Lesson 893: Rest Here

Hello, Readers.

It's Friday night.

Time to rest here

under the light of the lamp post

for a little bit.

I love to see the activity in the park!

Kids 

and dogs

and bikes!

Mr. Hand's Bike Club

had an after school session this week.

The park was alive last Saturday

for fishing in the pond.

It was a bit rainy,

but no one seemed to mind.

All you need is a big umbrella

and a Mickey Mouse raincoat.

This is the newest family nugget!

She rests here,

in her little cocoon!

It was a great fishing day 

for Dads and Daughters.

The pasture is starting to bloom!

Slight bits of baby green

and spring-soft white.

I was headed out of school

on a cloud covered day this week.

Erie skies will look mostly like this

for the next two months.

I inched  closer to all the Hondas

in the parking lot,

wondering if this counts as a foreign car.

Will the parts for my aging van

cost more?

I spied a boat!

Is it the freighter?
(Remember, LOST fans?)

Not Penny's Boat.

I guess LOST is streaming somewhere,

as I've seen posts from new fans.

I will never tire of talking about my favorite

TV show of all time!

And I watched the story unfold in real time.

No binge watching for Eloise.

I had to wait a full week for the next episode.

I even impatiently waited out a writers strike

in Season 3.

This reminds me of my most recent read--

it, too,

has a LOST feel to it.

It checks all the boxes for a great read.

It's a mystery set around

a seed vault.

Read this book

with your phone next to you

so you can look up all the plants

and wildlife

as they are mentioned.

Emily St. John Mandel 

thinks so, too!

She is the author of another 

recent 5 star read,

Station Eleven is about a pandemic

and the subsequent world collapse--

a story she wrote in

2014 

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Grandma didn't like the ending.

She told me it was stupid.

Evidence that Grandma is on the mend

from her recent health emergency.

Grandma still needs more rest.

The old gal has a really hard time sitting.

I was birthed by a hyperactive,

high-strung person.

Then I married a hyperactive,

high-strung person.

I guess that is why I like to read

and watch plants bloom.

It's a little rest from the busyness

that always surrounds me.

I spent a little time in nature 

with some high-strung students this week.

We were at Camp Glinodo

with the scientists and educators

from the Regional Science Consortium.

Hailey led groups of teens

out on a walk along the creek.

They made field journals that they took with them.

She asked them not to talk--

just observe,

take notes,

make sketches,

and enjoy.

It was great to see 

these usually jumpy and inquisitive teens,

so calm and relaxed upon their return.

If you haven't read this book yet,

I highly recommend:

Then get your body outside

and look for these cool turkey feather fungus.

So, Readers, 

I'm going to say the two words

I say most often:
I'm tired.

Eloise fills her days

and feels it by the nights.

I think I'll follow 

the advice of this sign

near a bench,

by a curve in the stream,

at Camp Glinodo.

I think I will.

Grandma,

that means you, too.

Eloise

 

Lesson 892: Joy and Pain

 Every Friday evening,

I sit down with my camera,

my computer,

and my favorite drink.

Tonight it's a mini can of Coke.

As I flip through the photos,

keep my favorites,

delete the bad ones,

and sharpen up my very favorites

to save in the blogosphere.

Then I like to find the commonality

as I work for a title.

What is the thin,

red

thread

that weaves the week together.

Kind of like this Chinese proverb,

but with events,

not people.

                                                                        This week came easy:

Joy and Pain.

Nearly every event fit into one category 

or the other,

with not much in between.

We'll start with a joy,

and it's a big one.

We celebrated this Legal Adult's birthday

two days early,

making this Future Math Major

17.994520548

years old at the time of the cake cutting.

On Sam's real birthday 

he was in Myrtle Beach, SC

playing his first game of the season.

Sam's joyous entry into the world

was definitely my most painful

labor and delivery.

Grandma found herself in the throes of horrific pain.

She has returned home

from her hospitalization

and is recovering well.

Our family had a painful loss this week.

We are reeling from the unexpected passing

of Dear Aunt Joby.

