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Before the snow flies ... moving with the season

Before the snow flies, there is work to be done.

Al and I began the process again ,which happens every year. Outdoor furniture moved under cover, outside hoses rolled up, wood stacked, guest artist’s cabins weatherized, and the list goes on. It is all part of moving with the season. It’s all protecting what we have and what we have already established in season’s past.

Al asked, “While the weather is beautiful would you help me organize my garages?” Talk about music to my ears. Al doesn’t ask for much and I knew he needed help. He was overwhelmed with too much stuff. So I agreed, of course with the hidden agenda of throwing away a bunch of junk.

How do you organize a packrat? It was going to take some brutal action and a master plan. I had to be careful though because Al likes his stuff and is attached. But Al was ready to move into another season of life and now was my chance.

I knew I wouldn’t have any problem throwing away his junk! My junk is another story. Every artist knows that ideas take up space. So we all have our junk, but it is a different kind of junk. My junk is going to turn into something beautiful one day.

After all these years Al and I have been moving in and out of one season after another. You would think we would look at things the same way. Not at all! He hangs on to things, I throw away; he chinks, I give it a place; he moves slow, I want to get the job done; he wants to sell it in a garage sale for ten cents, I want to burn it. He wants to reminisce, I want to move on; I put it in the trash, he takes it out, and the saga goes on.

So we began the process of eliminating and working together. There were a few close calls. After a piece of wood flew by my head from inside the garage, I had to speak to Al in his currency. “Al, if I get hurt, you lose free help.” That seemed to temper Al’s throwing arm. Free help is a premium around here.

After two long days, loading the trash trailer to the top, burning everything I could get my hands on, Al and I succeeded. Al is organized; everything has its place; like-things are grouped together, such as jumper cables, battery chargers and batteries; air hoses and hoses of every kind, bicycle pump, tire patch and inner tubes.

As Al began stacking the shelves again, I reminded him, if you want to stay organized, these are the rules. Nothing goes in front of something else and after you use it, it goes back to its designated spot. So we have managed to get through another season but what have we learned?

Henry Thoreau, writer and poet expresses it best. “I have learned this at least by my experience: that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life he has imagined, he will meet with success unexpected in common hours.”

 As different as my sweet Al and I are, we are advancing into seasons which we are not sure of. Growing older takes on new dreams and fewer expectations. We have walked together with a gimp leg for many years, but always following our dreams and endeavoring to live life as we have imagined. We have unexpectedly met in common hours. This time was no exception.

For Al and me, as we change seasons once again, we are learning how to move into that next place. Not only nature changes but we are changing too. And somehow we always find each other in those common hours. We are so blessed.

Final brushstroke: Common hours! What are they? I believe they are when we reach that place where we line up with each other in that moment, and we fit together. It is where our goals and who we are and where we are, meet in satisfaction.

Comments from readers

Hi, Betty:

While we were on the train to Silverton, a young mother was texting or reading or conducting business or who knows what and her children were asking questions and trying to involve her in a conversation. She became quite angry with them. I guess I don’t understand why a mother would do that when it is obvious everyone on the train is there for the ride; or are they? The mother evidently was there for another purpose, which was vastly more interesting or important than her daughters’ needs. Sorry, I wouldn’t want to be in her world, but wouldn’t have minded answering the girls’ questions. The father stepped in and took over the conversation; at least one parent was involved.

Of course I understand the corollary is when one is doing something very important, children will always interrupt. This mother appeared to have no understanding of your artist’s quote; she did not receive the opportunity to bless or to be blessed by a teachable moment.

Talk to the pocket... I love this!

Sorry we missed you while we were in Durango.

Kathy, Michigan

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Artist’s quote

“When you maximize your talents, you’re on path, on purpose, on target. When you don’t you’re off path, off purpose, off target.” Kevin Hall, author.