Another week on the path least traveled….

Dear Diary Page 9…

Hello Diary,
Been a interesting venture down the path least traveled this week..a week of quotes… smile

Other than being busy dealing with life’s tasks and issues, met a young lady on the internet..as I am not one for labels, she used one of society’s labels and said “she was a transgender”.. I said “ah, a lady with a birth defect, I don’t see that would be a issue”…she was concerned about her destiny and I gave her a quote from Thoreau; “If one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavours to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in the common hours.” As you think, so you shall be (from the internet)…anonymous, she ventured off to find her destiny….smile

Then the neighbor boy was concerned about his abilities in sports, mainly baseball and softball … whether he was good enough…I told him to do his best, be patient and determined and he will do fine, not everyone will be a superstar but you cannot have a superstar without a team behind him…. Reminded me of a quote from Michelangelo “The greatest danger for most of us is not that our aim is too high and we miss it, but that it is too low and we reach it.”

And finally as I ventured to the post office I encountered, and I use the term loosely, “gentleman” there ranting about how people that are “different”, be it gender, religion, etc will be the end of society… I promptly shared with him a quote by Samuel Clemens , A.K.A Mark Twain “ sometimes it is best for one to keep ones mouth shut and appear stupid, rather than open ones mouth and remove all doubt” and I left the conversation at that….smile

That being said, Diary, will leave with a poem I wrote to brighten things up a bit…. a laid back, quiet weekend planned, and venture on down that path least traveled with little Bree, Fate be willin’ and the creeks don’t rise…

A Kipling I know I’m not
I know that from the start,
No eloquent words here, my love
Just words of love, from the heart.

Nothing cute or fancy…
No false charmers words here,
But words of undying love for you, my darling
From my heart, my very spirit…. my dear.

Couldn’t find the words for some time
Searched every book and song,
Until that wonderful precious day
That YOU, my love, came along.

Now that I have the words, beloved
What’s this ole country boy to do,
How will these arthritic hands, my love
Say those precious words to you.

It will have to be done right, you know
And I know I will find a way,
To say how much I Love You more
With every heartbeat, each and every day.

There will be no falsehoods or lies for you, dear one
No meaningless empty words, cute or clever,
For I would rather you love me for just one day
Than to hate this ole country boy forever.
(penned by Larry “Dutch” Woller, 7-12-2008)

To whom it may concern….

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To the 12th of Never…….

Dear Diary Page 8….

It’s evening here, all is serene
Waiting for the sandman, my love,
Thoughts of you fill my mind and heart
While gazing at stars above.

Trying to find the elusive words
That will allow this mortal to say,
In a thousand ways that I Love You
And will always do so each and every day.

Thoughts of you are in my mind
My spirit, yea my very heart,
Can’t find all the words I’m looking for
Don’t even know where to start.

So this will have to do, my love
For now it’s the best I can do,
To tell you from the bottom of my heart
How much that I love you!

A love that is without end
Through an eternity it will endure,
A love so wonderfully right
Beautiful, loving and pure.

And know this, my beloved
As I did, from the very start,
Your love will be locked forever
Inside this country boys heart.

To the 12th of Never and beyond……..

(penned by Larry “Dutch” Woller 6-24-08)

“Being differnet………….”

Dear Diary Page 7….

Hello Diary,

I rarely get on my soapbox, mainly because I don’t have one…( I do but Dial soap comes in it and the last time I tried to stand on the empty box, it collapsed…smile)… but ever once in awhile I feel the need to put in my two cents worth…usually it is to the tree in the backyard as it is the only thing that listens to me ( when it talks back I will stop putting in my two cents worth..smile)…

Well, Diary, the topic today is today’s society (here in America AND the world), which appears to be getting more and more intolerant, un-compromising and self-centered… “polarized” is what is used today, I believe…mainly people who have their created “world” (“Life is a process of becoming, a combination of states we have to go through. Where people fail is that they wish to elect a state and remain in it. This is a kind of death”. Anais Nin) and treat and judge others accordingly and then “birds of like feather flock together… anyone who wishes to live THEIR dream, what THEIR heart and spirit feels, to be what THEY wish to be and do and pursue life, liberty and happiness, are caught in-between and usually ridiculed, and at times, bullied and threatened, perhaps even worse… just because they do not meet society’s standards, just because those dreamers and doers are “different”…

Diary, being different is a lot like venturing down the path least traveled, not many (in relation to society) do it because of the lack of courage.. the FEAR of what SOCIETY may think of them…

On the path least traveled, one is not judged, or thought of, by their “image” (like a cover of a book) but what is inside, what they truly are and share thoughts about the all the yesterdays and tomorrows…and on the path least traveled, we (Bree and I) carry a dream..

And follow our rainbow to our destiny..

