So I am writing this to fake myself into thinking that I am not just procrastinating on my homework. I am still typing; I must be busy right?
So the paper that I am avoiding writing is on the history of books and I got to thinking what a huge quality difference there was between the hand made books of the dark ages and the machine stamped books that followed them. I bet there were all kinds of uproar about how it was ruining the language and kids these days etc. People saying that the world was going to shit because books weren't jewel encrusted and filigried with gold anymore. People gasping at the idea of the unwashed masses having easy and affordable access to books.
Probably really similar arguments to the ones we listen to about how email has ruined writing and kids these days. People gasping about how books aren't leather bound anymore. How you can't hold a PDF in your hands and how a webpage doesn't have that dusty library smell. OMG don't even get them started on how evil text messaging is and how it poisons kids these days. Did you know that Abraham Lincoln is credited with inventing the emoticon (sideways smiley face). ;) I know you don't believe that one bit but its true.
The cultures were moving from an old and established method with decades or centuries of refinement to a brand new way of doing things. Of course there are going to be some rough edges, electronic writing is in its infancy. We don't have decades of experience blogging. Each paradigm improves not on the decadence of the caligraphy but the accessability of content. I applaud this whole heartedly. Humanity has, step by step, taken the written word away from the powerful and given it to each other. We have given ourselves the power to share our ideas.
Didyouknowthatthegreeksdidn'tusespacesintheirwritingsoeverything
wasjustonelongwordwithnobreaksatall? How difficult would that be to read? People complain about poor penmanship, spelling or grammar and don't get me wrong, I think we should practice those things as they are important for clarity. But, that isn't what writing is about.
The elements of writing that don't have much emphasis to improve are the most important. I never heard an English teacher tell me that I need to spend time developing great ideas to write or instruct me on how to hone my skills of creative thought. I did see a lot of red marks on my papers where I used "incorrect" capitolization. How can it be incorrect if its how I intended? Yeah, its not how you write, or how they write, most importantly its also not what they'd write but its how I put it down. That is like telling a painter his brush strokes are incorrect.
Lets teach the next generation how to write things that matter.
63 Years of Memories....
63 Years of Memories....
that's what I have now. The photo below shows the chair on the point which for so many years was my father's favorite after-supper place to contemplate and cast for walleye. As much as I feel guilty about what's happened, I know he would understand and even say there's nothing to forgive. He lived life fully and moved on many times. I'm the one with the unique experience of being attached to a beautiful place for my whole life. And despite all my best efforts, yesterday the 'cabin' was sold. I signed the papers and, truth be told, a weight was lifted. A new life lies ahead without the obligations, but with all of the wonderful memories. My unrelentingly positive attitude says this is truly how it is, but my heart is still sad.
There are some things in life for which the balance between the obligation and the joy of ownership often cannot be sustained forever. It became clear that I was no longer up to the task of taking care of the place quite a while back. However, knowing what needs to be done and doing it are often far apart. Finally, no choice was left. It had to be sold.
Now it's gone. No more worrying about how long the grass or how deep the snow is up there. No more sublimely pleasurable early morning cups of coffee sitting on the dock when the color of the lake is like pale blue glass and the air is completely still. No more endless repairs, high taxes, and utility bills. No more late nights around the fire pit with friends and family - warm from both fire and friendship. No more frozen pipes or emergency calls to the furnace guys. No more saunas and midnight skinny dipping that make you feel like you'll live forever while your connection with nature is confirmed by the gazillion stars of the milky way and the loons calling out in the dark. No more concerns with low well water levels or water so hard and full of iron the clothes turn yellow and your newly washed hair feels like brillo. No more finding the way home by boat in the dark after a long day on the lake feeling like this is the only place you really, really belong. No more praying that the boathouse will make it another year without collapsing. And ultimately, no more making new memories with friends, family and loved ones. No new memories, that is, at Half Bay, Lake Vermilion, Tower, MN. New life... here we come!
How do you thank a place for memories?
No comments:
Post a Comment