Ever wish for the power to see into the future? Ever long for the ability to know ahead of time if the path you’ve set out on will take you where you really want to go?
Friday, March 17, 2023
"Looking for Answers"
Thursday, March 16, 2023
“The Road NOT Taken”
Road NOT taken! |
Last weekend we did a
quick turn-around trip to our cabin in Leakey, Texas. Because of transportation
problems over the last few years, we’ve neglected both the cabin’s exterior and
the massive cedar take-over of the acreage. Now that we have our Bronco Sport,
heading down the rough road isn’t a problem. David’s selected areas on the
property to create trails through the cedars; with going up the hill behind the
cabin taking priority as the top of it is our only section where we get
cellphone reception.
The porch, which we built more than thirty years ago, attaches to the metal building and sprung a leak during our long absence. Last November, we noted the water damage, and David decided to bring some GREAT STUFF up on the next visit to seal the leak. In January, he sprayed both from the roof line above and within the porch below. This time, it was obvious that everything dried out. Now we have to figure out how to fix the damage, an extra problem since it’s only the two of us. We brainstormed on ways to remove the rotten parts, reinforce the zone with new wood, and also treat the remainder of the porch’s wood to preserve it. I’ll spend time researching the exterior paints with waterproofing before the next visit. The cabin’s exterior wood needs both repairs and paint. We’ll toil at these tasks for the remainder of this year.
We’re never ones to
shy away from hard work, but since my both of my knees have had slight
injuries, I’m extra cautious when we’re at the cabin now since another twisted
knee is a major setback I don’t want to deal with. For safety purposes, I wear
ankle high, steel toed hiking boots instead of the tennis shoes I’ve worn for
years. If I step down the ramp, my heavy
boots adorn my feet. I crawl at a careful pace going up the back hill. I test
the inclines of slopes before heading back down. That means a zigzag path with
David nearby to offer a hand of assistance.
On Sunday, we started
down one of the dry creek beds. It’s one of my favorite treks. With extreme vigilance,
I picked my way along the rocks and gravel. David, eyes forward and moving at
his normal pace, left me in the dust! About ten feet in, I called out, “I think
this is too difficult for me right now. I’m going back to the road!” Frankly, I
didn’t know whether I felt defeated or victorious. One the one hand, I didn’t venture
down a road I’ve taken many, many times with ease. Although my knees felt fine,
I didn’t want to risk re-injury. The younger, less arthritic Liz wouldn’t have
turned back. Even a couple of years ago, I would’ve pushed myself a little harder.
The practical, new Liz listened to my body’s whispered, “Maybe not . . .” and
heeded the warning. NOT taking the rocky road is a huge victory for my more alert
self.
I suspect my new mantle
of prudence will wrap me in security from now on when working at the cabin. I
see myself climbing up and down a ladder with paintbrush in hand, and
eventually knowing my footing’s sure enough to trek both dry creek beds. It
will be done with a slow and steady pace, though.
Actual road I walked! |
Copyright 2023 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman
Wednesday, March 15, 2023
"Funhouse Mirrors"
David Chapman-aritst |
"The Censor"
David Chapman-artist |
You're Not the Boss of Me"
David Chapman-artist |
"On the Outside"
"Insight"
Tuesday, March 14, 2023
"Strings Attached"
"A Family's Spin"
"You're Not What I Want"
You strut into my life, mirrors for your eyes.
You're not what I want, so I'm stepping away.
You're not what I want, so I'm leaving you today.
You expect to hold the world’s blind devotion.
"Poison"
"Dysfunctional Family"
Monday, March 13, 2023
"Verbena"
A lone seed
surrounded by stones. With stubborn strength and survival’s goal, this isolated
weed flowers on the side of the road. A single splash of purple and green stands
against white and cream rocks. Boldly sprouting while separated from other
blossoms.
A few steps down the
road, a pair commutes under a cedar tree. Resilient among the rocks, their simple
blooms draws attention. Up along the dry creek bed, rests a cluster of verdant
emerald with pinker tones flowers within last winter’s grasses.
Copyright 2023 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman