OK, I may get the nautical terms wrong, or just not use them, but I AM a landlubber with limited sailing experiences. My first came when good friends and former neighbors, Ray and Carol Ann, invited Sheila and me to join them for a day on the waters of San Diego with their sailboat. The air rushed past my face as we flew into the wind. One side lifted as we turned, reminding me of taking a tight turn on my motorcycle, but somehow even more thrilling. Then Ray invited to experience the joy of “driving” it, and encouraged me to take a wild turn as one side cleared the water. My wife screamed “Slow down!” in fear, even as Ray encouraged me on. I confess, I listened to…
Read MoreHello Again, Old Friend
Earlier in the day, the trout on Rock Creek almost jumped into my creel. I’d parked alongside the road and hiked overland to a rarely fished stretch, not another fisherman in sight. Anywhere. I loved both the solitude and lack of competition. The first hole yielded a small brown, maybe 8”, who likely appreciated being returned to his frigid home.
He was the first of twelve trout caught in just over two hours that day; two were keepers at 14” each, and provided dinner for Sheila and me my first night back. Pizza at the campground’s café and a hot shower seemed to top off the day. But God was yet to surprise me. Relaxing in the small cabin…
Read MoreDeep Roots
Winter may be southern California’s finest season. The temps are moderate (we’ve been in the 80s for most of February) and winter rains turn the hills into a lush green with native grasses. But weeds accompany the native grasses. Often abundantly. Our house has a slope, about 20 feet high and 90 feet long, covered with ice plant. I’ve discovered weeding it often is best, but navigating the bank in my old steel baseball cleats in my 70s can wear me out. So, I do it in stages. Just a few weeks ago…
Read MoreOf Wine and Weeds
Today, the Sunday before this post went up, provided some great encouragement and a lesson. The message at church convicted me to the core of my soul, then I had a great bacon cheeseburger at a local golf course. Then Sheila and I stopped off at our winery (well, we’re members, not owners 😉), and something struck me. Look at the pic above. Just in front of us were…
Read MoreJust Keep Dancing
I met John Melton on a motorcycle ride several years back, and we connected nicely and have become good friends. About the same ages, both spent time in the Hawthorne/Lawndale area, and both loved Jesus. The rides continued, then I mentioned we needed pull out drawers for our kitchen cabinets, and the semi-retired contractor volunteered to help. OK, to be honest, he did most of it and I helped. Together we…
Read MoreVariety and Differences
On Thursday, toward the end of our group’s 2021 bike ride, Mick and I rode from Grass Valley in the west side of the Sierras to his daughter and son-in-law’s house in Susanville, on the east side. Friday was a family birthday celebration, so that day I took off on a solo ride north on Hwy 139 past Eagle Lake to Alturas and then south on Hwy 395 back to Susanville. That ride provided 135 miles of joy. I left the music off to focus on enjoying the scenery: majestic mountains and lush grassy meadows and high desert, good-sized lakes and dry creek beds. Ponderosa pines and aspen and cedar and pinon pines. Deer and cattle and eagles and hawks and juncos and who knows what else. I apologize for…
Read MoreDeadheads
No, as much as I loved their music, this post won’t focus on the Grateful Dead band and their fans. Sorry to all the deadheads, but the allusion is unavoidable for a 60s child! A few years ago, we prepped our house and yard for an overnight visit from my sister, her husband, and her friend, and I got the task of “deadheading” our Iceberg roses in the front yard. Icebergs produce abundant white roses, but flowers die and need to be pruned for new blooms to blossom. Hence the name “deadhead.” The process is to…
Read MoreMidnight Whispers
Possibly like some of you, my spiritual state moves up and down. Oh, I always believe in Jesus as my Savior and Lord and follow and serve Him, but the sense of closeness ebbs and flows. And frankly, I usually have no clue why, but I have learned some about the process. Two months ago, I was riding high spiritually. The last several weeks, not so much. God was there, I had no doubt, but the sense of intimacy wasn’t there. Then, after an excellent family Christmas and a marvelous Christmas worship service, God wooed me back with whispers in the night. It came with…
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