Take Me Out to the Ball Game

Take me out to the ball game

Take me out to the crowd

Buy me some peanuts and cracker jacks

I don't care if I ever come back

For it's root, root, root for the home team

If they don't win it's a shame

For it's 1--2--3 strikes your out at the old ball game

 

The only rule we have about baseball is never, ever leave before the game is over.  We left at the top of the eighth and the home team was down 1-0.  They scored once in the eighth and once in the ninth to win the game 2-1.  Never, ever leave before the game is over!

An Old-Fashioned Weekend

There's something to be said for simpler times.

We recently found a great opportunity to share with our kids a few things found in simpler times.  We landed ourselves near Orrville, OH - home of Smucker's.  

Near the Smucker's Store and Cafe is an old-fashioned hardware store located in Ohio's Amish country.  This store prides itself on carrying nothing electric!

Ironically, simple takes on two very different meanings at these two locations.  In one case, simple means a process made more convenient.  

 

In the other case, simple means basic or less complex.  

Regardless, it was fun to enjoy and discover the simplicities of life.

My children were most enamored with the moving parts of pasta, soap, and ice cream makers.  They spent long minutes turning wheels and wondering how each product was made inside the machine.

 

We took delight in the old-fashioned containers, furniture, and memorabilia - some of which reminded my husband and me of our own youth.

We played a little hide and seek.

And made a new friend at the pizza shop across the street.

Photo taken by my youngest daughter!

And lest you should think the day was all smiles and fun, we begrudgingly stopped for a photo opp.

 

The day was a glorious, sun-shiny, windy and cool summer day made even more glorious in our effort to be a little more simple - together!

Lessons from a Drive

"The grass is always greener . . . "

"This OR that . . ."

"You can't have your cake and eat it, too."

These cliches filled my mind during an early morning drive to my doctor's office.  The drive into a large, urban city reminded me of my long ago commute of bumper-to-bumper, four-lane highway decorated with red brake lights and sounds of honking horns.  Each day, the 12 mile commute lasted more than an hour and cost me a lot more in stress and anxiety.

In sharp contrast, my drive home was more typical of the daily traffic in my more rural life - wide-open, flower-lined roads, blue skies, and streets named for the people who live on them (Mae and Gene Lane).

 

 

I've come to love this simpler life.  Don't get me wrong, we are busy. Often, too busy.  But, the pace is different here and the air is clear here and everything is green.

On my drive, I also realized the dichotomy that is life.  

There are many things I miss about my urban life.  Mostly, I miss progressively minded people.  I miss a brand of Christianity that is genuinely open and welcome to all people, that blends a bit of tradition with a bit of contemporary in a thoughtful and meaningful way.  I miss a diversity in people - Black, Middle Eastern, Asian, Latino - all speaking their native tongue in the local shopping areas.  I miss culture - music, art, theater.

I don't know that I can have "both/and."  It's been an exhausting search.

I like the simpler life, though.  So, for now, I choose this road . . .

F.A.M.I.L.Y.

And when I say F.A.M.I.L.Y., I don't mean the five of us living under this roof.  I mean aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents - the whole kit and caboodle.

I have to admit, because I'm good at being busy and because that busy always felt so meaningful and important, I've not always been real good about "doing" family.  I'm horrible at phone calls and birthday cards.  I'm not great at planning short trips to see my grandmother or my aunts and uncles that live near.  I'm not good at letters or emails, though Facebook has helped in this area.  You could say that I've taken F.A.M.I.L.Y. a bit for granted.

As the last few months have unfolded and I've stopped to notice the world around me, family has taken a much more prominent seat.  So when the opportunity came to take my children and go out to eat with my aunt and uncle visiting from Florida, I jumped.

My uncle and Grandma

My aunt

I also learned how important extended family is to my children.  Somehow my children knew that because these folks were called "aunt" and "uncle," they mattered.  They also knew that this was Grandpa's brother, so they expected a lot of silliness.  They got it!

Dad

Tickle Fest - Wonder who initiated this? Her? Him?

Uncle pulling their leg!

Tickle Fest - Not to be out done by his little sister!

And as only true Italian families "do", there were plenty of stories, lots of food, a few loud voices, hugs and kisses, laughter and love.

Mmmm . . .Chocolate!

Too much grown up talk!

But for me, the part I cherish the most, are the moments my children and I can still share with my Grandma - who is 86 and recently confronted heart surgery like a champ, by the way!

She started this mess . . . and I'm glad she did!