How she will be missed!

This is a snippet from her obituary.

Her favorite quote was from Madeleine L’Engle. “We do not draw people to Christ by loudly discrediting what they believe, by telling them how wrong they are and how right we are, but by showing them a light that is so lovely that they want with all their hearts to know the source of it.”

She lived every day as a true testament to her faith.

Aunt Joby had tons of hobbies.

She was a great storyteller

and always had an anecdote to add to any conversation.

She came to my book club that is not a book club

as often as she could.

Her last recommendations to read

were:

and these by Abraham Verghese.

A beautiful example of Joy and Pain

standing side by side in the real world

comes from this week's Survivor episode.

Eva, a contestant,

has Autism,

unbeknownst to many of the other players.

This is the challenge that brought about

an episode of extreme emotional dysregulation.

CLICK HERE

She was helped through it

from a competitor.

This is what people with autism

need when their emotions become so severe

they cannot gather themselves back together

without help.

Here is the kind intervention.

CLICK HERE

Joy and pain all rolled together in one.

And that,

Dear Readers,

has been my week.

Eloise is extremely low on sleep,

so I'll be hiding out at the Lamp Post

most of the weekend.

4 hours one night

Followed the next night with 

a little over an hour.

I could use a little emotional regulation myself!

Enjoy the weekend readers.

Eloise

Lesson 891: Bench Hole

 Hello, Readers.

Eloise spies some spring skies!

(and so does this guy,

from atop his Firman Road telephone pole)

Heavy clouds

have moved in,

bearing cold rain 

over the lake.

I love a good, open-sky shot.

Even if it is 

over the Walmart parking lot.

And this neat capture

is from atop the Foxwood subdivision.

Some of the Lamp Posters

left the 'burbs 

last weekend

and headed south.

It was Maple Syrup weekend,

and we made a stop at 
Yeany's in Marienville.

We got a tour of their operation

and a pancake breakfast!

We retuned to the cabin to walk off

the carbs.

The colors of spring were 

starting to emerge.

Green

Purple

Orange

There are always stories

when it comes to camp.

Eloise is a storyteller,

so you are getting the story of

Bench Hole tonight.

Hang a right out of the cabin

and follow the path 

straight into the 

Allegheny National Forest.

Walk about a football field down the horse trail

and you'll come 

to this pretty creek bend.

Just around that bend

you'll find a bench,

right there in the middle 

of the 

Allegheny National Forest.

It's a very unlikely spot for a bench!

Here is the story:

For years and years,

across from our cabin,

a red bench sat at the edge of Spring Creek

on the property of Bert and Cheryl Nemcik,

now deceased,

but very much alive

in spirit and in the legends 

of storytelling.

Hundreds of people

rested and reflected

on that red bench on the water's edge.

In the Big Snow of 2017,

there was subsequently 

the Big Melt of 2018. 

The fast flowing waters 

of the fast-melt

uprooted the red bench.

It wound its way downstream,

and landed upright

perfectly in this spot,

as if angels themselves

delivered it there

for fishermen to sit on.

Since then,

the fisherman have referred to the spot

as Bench Hole.

Fast forward a few years,

and the conglomerate from

East Southwoods Lane

missed their bench and wanted it back.

After an afternoon of imbibing,

a girl gang at the neighboring camp

decided to bring the bench back.

They made the trek,

chanting 

Bench, bench, bench!

Swam across the stream

and brought it back to its original home.

Unbeknownst to anyone,

an old, local fisherman witnessed the event.

In a casual conversation about fishing,

the old man told the story to a family friend

who loves nothing more 

than to spend a Saturday afternoon.

fishing that hole.

The old man relayed his version of the story

to our friend

"...they was chanting Bench, bench, bench!

And it was a bunch of women!"

The old fisherman marveled at the girls' brute strength,

but lamented his resting spot.

It was not two weeks later

that Eloise had a second bench flown in

to the spot the fishermen love to sit.

This time,

not on the wings of angels,

but the wings of butterflies.

Enjoy your peace,

fishermen.

Eloise