Because we know

So, Diary, in your daily travels, should you come across someone “different”, tell them to try the path least traveled.. it is a pleasant journey…So, on down the path least traveled venture Bree and I, Fate be willin’ and the creeks don’t rise….don’t know what is at the end, but it will be “different”…smile

Sing it, Kermy……

School, poetry, song, yesterday, tomorrow and a time to say goodbye…

School, poetry, song, yesterday, tomorrow and a time to say goodbye…

Dear Diary Page 6…

Have been quite active this past week, bringing some of the yesterdays to a close, making plans for the tomorrows.. (never bring yesterdays memories to a close and hoping to make news ones with the tomorrows)… decided to go back to school (online) and taking a course in Spanish so spent some time setting up my “school room”, I know a few words but decided to learn more… many are learning English to communicate so thought the least I could do was meet them half-way smile..

school room

A little more about Bree, sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don’t…..

been saying goodbye to friends and family this past year and one dear friend came to mind, though never met her physically… (front row, second from the right)

June

She lived in the English village of Skendleby, loved her Lincolnshire Wolds

Lincolnshirewolds

And spent time at her favorite pub, The Blacksmith Arms

blacksmith-s-arms

was a distant relative of Elizabeth Barrett Brown, and we shared many a thought and witnessed many a world event on the internet over the years, using email and messenger and an occasional letter.. only phoned a handful of times because of the expense..she was a telegrapher during WWII, in Civil Service and wrote for media and poetry in her early years..she was a die-hard Rugby fan…she passed away last fall at the young age of 88 and had her ashes scattered over the Wolds…. will share one of her poems she shared with me…. in her early years she used her pen name “Chris Clark”..

For here I shall always be,
For I was the heart of this village
And this village the heart of me.
Look for me in the tight-closed buds
That will be green for you in the spring
Like my flower-seeds I sleep
I am still here, in everything.
And listen for me in the spring
For my voice the birds I will sing
I am with you forever
And here I will always be,
For I was the HEART of this village
And it still holds the heart of ME!
(Chris Clark, Skendleby 18.12.2011)

I suppose in this mortal world it will be that way in all things, a time to say goodbye…

Dear Diary Page 5…….. the Bagpipes

Dear Diary Page 5…
While being different, in history’s past, I learned to play the Great Highland Bagpipe, but no more, ran out of wind ( I know you probably find that hard to believe.. 🙂 ) and Bree don’t like the noise… but who knows, perhaps one day, should you venture onto the path least traveled, there in the distance, comes the faint sound of the highland pipes, and who knows, it may very well be me….if Fate is willin’ and the creeks don’t rise..

bagpipes

Taroluths, Lemlouths and grace notes
A double B, double D and ending in C,
All part of the great music
Of the Great Highland Pipes, don’t you see.

Highland Laddie, Scotland the Brave
Flower of Scotland and many more,
Piped many a brave lad
Into the jaws of war.

Heard my first highland pipes in ‘63
As Her Majesty’s Black Watch came ashore,
Marching in dress ranks
Like they were going to war.

I purchased my highland pipes
From Scotland’s highland clan Mcleod,
A pretty sight to behold
And.. Yes… they were loud.

Through shear determination
I finally learned to play,
Didn’t have a teacher
To help me along the way.

Played for myself for the most part
Played in a march or two,
But, alas, my time would come
When my playing days would be through.

My highland pipes are still now
The silence is so forlorn,
My hands no longer nimble
Battle scared and worn.

The pipes are quiet now
But I am waiting for the day,
When I once again hear
The Great Highland pipes play.

Perhaps to be the last sound I hear
Echoing over rock and loam,
As the Great Highland pipes
Pipe this old soldier home.

(Penned by Larry “Dutch” Woller July 2010)

I Believe I’d Like To Be Different Instead…

I Believe I’d Like To Be Different Instead…

Me and tulips

And why do I wish to be different, you may ask,
The freedom to choose, to explore, to learn a lot,
Dictated to by a prophet chained to a myth…. NOT
Maybe so everyone can shout and point at me and Bree,
And say, “Hey, they’re different”, don’t you see.

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My mind is clear and open, gathering knowledge every day
My spirit is young, adventuresome and floating free,
Not confined by those social chains, no box, no mold for me
I am what I am, I am me, what I wish to be,
So that makes me different, don’t you see.

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Many a way Bree is like me, a match pair we are, two of a kind
Don’t always fit, in most society’s thought and mind,
But sail against the current, pull on Superman’s cape, we shall
Spit into the wind, with courage face adversity with glee,
How and why?… because we are different, don’t you see.

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With a pocket full of memories, on the horizon be our dreams, that we know
The sails set full, safe harbor fading in the distance, becoming a faint glow,
Our course is set, our ship, the Spirit, is loaded, our destiny awaits
On down the path least traveled we will venture, me and little Bree,
Why the path least traveled?..Well, we’re different, don’t you see.

(Penned by Larry “Dutch” Woller 6-22-2010)

Continuing on down the path least traveled….

Dear Diary Page 4…

The following poem is that which inspired me to proceed as I am doing now… it actually is about “indecision”…but also popularly thought of as taking a path few, if any, ventures down…I combine both with a supposed quote by David Crockett “Be sure you are right, then go ahead”.. So putting indecision aside, making sure I am right (at least for me, smile), do travel down a path least taken by many, I suspect, exploring, learning new things, not falling into a trap of “close mindedness” created by some in a society that, as quoted by Anais Nin, “Life is a process of becoming, a combination of states we have to go through. Where people fail is that they wish to elect a state and remain in it. This is a kind of death.”

So, setting sail, leaving safe harbor, on down the path least traveled little Bree and I go, looking to the horizon, not sure where it will take us or what wonders lie ahead, but take it we will… Fate be willin’ and the creek’s don’t rise….

The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost….

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Will be awhile before we return here again, will be spending some time dealing with life, but return we will, Fate be willin’ and the creek’s don’t rise…

Until then…