1 May 2012 - 3 July 2012
On May 1st the campground @ Tall Timbers opened. So we went from the moldy, musty, "Fish Camp" into the familiar surrounds of our beloved 30' camper, 1996 Layton Skyline. Familiarity, memories of giggling children, shadows of the previous "Hounds of Thomas Haus" permeated every square inch.The bed, kitchen, couch, dinette were all our own. In a way, it was returning home, making the transition less heart wrenching for me. Change is always a challenge, whether we seek it, or it seeks us. I prefer the former. :)
The weather was slowly warming, leaves were returning to the trees. This May I would not be planting flowers for the first time in over 28 years. Rick is happy....he doesn't have to cut grass or tend to the yard.
Spring rapidly turned to Summer and it was June. The days became longer and the air warmer. Thank goodness for the functioning air conditioner on the camper!!
Because of construction and the logistics of the move, we canceled our plans for our two weeks in Hatteras on the North Carolina Outer Banks. We opted to enjoy moving to our local vacation spot instead.
July 1st a nasty storm hit us. That afternoon we were basking in glorious sunshine, poolside @ the Catawba Island Club. An ominous blackness was silently building on the north and western horizons. Erroneously we thought it would pass us to the north. The staff @ CiC closed the pool early, sighting the impending storm. Reluctantly we packed up and headed back to the camper. Well, it was 5ish and suppertime anyway. As we sat down to supper, I saw a very strange cloud formation and ran out into the field next to our camper to get photos. The air was still and warm, not particularly troubling. Our neighbor came out yelling that we are under a tornado warning and get to shelter quickly. The stillness was a disconnect to Carrie's hysteria. Rick then came out and said his cell phone beeped an alert for a tornado warning. By the time I got to the camper everything was swirling and blowing hard. We ran to the cinder block shelter of the bath house. Looking to the south, I saw a column of black-grey clouds just over the tree tops, swirling furiously...a tornado. GADS!!!
Once the wind died down, we returned to the camper to find a 6-8" branch from the maple tree on our campsite, lying twisted and broken exactly between the truck and my car, missing both by mere inches. Catawba Island didn't fair as well. Huge trees were uprooted, some were through roofs and garages. Tree limbs and debris were everywhere. The condo was fine. The aluminum fascia on the north side was peppered a bit from the hail that came with the storm.
Two days later, on July 3rd, the furniture from Basista in Cleveland and Homestead in Mt. Hope, Ohio were delivered. We were once again home! ....it would take a while to acclimate, it was like living in a furniture store, nothing familiar to imprint on.
Submitted by, The Baroness of Thomas Haus, Queen Yours Truly
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
The Catawba Expedition: Phase II; "Fish Camp"
5 March 2012 - 1 May 2012 The Adventures @ "Fish Camp"
"Fish Camp", definition: that little musty, cottage on the banks some body of water, where a gathering of menfolk go for a specified length of time, usually a long weekend or a designated week, to cavort with fishing gear, boats, and a myriad of beverages. Bathing and personal hygiene are usually optional during these sojourns.
March 5th began our official move into the temporary quarters that I "affectionately" tagged as "Fish Camp". Through the maneuverings of the campground manager, Sally, (Tall Timbers, where our camper is permanently stationed) we rented a small two story cottage with an enclosed porch on the grounds of their other facility, Kamp Kozy, in Marblehead, Ohio. The location, directly on Sandusky Bay, with a perfect view of sunrise, was absolutely stunning.
The cottage itself was basic and clean with one bedroom downstairs and an upstairs loft furnished with 4 single beds and 1 full size bed. The giggling granddaughters would commandeer the loft as their personal oasis when they came for overnight visits. The kitchen was another story. There was a distinct odor of mold that hit you in the face every time you entered the front door into the kitchen. Only rudamentary meals were prepared and eaten there. The enclosed front porch held a large picnic table and yup....the washer and dryer! Yessiree, Mama T. did many a load of laundry on that thar front porch!
The campground of Kamp Kozy wasn't officially open during those months, so it was rather deserted. The dogs and I would begin our day early in the morning with our walk as the stunning sunrises presented themselves on the eastern horizon. At the close of the day we would do the same, often witnessing the sunsets over the marsh at the back side of the campround. Elegant Great Egrets (white cranes) as well as stately Blue Herons would regularly frequent the marsh. Over the 2 months there, we came to see a myriad of migrating waterfowl as well. God seemed to give us these little tidbits as consolations it seemed.
The cottage also came with a resident raccoon. A huge fellow who had been living in the attic and decided he wanted to move back in. Every evening he would try to get into the attic by peeling off the aluminum facia. The maintenance men kept setting traps to catch him only to find a mournful local feline instead. They caught a raccon on one occasion, however, I don't think it was the big boy!
The end of March we also witnessed a phenomenon called the "shad dieoff" hundreds of dead fish washed up on the shore and into the marina cove of the campground. The nauseating "perfume" of dead fish assaulted our nostrils for weeks.
1 May finally came and we moved into our beloved camper. It had been "home" on so many family trips. The familiarity was comforting and it didn't stink of fish or mold. Progress!
Submitted by; Die Baroness von Thomas Haus, Empress, Yours Truly!
"Fish Camp", definition: that little musty, cottage on the banks some body of water, where a gathering of menfolk go for a specified length of time, usually a long weekend or a designated week, to cavort with fishing gear, boats, and a myriad of beverages. Bathing and personal hygiene are usually optional during these sojourns.
Ah yes..."Fish Camp" @ Kamp Kozy
March 5th began our official move into the temporary quarters that I "affectionately" tagged as "Fish Camp". Through the maneuverings of the campground manager, Sally, (Tall Timbers, where our camper is permanently stationed) we rented a small two story cottage with an enclosed porch on the grounds of their other facility, Kamp Kozy, in Marblehead, Ohio. The location, directly on Sandusky Bay, with a perfect view of sunrise, was absolutely stunning.
The cottage itself was basic and clean with one bedroom downstairs and an upstairs loft furnished with 4 single beds and 1 full size bed. The giggling granddaughters would commandeer the loft as their personal oasis when they came for overnight visits. The kitchen was another story. There was a distinct odor of mold that hit you in the face every time you entered the front door into the kitchen. Only rudamentary meals were prepared and eaten there. The enclosed front porch held a large picnic table and yup....the washer and dryer! Yessiree, Mama T. did many a load of laundry on that thar front porch!
The campground of Kamp Kozy wasn't officially open during those months, so it was rather deserted. The dogs and I would begin our day early in the morning with our walk as the stunning sunrises presented themselves on the eastern horizon. At the close of the day we would do the same, often witnessing the sunsets over the marsh at the back side of the campround. Elegant Great Egrets (white cranes) as well as stately Blue Herons would regularly frequent the marsh. Over the 2 months there, we came to see a myriad of migrating waterfowl as well. God seemed to give us these little tidbits as consolations it seemed.
Spring Sunset @ "Fish Camp"
The cottage also came with a resident raccoon. A huge fellow who had been living in the attic and decided he wanted to move back in. Every evening he would try to get into the attic by peeling off the aluminum facia. The maintenance men kept setting traps to catch him only to find a mournful local feline instead. They caught a raccon on one occasion, however, I don't think it was the big boy!
The end of March we also witnessed a phenomenon called the "shad dieoff" hundreds of dead fish washed up on the shore and into the marina cove of the campground. The nauseating "perfume" of dead fish assaulted our nostrils for weeks.
1 May finally came and we moved into our beloved camper. It had been "home" on so many family trips. The familiarity was comforting and it didn't stink of fish or mold. Progress!
Submitted by; Die Baroness von Thomas Haus, Empress, Yours Truly!
Friday, September 7, 2012
The Catawba Expedition begins in earnest.
1 January 2012 - 3 April 2012
The last eight months(today being 7 September) congeal into a massive blur. Packing, sorting, saving, discarding began in earnest New Year's Day 2012. One would think that such a task would be relatively easy, albeit time consuming, but easy. That thought is wrong, so very, very wrong! Surprisingly, memories were unearthed with every cabinet, closet, drawer, nook and cranny that was excavated. So many memories of the children growing up on Timothy Lane. Each piece held a snapshot of that time. Multiple pieces formed a moving picture of sorts, much like the templates of a cartoon when placed together create a motion picture.
Some days I would make great progress, then others would be lost in tearful emotion. Visions of our many ventures in homeschooling as well as family trips and events celebrated would emerge. In hindsight, we tried to give our children the foundation of a beautiful childhood, the vision of it, carrying them through the challenges of their individual lives. Timothy Lane will be the vault of those memories forever.
We eventually filled 2 storage units @ Catawba Storage on Muggy Road, with that that we wanted to bring forward into our new life. The rest, from furniture to trinkets was sold @ an estate sale done for us by S. Sterling Estate Sales. The third week of March the sale commenced and everything was summarily dispatched within three days. The house was empty!
March 1st Rick and I began a 30 day novena to St. Joseph with the intention of a smooth transition into our new life as well as the timely sale of Timothy Lane. His image, in a little plastic statue, was buried in the garden by the front door...a Catholic tradition, placing the venture in his hands. The last week of March we enlisted the help of Vicki Sedlak, ReMax Masters Real Estate agency to help us with the sale. The for sale sign went up Holy Thursday. Her caveat was not to expect much with the Easter weekend directly before us. She assured us that the push would begin after Easter. The housing market was very slow with the poor economy, but she was confident the house would sell.
Good Friday she called informing us of a showing to a young couple on Holy Saturday. By Easter Monday we had an offer. By that same night we had a competing offer from a second couple interested in the house. The following day we accepted the first offer. So, thanks to the intervention of St. Joseph, the house sold in 5 days, a few thousand dollars from our asking price to boot. The formal closing, with papers properly signed and transferred was 25 May 2012.
....submitted, by the Baroness von Thomas Haus, Queen Yours Truly!
The last eight months(today being 7 September) congeal into a massive blur. Packing, sorting, saving, discarding began in earnest New Year's Day 2012. One would think that such a task would be relatively easy, albeit time consuming, but easy. That thought is wrong, so very, very wrong! Surprisingly, memories were unearthed with every cabinet, closet, drawer, nook and cranny that was excavated. So many memories of the children growing up on Timothy Lane. Each piece held a snapshot of that time. Multiple pieces formed a moving picture of sorts, much like the templates of a cartoon when placed together create a motion picture.
Some days I would make great progress, then others would be lost in tearful emotion. Visions of our many ventures in homeschooling as well as family trips and events celebrated would emerge. In hindsight, we tried to give our children the foundation of a beautiful childhood, the vision of it, carrying them through the challenges of their individual lives. Timothy Lane will be the vault of those memories forever.
We eventually filled 2 storage units @ Catawba Storage on Muggy Road, with that that we wanted to bring forward into our new life. The rest, from furniture to trinkets was sold @ an estate sale done for us by S. Sterling Estate Sales. The third week of March the sale commenced and everything was summarily dispatched within three days. The house was empty!
March 1st Rick and I began a 30 day novena to St. Joseph with the intention of a smooth transition into our new life as well as the timely sale of Timothy Lane. His image, in a little plastic statue, was buried in the garden by the front door...a Catholic tradition, placing the venture in his hands. The last week of March we enlisted the help of Vicki Sedlak, ReMax Masters Real Estate agency to help us with the sale. The for sale sign went up Holy Thursday. Her caveat was not to expect much with the Easter weekend directly before us. She assured us that the push would begin after Easter. The housing market was very slow with the poor economy, but she was confident the house would sell.
Good Friday she called informing us of a showing to a young couple on Holy Saturday. By Easter Monday we had an offer. By that same night we had a competing offer from a second couple interested in the house. The following day we accepted the first offer. So, thanks to the intervention of St. Joseph, the house sold in 5 days, a few thousand dollars from our asking price to boot. The formal closing, with papers properly signed and transferred was 25 May 2012.
....submitted, by the Baroness von Thomas Haus, Queen Yours Truly!
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Thoughts for the ending and the beginning! 2011 closes and 2012 opens
As we spend our free time going through 23 years of raising a family, homeschooling and just making a life on Timothy Lane, I ponder leaving this place. Is a condominium on Catawba where we will be happy for the next 23 years? At times I have my doubts.
Once in a condo, my grandchildren won't know that I loved to garden. They won't be able to plant, water, weed, harvest, and just enjoy the rhythm of the garden with me.
They won't ever know that I prized my stunning deep red and soft cream colored peonies and relish in their intoxicating fragrance. They won't know that their grandmother stood breathless at the sight of her blue-black iris as it's petals unfolded. They won't know that the two lilacs planted on the west side of the house were my treasures. The full double, light lavender and single, dark lavender heads were picked to make fragrant bouquets on the kitchen table in the Spring.
I will miss all of it. The fresh chives for Sunday brunch scrambled eggs, accompanied by scrumptious pearls of cherry tomatoes. The fresh picked lettuce and spinach for impromptu dinner salads. I'll miss the rhubarb in the Spring, plucked to make rhubarb sauce that tastes oh so yummy over buttery pound cake made from scratch, topped with homemade whipped cream. The little patch of varigated thyme that I use to make homemade tomato soup with will remain here. The lavendar shrub won't be going either. The savory sage, will hopefully flavor the roasts and sauces of the new inhabitants of Timothy Lane.
No longer can I step into the backyard and pick my own "organic" apples and make "Apple Pie Applesauce" or the pears to make "Cinnamon Pears", the cherries to make cherry freezer jam, ... my heart grows heavy with a tinge of mourning at the loss. The paw-paw, peach and plum trees were just beginning to come into their own this summer. They'll be at full tilt in 2012 to be sure.
If I am going to move forward, I need to stop this melancholy wander down Memory Lane. We'll have to find other ways to make gardening memories for ourselves and the grandchildren.
It was a wonderful homestead to raise a family. Most certainly God has a family in mind for the next phase of Timothy Lane. May they be blessed by what we did to transform this empty patch of clay.
Once in a condo, my grandchildren won't know that I loved to garden. They won't be able to plant, water, weed, harvest, and just enjoy the rhythm of the garden with me.
They won't ever know that I prized my stunning deep red and soft cream colored peonies and relish in their intoxicating fragrance. They won't know that their grandmother stood breathless at the sight of her blue-black iris as it's petals unfolded. They won't know that the two lilacs planted on the west side of the house were my treasures. The full double, light lavender and single, dark lavender heads were picked to make fragrant bouquets on the kitchen table in the Spring.
I will miss all of it. The fresh chives for Sunday brunch scrambled eggs, accompanied by scrumptious pearls of cherry tomatoes. The fresh picked lettuce and spinach for impromptu dinner salads. I'll miss the rhubarb in the Spring, plucked to make rhubarb sauce that tastes oh so yummy over buttery pound cake made from scratch, topped with homemade whipped cream. The little patch of varigated thyme that I use to make homemade tomato soup with will remain here. The lavendar shrub won't be going either. The savory sage, will hopefully flavor the roasts and sauces of the new inhabitants of Timothy Lane.
No longer can I step into the backyard and pick my own "organic" apples and make "Apple Pie Applesauce" or the pears to make "Cinnamon Pears", the cherries to make cherry freezer jam, ... my heart grows heavy with a tinge of mourning at the loss. The paw-paw, peach and plum trees were just beginning to come into their own this summer. They'll be at full tilt in 2012 to be sure.
If I am going to move forward, I need to stop this melancholy wander down Memory Lane. We'll have to find other ways to make gardening memories for ourselves and the grandchildren.
It was a wonderful homestead to raise a family. Most certainly God has a family in mind for the next phase of Timothy Lane. May they be blessed by what we did to transform this empty patch of clay.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
"In Search of the Intact Scotch Bonnet"
The Scotch Bonnet
North Carolina's State Shell
In 1965, a shell resembling a traditional Scottish woolen cap or Scotch bonnet, was named the state shell of North Carolina, in part to honor early Scottish settlers.
Scotch bonnet shells wash ashore in abundance on North Carolina's Outer Banks.
They are rare elsewhere in the state.
Where are Scotch bonnets found in North Carolina?
The Gulf Stream moves tropical waters close to the North Carolina coast.
Tropical water mollusks, like the Scotch bonnet, can survive cold winter months in the Gulf Stream.
After storms, hundreds of Scotch bonnets may be washed ashore on the Outer banks especially bewteen Cape Hatteras and Cape Lookout due to the close proximity of the Gulf Stream to that section of the coast.
Life Cycle of the Scotch Bonnet
Female Scotch bonnets lay eggs in the spring.
Shell-less free-swimming larvae or veligers hatch from the eggs.
They drift with the ocean currents.
When they begin to form a shell, they settle to the bottom as crawling mollusks.
Scotch bonnets feed on sand dollars.
Scotch bonnets mature in one to six years.
The juvenile shell has a thin, delicate lip.
Mature shells have a thickened, rolled lip.
