Twenty Years Ago…

Twenty years ago this past May, I graduated from Milligan College.

Twenty years ago this past week, I packed my brand new Celica to the gills with all my belongings and headed for uncharted territory in Kentucky.

Twenty years ago, I had no idea what was ahead for me.

Twenty years ago, I thought I’d NEVER fall out of touch with any of my college friends.

Twenty years ago this past summer, I raised a nest full of blue jays who had been abandoned at our lake cottage.

Twenty years ago today, I had no job… and no idea what job I might ever find. And it didn’t really bother me.

Twenty years ago, I could fill up the gas tank in my car for about $16. And drive forever on it.

Twenty years ago this fall, I remember that it felt wrong not to be driving back to Tennessee for another year of school. My first time coming to grips with the concept of growing up and moving on.

Twenty years ago, I still tended to keep all my possessions in one room. (“Dorm Syndrome” I call it.)

Twenty years ago this month, I met the man I would eventually marry. At church in a small town in Kentucky.

What were YOU doing 20 years ago?

You Are So Proud of Me!

I rode thirty miles on my bike yesterday. Let me clarify: I pedaled thirty miles on my bicycle yesterday. I do not want any one to be confused and think that I took a ride on Glenn’s motorcyle!

Things I learned on yesterday’s training ride:

1. Thirty miles is a long way.
2. Hills make it a longer way.
3. I like Gatorade.
4. Gatorade is too precious to squirt at rogue bike-chasing dogs.
5. Barking at the dogs works pretty well.
6. Those “granny gears” on the bike serve a purpose.
7. I am officially a “granny” when it comes to hills.
8. If you look up the hill, it always looks steep.
9. If you look at the road right in front of your tire, the hill isn’t as steep anymore.
10. The holes in your helmet are not big enough to get your fingers in if you have an itch.

So, I’m feeling slightly more prepared for the trek… but I’m still iffy on whether to do the long ride on Saturday. After yesterday, I would almost say that 30 miles is my limit – so the shorter ride would be the one for me. But then again, if I can do 30 miles in less than 3 hours, with only a limited amount of training… surely I can force myself to tough it out for 60 or so, with some good rest stops and no particular time limit to complete the distance. Right?

Here’s your chance everyone… tell me I can do it!

Friday Morning Rain Haiku

The rain fell softly,
and I got to stay in bed
and listen to it.

I think that must be
the best way to greet the day
ever invented.

Happy Birthday Abby.

Hi everyone.

Last week I put this new little widget in my sidebar. Some of you may have realized what it signified and others may not have. I thought I’d take a moment to explain it.

Ever since Easter of 2005, and probably indefinitely from here on out, when I see a butterfly I remember Abigail Van Campen. Abby is the third child and the first daughter of my good friends Todd and Guinever. Feb. 26 is Abby’s birthday. This week would have been her 5th.

Those who live in or around Lexington may recall the story from March of 2005, when Abby went to be with Jesus. If you aren’t familiar with it, I’m not going to recount it here. It still brings tears and it’s really not my story to tell. But it was right before Easter, and the butterflies and daffodils that we tend to associate with that time of year have become things that remind me of little Abby.

Maybe because I have a February birthday, too… or maybe just because… I remembered that Abby’s birthday was coming up. So, Abby and her parents and siblings have been on my mind lately. And in honor of Abby’s birthday this week, and the upcoming anniversary of her leaving us, I created the little butterfly widget to remain in my sidebar through Easter.

If anyone has ever lost a child, or known someone who has lost a child, I highly recommend that you visit the website that Guinever created in honor of her daughter. If nothing else, I urge you to read the memorial that Guinever wrote, which was read at Abby’s funeral. If there could ever be anything like a “reason” for such a tragic thing to happen, this memorial could be it. What an incredible, powerful witness Abby’s parents have been able to share, even in the wake of her passing.

Biker chick.

Forgive the graininess of this photo… the original wasn’t too crisp to begin with:

I am not sure of the year on this photo, but it’s definitely early 70s. This was taken on the street where we lived from 1971 to 1979, on Glenwood Road in Bethesda, MD. A fine portrait of me and my fancy bike with the swell plastic basket in front, complete with colorful plastic daisies.

You will see that I am sporting another remarkable “Early Laura” ensemble: purple and gold striped shirt (with lace up neckline!) and matching purple shorts. Polyester? Probably. I’m sure the stripes on those little tube socks matched everything else, too. Oh let’s face it people… I was all that and a bag of chips. You know you wish you were me.

I am smiling proudly here, and why not? The bike looks pretty new –probably the occasion for the photo. This was obviously taken at a time when riding bikes was all fun and freedom… the broken noses and concussions would come a little later.

It has occurred to me now and then, especially since I have two boys who are of bike riding age, how “the times, they are a changin’.” Back in the 70s, I rode my bike everywhere. I lived in a neighborhood where I could ride to the places that interested me without having to cross any major roads full of traffic. I could ride to school, visit all my friends, go to the library, even go to Brown’s store on Old Georgetown Road in relative safety. And, if I wanted to go anywhere that was a little further out (that might involve crossing a busier road), I pretty much just had to yell my intentions to my Mom as I headed out the door.

All this is not to say that I had no boundaries… I had them, and I knew exactly what they were. Also, truly, the boundaries were quite large. I wonder sometimes if my parents ever worried about me riding all over the place pretty much unsupervised. They never let on if they did.

Now, contrast all that with last summer, when my boys (then ages 8 and 10 – older than I am in the above photo) wanted to ride less than two miles to our neighborhood park…

First, Glenn and I had to call an Emergency Parent Conference about the matter. This was followed by a mandatory Here Is How You Have To Do It Meeting with the boys, which included a special presentation on what they had to wear (helmets!). At that point, a Reasonable Time Frame was declared for the trip, which they had to abide by lest we contact the appropriate authorities and send out a search party. If they managed to complete their little venture without incident, they would avoid Grounding From All Recreational Activity Until Further Notice.

Believe it or not, they managed to take their trip to the park and back again. Funny, I don’t think they have asked to do it since…