There's something cleansing about dirt....

I love where we live.  A little town outside of Raleigh.

Electricity and runnin' water.  Cable TV and an ice maker.

Our home sits on about an acre.  Close enough to neighbors

to yell for help and be heard, but not close enough to raise

a window, whisper a request to borrow a cup of sugar, and have

a neighbor hand it to you from their driveway.

(Do neighbors even borrow sugar anymore?)

At the end of our street there's a big field.  This past summer

it was full of tobacco.  Now it's all plowed and getting ready

for whatever's next.

I walked up there today. The sun was starting to get lower in

the West, casting shadows in the furrows.

That was some beautiful dirt.

Memories of diggin' in it as a kid flashed in my mind.

Looking for worms, or fashioning foxholes for my toy soldiers.

Throwing dirt clods.  Making mud pies.

Gettin' a little dirty helps us come clean....

A lesson in the leaves...

My favorite color is green.

My favorite colors are Fall.

Marianne and I drove to and from West Virginia this past week.

Going, the leaves were beautiful.

Coming home, they were spectacular.

There was something extra about them this year that struck

a chord within me.

I reflected on the life of leaves.

That little bud in Spring.

With the rain and sun and nutrients from the roots, it flourishes

into its full strength and greenness, allowing it to ride out

the storms of Summer.

But, it is the Fall that brings out its vibrancy.

Fall is when the leaves take your breath away.

Fall is when you feel their power.

Fall is when you appreciate them.

Perhaps we are as leaves.

Sorry, it ain't here yet......

I know, I know.  It's FALL!!!

Nope.

I don't care what the calendar says.

I don't care that the sun is setting a little after 7pm.

I don't care that there's pumpkin spiced stuff everywhere.

I don't care that I even have had to paw through my sock drawer

because my tootsies get chilly in the morning.

It is not Fall until I have mowed the lawn for the last time

in 2014.

When that happens, I'll be happy to celebrate with you

and don a sweatshirt, sip hot chocolate and put the Hawaiian

shirts away.

I'll let you know when that day comes to pass.

Scratch that.

My wife will let me know when that day comes to pass,

and then I'll pass the word on to you.

The Toy Hall Of Fame...

Yep. There's a Toy Hall Of Fame.

It was formed in 1998, which, surprisingly, was 16 years ago and not 6.

This year's nominees are: American Girl Dolls, Bubbles, Fisher Price

Little People, Hess Trucks, Little Green Army Men, My Little Pony,

Operation, Paper Airplane, Pots and Pans, Rubik's Cube, Slip-N-Slide

and the Teenaged Mutant Ninja Turtles....

Two of them will make the cut.

Some classics that have already been inducted include:

The Stick. In my hands it became a sword or bat, gun or fishing pole.

Etch A Sketch. The "original" laptop. I spent hours making boxes

and staircases, and seconds trying to make a circle before I'd give up.

Play Doh. I close my eyes and I can still smell it.

Frisbee. I owned a number of them, and their life expectancy

depended on my ability to keep them away from nearby roofs

and/or our dog, Lucky.

The Cardboard Box is in there too.  I made tanks and spaceships out of

'em...

Fun stuff.

But it wasn't just about the toy.

It was about imagination and pretending.

Because, after all,without them, a stick's just a...........stick.

Seek and ye shall find........

I was looking for another book when I came across this one.

I opened it and noticed the date that it was presented to me.

51 years ago today.

I had just started the 4th grade.

Life was simple.

Of course, a lot has happened over the years.

School. Career. Marriage. Family.

Joy and tragedy.

Life got more complicated.

Finding this Bible reminded me of my roots.

Both physical and spiritual.

I am so very far from perfect, a sinner in thoughts and deeds.

But this Book has been the foundation for a life I've tried to live.

And I'll keep on trying....

My Pyramid Scheme......

I love how the simplest things can trigger a long forgotten memory.

Today I saw a travel brochure that featured the Egyptian pyramids.

I immediately flashed back to my 6th grade social studies class.

We have a project due and I had decided on making a replica of

a pyramid.  I had crafted the shape of the pyramid from cardboard

and wanted to cover it in the same stuff I had made "salt maps" from for

earlier projects.  Young people these days have zero idea what I'm

talking about when I reference "salt maps".

It was a concoction of salt, flour and water, that when blended

properly, would allow you to fashion topographical features onto

the outline of a map that you had drawn on a piece of plywood.

You used food coloring to denote different features.

Blue for water.  Green for land.

But for the pyramid, I needed brown.

I was at a loss, until my Dad came up with the perfect remedy.

Instead of using water, why not try using coffee?

And so I did.

It gave the mixture a very realistic desert appearance.

I presented my pyramid.

It looked great.

I received an "A" from my teacher.

While I can't prove that I'm a unique case, I can tell you

that I'm the only student that I've ever heard of to get an "A"

because their teacher loved the way a project smelled...

They came in a can......

Younger friends think I'm joking.

But I'm not.

They came in a can.  And they were delivered to our front door.

Potato chips.

What a concept.

I can't tell you the last time an ice cream truck rolled through

our neighborhood.

But I remember those chips.

And the big can they came in.

Back when my metabolism mimicked that of a three week

old gerbil.  On crack.