When a shell washes ashore, its color fades quickly upon exposure to the elements, especially the sun.
The shell is fragile so a complete specimen is always a prized find.
And finding a complete specimen that retains its color is a special treat, even to the seasoned collector.
* * * * *
* * * * *
FACT: North Carolina was the first state in the USA to name an Official State Shell. This move was initiated by The North Carolina Shell Club.
copied from the http://www.ncshellclub.com/NCStateShell.htm
We have been coming to the Outer Banks, in particular to Hatteras Island, for ten seasons now. Our first year here, I was introduced to the Scotch Bonnet shell and was facinated by the beauty of the intact shells I found @ the gift shop. So thus began my penchant for finding an intact Scotch Bonnet on my many wanderings up and down the beach.
I'm certain there is a metaphor for life here. Someday I may even expound on it.
For now, I'll be content merely in the search. You see I've found many fragments of Scotch Bonnets, from beautiful, charcoal, grey versions to soft, translucent cream colored pieces. I'm not really certain why I am drawn to pursue, what seems to be an impossible task, but I am somehow. The waves relentlessly pounding the Hatteras beaches are probably not conducive to finding an intact shell, but with perseverence and perhaps a bit of luck, I may find one to treasure.
Front of my treasured find, a relatively intact Scotch Bonnet.
The back of it is damaged, but it affords you a view of the intricate spiral inside.
Lovingly submitted, von die Baroness von Thomas Haus, Queen Yours Truly
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Breathing at Hatteras; 7 June 2011
It is a grueling trip...16 hours of almost constant driving, stopping briefly for fuel, a quick meal to eat on the road and bathroom breaks for ourselves and the hounds of Thomas Haus. Yet our spirits revive as our wheels touch the causeway leading to the Outer Banks of North Carolina and the town of Kitty Hawk. Even the dogs, Australian Shepherds, Dash and Dara, sit up and take notice of the smells brought to their noses by the ocean breeze. This, however, is not our destination. We travel another 70 miles down North Carolina highway 12 to the fishing village of Hatteras. We rent a 4 bedroom home named "Dolphins' Reach" for two weeks in the beginning of June. It sits behind a sand dune overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. From the upper third floor deck, just off the kitchen, one can gaze at the beach and the perpetual lapping waves of the Atlantic.
We began our annual treks in 2002. It's hard to believe that we've been making this trip for 10 summers now. Although "Dolphins' Reach" is our current lodging since 2006, other homes were the predecessors...."Patch of Blue" from 2002-2003, "Stargazer" in 2004, "Lighthouse Point" in 2005 in the town of Buxton, NC.
Something transformative and rejuvenative occurs when one finds oneself here. Perhaps it is the getting away that does it. However, we've vacationed elsewhere and the same does not occur...only here in Hatteras. It's as if once again you find yourself breathing, like coming up for air after holding your breath underwater for an extended period of time. Everyone that makes the journey with us over the years has felt the same and long to return here. To date, Rick's brother began coming with us in 2004 and now comes annually, Erin(our daughter) and her two little girls, Madison and Aubrey( who by the way have been coming here as infants), both boys, Ian and Trevor, our niece, Brooke, my sister Ingrid and her husband Bart, have all found themselves under the spell of Hatteras. This year, the boys can't come because of their schedules. They wish to see more of the world and probably won't return to Hatteras until their own wanderlust has been satiated. That's alright, too.
The only requirements, mandated by the house mistress (that would be me, Her Royal Highness, Yours Truly), is that we plan nothing in particular other than meals and the time to head onto the beach. Oh don't get me wrong, we have and will continue to discover the area in and around Hatteras Island, but the main focus is our time together in this place, to revive our spirits in the gentle comfort of family. Lest you think we are always blissful in each others company, worry not, we've shared some certain drama in our time together, but those are best forgotten.
We arrived for this visit this past Sunday, 5 June 2011. I'm planning on taking the time to ponder many things and blogging about them here. May this visit, by the Grace of God, bring us ever closer to one another and leave us refreshed to return to the daily battles back home.
~respectfully submitted; Her Royal Highness, Duchess of Thomas Haus, Queen Yours Truly
We began our annual treks in 2002. It's hard to believe that we've been making this trip for 10 summers now. Although "Dolphins' Reach" is our current lodging since 2006, other homes were the predecessors...."Patch of Blue" from 2002-2003, "Stargazer" in 2004, "Lighthouse Point" in 2005 in the town of Buxton, NC.
