer the most. Like me, some are walking with their dogs. Some are riding bikes, jogging, or hiking with friends. Kobi and I smile at everyone (well, he wags his tail) and most of the time people smile back. When there are other dogs, they usually do that doggy dance and “chat” a bit with Kobi-- not many unsocial pups around. Every so often we encounter folks (usually with a dog that isn't friendly) who simply refuse to make eye contact, but that's rare… probably "Flatlanders" (out-of-Staters).
Take this guy we kept passing for weeks heading in the opposite direction early last summer. A middle aged, gray haired, neat-as-a-pin type, he would barely look up beyond a brief nod and a grunted “good day” as he passed... until one morning just as we're approaching one another and from about ten feet away, he burst forth,“ I just saw a DEER! It was standing there in the woods… just beyond the bridge! It was looking at me!”
The man was radiating! His joy was palpable. I almost told him he had been blessed, but no need. He knew it… even if he didn’t know he knew.
From then on, when we’d pass, he’d smile and say “Hello” or “Good Morning.” But it gets better…
Kobi and I had had an unpleasant encounter with a couple and their teeny little dog. I always pull Kobi in on his leash when we meet strangers, but “Wee One” was clearly signaling with her wagging tail and ears forward that she’d like to say Hi, so I let up on the leash and Kobi bounded forward to chat.
Snatching “Wee One” up into her arms, Mommy Dearest yelled at me to retract that leash — “Don’t you know how to control your dog?”
A bit shaken, I apologized and, relieved to see our gray haired gentleman coming 'round the bend, told him what had just happened.
“Oh,” he said warmly, “I saw them... had to be Flatlanders!”