When THey Were Young

Grand-babies.

It goes too fast!!!!!

I've been going through old pictures and showing the grand-kiddos while they are visiting me.

I miss their little chubby baby-ness!!!

Goio loved to ride in Gma Lubeck's walker!!

Uh oh.  Caught in the act!

First face to face meeting with Goio and Pen!

Ohmygosh.  Isn't she beautiful?  Just like a 

classic painting!!!

Little blondie Dooda!!

So adorable!!!

I came across this poem the other day and thought I'd share.

A very talented teenager wrote this!

When I Was Young

                                    By fignewton527, West Chester, PA

Image Credit: Steve S., Marblehead, MA

The author's comments:

 I'm not sure why I wrote this. I was just remembering being a small child and how beautiful and grand I thought the world was. I'm not much older... but I feel like I've aged a lifetime. Obviously, I do not (nor have I ever) have a wife or job. So some of this poem is non fiction. But for the most part... it's true. 

(teenage poet)

When I was young I would run out to the woods.

Excitedly tripping over my feet as I ran.

Over cracking soil and jutting roots

Too tall trees for a child.

They looked like giants from down here. 

Way down on the ground in my own Earth.

Not much else mattered to me while I would run.

I’d look up and see the yellow specs of light peaking from behind leaves.

Squinting, I’d smile and realize I was home. 

I’d sit down by the secret swing I found one day while exploring. 

I’d fling myself onto it like it was my old friend.

“Blast off!” I’d cry as a kicked higher and higher off the ground.

The birds were singing and the air was swirling around me.

I could smell the Oaks and the decomposing dirt.

The musty smell of morning air.

The colors of the flowers unfold in a blanket below me.

I’d laugh and sing and soar though the air.

Hours and hours I would sit on that swing.

Until I heard the cry of my mother calling me home.

I quickly jumped off my old friend the swing; feeling like an Olympic athlete as I landed the jump.

Again I ran... over the cracked soil and jutting roots.

I arrived home; back in reality.

As I grew, I forgot about my swing.

My faithful friend tucked away in the wood.

I aged and aged. 

Grew older and moved away. 

Moved far away from home.

I began to feel lost. 

I quit my job.

I lost my wife.

I visited home.

“Mother, what do I do?”

“Relax, my child, let loose.”

“How could I possibly relax in times like these?”

I bowed my head and began to sob.

My mother walked out of the room and back in again.

She dropped something on the table.

A pair of old, muddy boots.

“Explore.”

At once I was lifted. 

The cogs in my head began to spin again ad I strapped on the boots.

I felt the familiar rush as I ran out the door.

I was headed to the woods.

I reached the edge of the wood and inhaled.

The familiar scent greeted me.

I tripped over my feet again as I ran.

Over cracked soil and jutting roots.

The trees a lot smaller than I could remember.

But still magnificent.

Not much else mattered at this moment, while I ran.

I looked up and saw the yellow specs of sunlight again.

And there it was,

My swing.

My old friend.

I sat down… and remembered.

When I was a child. 

I kicked off.

“Blast off.” I said

I realized I was home.

-So this is kind of a schmultzy song, but this french guy wrote it and performed it and it is the best version of it,

and I kind of like it now I am older.

What do you think?

I think I am getting old.  

                   

                 ; )

In a good way.....

           Grandma's Story by Judith Mehr

Pyrex bowl alert!!!!.  Crazy Daisy in Gold!!!

See it?

Well here's to a wonderful week for ya'll,

my little punkin's.

May you all have lots of joy

and goodness in the days

to come!

Love to you all!

xoxo

~d