Something transformative and rejuvenative occurs when one finds oneself here. Perhaps it is the getting away that does it. However, we've vacationed elsewhere and the same does not occur...only here in Hatteras. It's as if once again you find yourself breathing, like coming up for air after holding your breath underwater for an extended period of time. Everyone that makes the journey with us over the years has felt the same and long to return here. To date, Rick's brother began coming with us in 2004 and now comes annually, Erin(our daughter) and her two little girls, Madison and Aubrey( who by the way have been coming here as infants), both boys, Ian and Trevor, our niece, Brooke, my sister Ingrid and her husband Bart, have all found themselves under the spell of Hatteras. This year, the boys can't come because of their schedules. They wish to see more of the world and probably won't return to Hatteras until their own wanderlust has been satiated. That's alright, too.
The only requirements, mandated by the house mistress (that would be me, Her Royal Highness, Yours Truly), is that we plan nothing in particular other than meals and the time to head onto the beach. Oh don't get me wrong, we have and will continue to discover the area in and around Hatteras Island, but the main focus is our time together in this place, to revive our spirits in the gentle comfort of family. Lest you think we are always blissful in each others company, worry not, we've shared some certain drama in our time together, but those are best forgotten.
We arrived for this visit this past Sunday, 5 June 2011. I'm planning on taking the time to ponder many things and blogging about them here. May this visit, by the Grace of God, bring us ever closer to one another and leave us refreshed to return to the daily battles back home.
~respectfully submitted; Her Royal Highness, Duchess of Thomas Haus, Queen Yours Truly
Sunday, May 29, 2011
A little of this and a little of that!
Joplin, MO was hit last week by a devastating tornado. The pictures of the destruction are equivalent to a nuclear blast. Executive director of Quilts of Compassion, Janice Grimes, has interfaced with the pastoral care department of Freeman Hospital, the only hospital left intact. We are making about 200 quilts for a team from QofC to take there to give prayer-filled comfort and encouragement to those that lost so much. I am currently finishing quilt # 4 of 5 that I have here at home. On Tuesday, I hope to get more kits to complete in time for them to take with them when they leave on Friday, 3 June. Perhaps I'm not an expert quilter, nor exacting, but it's a learned process and I'm certainly further than I was when I walked in to the QofC office equiped with a simple desire to help. I've learned to quilt. It just goes to show you, you can teach an old dog new tricks.
We spent the afternoon today, 29 May, again @ CiC, for the annual, Blessing of the Fleet and Salute to our Armed Services. Ian and his friend, 2nd Lt. Carl Cunnane (Wright-Pattersom AFB, Dayton), did a impressive, ceremonial flag folding, for the event. Service members from all the various branches were honored, both past and present. A handful were in uniform. What a contrast this day was from the Vietnam War era days, when the returning soldiers were humiliated, spit upon and cursed as they disembarked. As a young woman, I would watch in disgust. Those television images have never left me. The media had us believing that that attitude was the majority. Oh the lies and deception then and now.
Random Thought of the Day!
Sometimes the ship of our life is drawing a nice rhythm in the waves and making good time. However, the inevitable storms of life also come. They can toss us about, throwing us completely off course. It is then that we perfect our sailing skills. For a good sailor is never born of calm waters....but in the hurricanes of our life. ~
We spent the afternoon today, 29 May, again @ CiC, for the annual, Blessing of the Fleet and Salute to our Armed Services. Ian and his friend, 2nd Lt. Carl Cunnane (Wright-Pattersom AFB, Dayton), did a impressive, ceremonial flag folding, for the event. Service members from all the various branches were honored, both past and present. A handful were in uniform. What a contrast this day was from the Vietnam War era days, when the returning soldiers were humiliated, spit upon and cursed as they disembarked. As a young woman, I would watch in disgust. Those television images have never left me. The media had us believing that that attitude was the majority. Oh the lies and deception then and now.
Random Thought of the Day!
Sometimes the ship of our life is drawing a nice rhythm in the waves and making good time. However, the inevitable storms of life also come. They can toss us about, throwing us completely off course. It is then that we perfect our sailing skills. For a good sailor is never born of calm waters....but in the hurricanes of our life. ~
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