What YOU lookin’ at anyway?

Well today I had a little flashback as I was doing my morning face routine in the mirror.

Do you happen to recall your very least favorite song when you were a teenager? The mirror reminded me today. “At Seventeen”. Are you familiar with the song?

I learned the truth at seventeen that love was made for beauty queens…..

And it goes on to further describe me as a teenager, what with “those of us with ravaged faces, lacking in the social graces…..” on and on and on. I don’t think I ever finished listening to this song because midway through I’d turn the volume down and slip into a state of pretty deep blues. I don’t know, maybe it had a happy ending??

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Hills, caterpillar, and unexpected nostalgia.

In the “sense of adventure” spirit that my husband is so enamored with (and so am I), we decided to take a scenic drive on our way to Topeka yesterday afternoon. A map of gravel road utility type vehicle trails in the Flint Hills has been hanging on our fridge for months. I printed it from a VisitEmporia.com website in hopes that one day we could explore the beautiful area that is so visible from I-35 turnpike through the Flint Hills. So yesterday, at the last minute before leaving the kitchen, the hubby pulled that map off the fridge and said “let’s do this!!”.

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Comfort and Joy

Just a little preface to this post. You’re not going to find anything that even vaguely resembles what you might read in the headlines or hear on the news these days. My motive is simple stories and encouraging words. No politics, no controversy, no mean stuff. This is Simply B keeping it light and simple. Finding the good. It’s there to be found.

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Old roads

This past May took us on a journey with my sister and hubby to meet up with their son and wife on the Nebraska/South Dakota border. Near Yankton, SD, in a COE campground on the Missouri River. The Nebraska side.

We traveled over Memorial Day weekend, and the first leg of our journey took us north on Old 81 where we drove right by the old hometown of Minneapolis (KANSAS, of course). Once we were north of Minneapolis the nostalgia started. DeWayne and I could not remember the last time we’d driven on Old 81 north of the hometown. But at one time it was a familiar drive, as my sister and hubby lived in the Omaha area for several years.

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Wintering Elsewhere

If you’ve experienced winter in the Midwest, you fully understand the appeal of going South during the cold months. We decided a few months ago to make late January and all of February our month to head for the warmth of Texas.

Why Texas? Well, that’s a good question. Our first winter trip to Texas was the Cotton Bowl, New Year’s Eve back in 2000 or so. Dallas was a sheet of ice. The game was frigid and miserable, though our team, KSU, won the game. Several years later KSU played in the Alamo Bowl in San Antonio. So, you know, that’s further south than Dallas. It’ll be warm and sublime. Nope. Temps in the low 50’s and cold rain the entire time. Even on our side trip to Port Aransas on the Gulf.

But January/February should be much better. Right? Much better than Kansas. Right?

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Need to Know Basis

The new year, 2022, came right on in the door and sat down. Looking suspiciously similar to the past two years. I feel certain that I’m not the only person on the planet who is done with the pandemic. Every news clip on COVID, vaccines, deaths, hospitalizations? I just can’t anymore. Not that I don’t care. That’s not it at all. I do care. The numbers, the news, the pictures, the personal stories really break my heart.

This morning when I woke up my mind was filled with an intensely awful memory from when I was around 5 years old. Involving a life altering event to my parents and sisters and myself. You won’t get details, but the effects of that event were permanent and sad. Anyway, as this flash of memory hit my brain waves I sensed God asking me “Can you be thankful even though….?” What a difficult thing to ponder. Especially at 5 in the morning. I couldn’t answer right away.

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Simple, Sweetie.

Gravity. Not my friend.

Aging has been working overtime on me, it seems. Good grief. Sagging parts. Wrinkles in the most unusual places. More chins than anyone would ever possibly need. Curious bumps and spots on my skin, some that can be frozen off by the derm doctor. Of course they find their way back to new locations, and bring their friends with them. Oh, but they are “harmless”. Except for the bruises to my psyche.

And then there’s the occasional unexpected meet-up with the ground, courtesy of gravity. Trips, but not the kind of trips I like to take. And not so very harmless. I’d show you the most recent scar, but it’s happily buried under the hair in my left eyebrow.

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While they’re here

It’s February. Valentine’s Day happens this month every year. Every year romantic couples celebrate each other with tokens of love. Such a sweet thing, but seriously it’s over-sold in my opinion. Money Making Marketing ploy. And so many folks left out because they have no romantic person in their life. Okay, mini-rant over, let’s move on…

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Gifts and Givers

In your own experience, who has historically been the parent most likely to shop for and/or create all the gifts given in your family? For me it was my mother. As a result, I really don’t remember many details about the gifts she gave me. Except that she generously gave to her children. So many gifts over the years. And so much of herself.

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Fog

Of all the road hazards one can experience, fog causes me the most fear.

Growing up, my parents didn’t really give me any “rules” to follow. Never told me what time to be home or where not to go/what not to do. !! Did they just trust me that much? I don’t know. When I think about their life with the challenges of my oldest handicapped sister, and my dad’s terminal illness, it seems likely that they were just overwhelmed and exhausted. In return, I saw their struggles and honestly did not want to do anything that would add to their stress. I was chronologically “young”, but I was “old” experientially. I don’t really think I was a challenging teenager.

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Walls, foundations and bucket lists

We like to travel. Actually, we love to travel. I was born with the “let’s go” gene. And I believe the hubby was, too. So, we have done a lot of traveling when possible. Life has put a bit of a cramp in that plan, but still, we travel.

Recently as we were walking on one of our favorite trails at the lake where we’re camped, I said, “You’re 68. I’m 67. We need to determine the things we want to do, places we want to see while we still are able to do such.” He replied, “We still have thirty years of living for all that”. And he’s the math whiz??

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You’re wrong

If I’ve heard it once, I’ve heard it a million times. Words like “mind-numbing terrain”. “It’s so boring”. “There’s nothing to see”. “Longest drive ever”. Any guesses what these words are describing? Well I’ll go ahead and give the answer: Western Kansas. I-70 in particular.

And I have to be very honest, I’ve uttered those words myself over the years. Shame on me.

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‘Sup? oh my….SUP

My oldest daughter has an SUP. Stand up paddleboard, in case you need to know. Her mother-in-law also has one. They rave about how fun they are, how easy they are to use, how great the muscular work-out they provide.

So I sure enough wanted to try and see for myself last November in the bay water of Palacios, Texas. Perhaps I should have received warning signals from the opposing phrases “easy to use” and “great work-out”. But, of course, I didn’t. Read on.

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A moment in time

I had a “moment” the other day. It all started when I saw my hairbrush while getting ready for the day. It was full of gray hair. FULL of gray hair. And in that moment, I “saw” my mom. Of course when my eyes lifted to look in the mirror, there she was again.

The day was Sunday. As we were in church right before the service was to begin, a young woman and her very young daughter walked down the aisle next to where we were seated. She took a seat in the pew in front of us and to the left a bit. It was the front row of our section in the very large church we attend. No one else was sitting near them, giving us a close up view of the two of them.

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Yaks and Origami

For most of the month of November we’ve been volunteering at a faith-based camp on the Texas gulf. Palacios by the Sea is a lovely little spot in the universe. So low-key and friendly. About 4600 folks call Palacios home. It’s bordered by a lovely bay that connects to the Gulf of Mexico. By the way, for those of you word nerds who need to know how Palacios is pronounced: Puh-lash-us

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