The List

Lists, lists, we all make lists. Things to do. Things to do before we..... leave work for the day, end of month, go on vacation, retire, kick the bucket! Yep, "kick the bucket" as in die. How did such a frivolous term get connected with death? Hubby says "Look it up, do a Google search." So I did and in 16th century England bucket had meaning of "a beam or yoke used to hang items." The beam used to hang animals by their feet for slaughter was called a bucket and animals during slaughter would struggle or spasm after death and hence "kick the bucket." How gross, huh?

Anyway, this weekend hubby and I saw the new movie, "The Bucket List." Very entertaining and thought-provoking. The basic concept of the movie is a couple of guys make a list of things they want to do before they die. Their adventures are fun and how they cross things off their list take on new meaning too. I have a friend that a few years ago started her own "bucket" list, so I excitedly called her right after the movie and encouraged her to see the movie. She reminded me that several of the things on the list were meant to be shared with me, like hot-air balloon ride. Well, we have not done that yet, I chickened-out when the opportunity came up a couple of years ago.

What does a person do when they are afraid to do the things on their own list? Does that mean I get to live longer until the fear is replaced by eagerness and actually do the hot-air balloon ride? Can't answer that as I don't know when my time to "kick" will have arrived. Hubby started his list and has five things-to-do on it. He, too, has hot-air balloon ride on his, so maybe I can talk him into going with my friend! :)

I have not been able to think of anything to put on my list yet. I did have a list quite a few years ago and I remember writing down, "write a book" and "build a house I've designed." I have lost that list, but I remember those two things and I'm glad to say that I have lived in two houses that I designed and built. I don't know if I will ever write a book and after all this blogging, I can tell you that it will be a lot more work than I originally thought. It makes that hot-air balloon ride seem like a piece-of-cake! FYI - Piece of cake originated in the Royal Air Force in the 1930's for an easy mission. Possibly evokes the easy accomplishment of swallowing a slice of dessert.

What's on your list? Gotta run and get mine started.

Doing it again!

We saw some neighbors tonight and I was greeted by one of them, "Rayna, you haven't written in the new year!" Yes, I took a break. Took a break from blogging, took a break from walking, took a break from thinking. After a New Years trip up North, I came back home to "hibernate" and cuddle in my blanket while it was dark and cold outside. I caught up on some reading and just plain relaxed.

Since I changed my work hours to 7 am - 4 pm, I have been using the time that I previously would walk to be getting ready for work. The after-work walking just did not cut-it for me, I'm too lazy by the end of the day. So it became easier and easier to just skip the walking. The plus side is that my feet, legs and back did not hurt any longer. However, I was surprised to find myself waking earlier than needed (to get to work) and thinking about walking, I missed it! Lo & behold, what mind-boggling concept for me to go through.... missing a daily walk!

Sunday, I went for a leisurely walk and Monday got up at 5:15 am and did my mile and a half. Today, too! I figured that since I was walking, I might as well start blogging again. Let the thoughts pour on out on the computer! We'll see what happens.

The Rest of the Story

Paul Harvey used to (maybe still does) have a radio show that he would tell about a person and then leave you hanging for disclosure of the person while a commercial was aired. Then he'd come back on and say something like "And now for the rest of the story."

Hubby & I made a quick trip to The Island yesterday, South Padre Island that is. We were not able to drive onto the beach as usual as we took the smaller, lower-to-the ground car, so parked and walked out to the beach. Right in front of us were two red roses laying on the beach. One of the roses was in good shape (see picture) and other was rather mangled. Hubby said exactly what I was thinking, "I wonder what the story is behind these roses laying here?"

It makes a person wonder, right? I have a vivid imagination and these kind of scene/scenarios really get my juices a-flowing! Who left them? Where did they leave them? Was there a lover's quarrel? How long had they been laying there? Questions, questions and no answers except what we could imagine. As we walked down the beach, we tossed out ideas and thoughts. I thought maybe it was a candid-camera sort of stunt to see what people would do with two red roses laying on the beach. Upon returning to that spot after our walk, the rose pictured above was gone and the "mangled" one was left. Now it got our interest.... Did the waves wash the other one away? Did someone pick it up? Regretfully, we will never know the rest of the story.

However it got me thinking about my actions recently. My anger came out sideways and I basically gave someone a black, wilted "rose." They were not expecting it (my anger) and I know they were questioning what was the "rest of the story" behind my actions and words. What kind of roses do we give people? Do we give a beautiful red rose that makes them wonder with pleasure what they did to deserve it? Or do we give a mangled black rose that makes them wonder with anxiety what they did to deserve it?

We make the choice of what kind of rose we will leave for people to find. Each and every day, we make choices. Too bad, that we're human and sometimes our choices are not the best. I need to remember the "red rose on the beach" and think about what I'm giving or leaving to people before I speak and act. What will they find after I've left?