Sunday, July 21, 2013

I Yam Who I Yam

Tennyson said, "That which we are, we are." Locke said, "Whatsoever is, is." Or, in the immortal words of Popeye the Sailor Man, "I yam what I yam and that's all what I yam."

And yet,  we are capable of change. Change happens every day.  Change is inevitable, unstoppable, the only constant.

Ah, the good ol' yin and yang of existence. I've bumped my head into this ceiling so many times before: immutable nature vs. constant change.  Like light, I function both as a particle and a wave.  I am both matter, subatomic bonds that form, deteriorate, and reform, and energy that cannot be created or destroyed, just changed from one form to another.

If I want to change my life, change is right here, available for the taking. But, change must be reconciled with the essential nature of my being, my immutable self.  So many times I have tried to be something I am not. It never works.

I continually strive to be a better person, but I don't want to be someone I am not.  People give and people take, people come and people go. Through it all, I'll be OK as long as I am who I am. 

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

Colestine Camp Out 2013

What a warm, wonderful camp out we had this year!  Sequoia has been digging at me by saying the camp out was “efficient,” a backhanded compliment if I ever heard one.  I think he is nostalgic for the raucous, chaotic blow outs of our youth, but I couldn't have been happier with how everything turned out.  Our gathering was sweet and easy, warm and loving, welcoming and open-hearted. It felt like family. It was everything I could possibly hope for.

The kids and the dogs certainly had a loud, raucous, chaotic camp out. They had a blast.  So, if we want a wilder party, I say it’s time for the next generation to take over and kick out the jams.  I’m talking about you, Colestin kids. I mean, damn, many of you started visiting while you were still in utero.  This place belongs to you.

Here's the truth: we're getting old. There’s a limit to Sequoia’s superhuman strength. He and I searched for a place like this all through our twenties. Can you imagine what the land would look like now if we had arrived when Sequoia was still in his first flower? Epic.

 As the candles melt into the morning

And the disc golfers young and old fling

The beauties keep getting more beautiful

And the trash just gets more interesting

The artist perfects her eye

Three, count 'em, three barbecues

 Dude, that's sweet!

 Big mama Shasta in the distance

Dutch on the carboy as Junebug listens

 Deep in conversation

 Slip n slide!

 The John Conniff Dead Show, featuring fingers of the 'fist

Danny whuppped Daddy

 A proud moment for young Tyler

Dogboy Disc Golfs!


 Young Love

Some of the Fam-Damily