Monday Morning Musings

Good Monday morning. I trust everyone had a great weekend and are energized for the work week ahead.

What I'm Reading: Her Sister by Karen Rose Smith. This is book seven of her Search For Love series, but the first one I have tried. It is a romance with some mystery and suspense, and so far it is a good read.

What I'm Dismayed About: I read an article in The Dallas Morning News yesterday written by a woman who had a harrowing experience with Child Protective Services. Kari Anne Roy, an Austin writer who writes children's books as KA Holt, had just returned from vacation and was inside her house sorting through mail when a neighbor knocked on her door. When Kari opened the door, she saw that the neighbor had Kari's six-year-old son in hand. The neighbor was overly concerned about the boy being alone in the neighborhood park, which was in full view of Kari's house and only 150 yards away.

The neighbor was convinced that this was a case of child neglect, so she called the police. What the neighbor didn't know, and didn't want to hear from Kari, is that the boy had been supervised by an older sister, who had just run home for a minute and that Kari's children often played outside at the park without an adult on hand.

Courtesy of Galleryhip.com

While relating the sequence of events that led to the visit by Child Protective Services and the humiliating interviews she and her children were subjected to, Kari kept repeating "They (the kids) were just playing outside." She was dismayed that children can't "just play outside" like many of us did as kids, and I share that dismay. Her kids are now afraid to play outside. Not just because of stranger-danger, but for fear that the police will be called again.

You can read more about the impact this has had on the family on Kari's blog, Haiku of the Day. The post was originally made on September 9th, and the comments opened an interesting discussion of child safety. Well worth a read.

What I'm Happy About: That I could feel fall in the air when I took my walk this morning. There is a certain crispness that heralds the coming of the colors on the trees, and I especially love this time of the year. That's one reason that I loved Slim Randles post here last week, An Ode to Autumn.

Now For Some Fun: My sister sent me these jokes, and the second one made me laugh out loud.

I was with my wife at her high school reunion, and she kept staring at a drunk swigging his drink as he sat alone at a nearby table.

I asked her, "Do you know him?"

"Yes." She sighed. "He's my old boyfriend.  He began drinking right after we split up years ago, and hasn't been sober since."

"My God!"  I said, "Who would think a person could go on celebrating that long?"

And then the fight started...
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When our lawn mower broke my wife kept nagging me to get it fixed.  But, I always had something else to take care of. Finally she thought of a clever way to make her point.

I found her seated in the tall grass, busily snipping away with a tiny pair of scissors. I watched silently for a short time and then went into the house. I was gone only a minute, and when I came out again, I handed her a toothbrush and said, "When you finish cutting the grass, you might as well sweep the driveway."

The doctors say I will walk again, but I will always have a limp.

Be honest, you laughed at that last joke, right? 

Autumn is Welcomed

I'm so pleased to have Slim Randles as my Wednesday's Guest this week. Instead of his usual humorous offering, he has a rather poetic piece about autumn. I guess since there is cowboy poetry, Slim won't be offended by me referring to this as poetic. Since he is helping us welcome in Autumn, I thought a typical fall drink of apple cider would be in order. Please do join me in welcoming Slim. Enjoy...

Courtesy of Love Your Reflection Blog with a recipe for hot apple cider.

It comes to us slowly and delicately, as all beautiful things should. It’s usually in the early morning. We can smell it. We can feel it. That little nip that teases us … autumn. Almost autumn.

Summer is heat and work and sweat and cold drinks of water and swimming and barbecues. But autumn is Fall … the pinnacle. This is when people have the county and state fairs, because the vegetables and animals are at their peak and ready to show. The heat drove some of us into the house this stifling summer and led us to make quilts, make furniture, can fruit. And now, if they’re good enough (and we know, if no one else does) they can go to the fair, too.

In the mountains, the deer and elk are at their finest, with antlers dark brown with the patina of age and wisdom and those tips white as ivory. Polished. This is the polished time.

We are all at some kind of pinnacle in autumn. We have worked through the heat and now we can plan to ratchet it back a bit. We can take our skills to the mountains for hunting and fishing, or just discover a new hobby there at the house that will keep hands and mind busy during the cold to come.

The children are off to school, preparing themselves so someday their autumns will be like this, sweet with fulfillment, honed to a point, seeping with satisfaction the way ours are.

Autumn … come and whisper to us in the morning. I’m almost here. Almost here. Almost here.
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Slim writes the popular Home Country columns, which are syndicated in hundreds of newspapers. Some of those columns have been collected and published in his book, Home Country, and now you can listen to the “Home Country Hour” podcast on your computer or other electronic marvels, at www.slimrandles.com

An Ode to Autumn

My Wednesday Guest is Slim Randles. This time he is here with something more thoughtful than humorous, but, as always, a good read. I really like this piece as this is the way I feel about Autumn. It is my favorite time of year as it seems to beg for contemplation.

Here in East Texas we do have pretty fall colors.

 This is the polished time, the pinnacle of life. This is fall, when everything puts on its best for the world to see, and that makes it special.

The sultry heat of summer has passed, and in its place we have cool mornings when the tiny snap of winter's promise briefly touches our skin. There is a magic quality of light and feel in the air, and those of us who enjoy the outdoors know it's time to go to camp. In our genes, we know it's time to go to camp. It's time to be in the woods with rod and bow and gun and rediscover ourselves.

In town, it's time for the kids to be back in school, giving their mothers time to think about themselves for a while.  The antlers of the deer have now been polished to a bone white at the tips and a rugged brown elsewhere. They are prime, as is their owner. It is fall. It is the polished time. The trees, as the sap shuts down in the leaves, share their gold and reds with us and make commonplace scenes only a few weeks ago into magical tapestries of nature.

It is the time of finding a mate, of fighting for territory, of defining our lives. It is fall. And we know we must polish ourselves a little bit right now in order to fit in. We have to assess ourselves and ask what we can do to make our lives a little shinier, our hopes a little stronger, our promises to others more defined, more definite.

It is the time to let the fresh cool air fill our lungs and let us remember other falls, other campfires, other friends. Younger friends, as we were younger. And as the golden leaves fall in the late autumn breezes, it will be time once again to cherish our mates and seek refuge from the winter wind.

Brought to you by Slim’s outdoors memoirs, Sweetgrass Mornings. Read a free sample at www.slimrandles.com.