February 2011 - Where Did It Go

A month of extremes in every way, February saw snow to 70 degree weather, boxing with Miss T, boxing with friends, hikes to waterfalls and historical tours (Downtown Charlotte, Junior's Castle, friends hurt, friends reconnected.

The Bunker Hill Covered Bridge is the only remaining example in wood of the Improved Lattice Truss patented by General Herman Haupt.
Drive through the Smokey Mountain Park where the mountains really do look smokey.
Boxing trips following odd clues, to odd places, looking for odd boxes.
Passed find 1000 milestone.
Cemetery stones telling a man's entire history on one stone and where only in recent history has the fence been taken down between the black and the white cemeteries.
Discovery centers and libraries where a child could explore and be entertained for hours.

For additional fun I've taken on a 365 project of posting a photo a day for a year. Some days it is rather tedious to come up with one, others bring enough to last a week or more. Feel free to browse and book mark the page.

I read this back and it feels rather unexciting in text, but it February has been an adventure. Miss T and I spend as many days outside as we can, walking and enjoying all that is new and fresh for us in this new territory.

When not roaming the trails, I have finally dug out the family history project. Since our ancestors settled Virginia and North Carolina in the 16 and 1700s, it seems wise to take advantage of being able to do hands on research. I expect when warmer weather hits some library time will be in order. On my bucket list is to have at least what I have already researched in print form.

And finally friends, if you can't say something nice about one of our common friends, please say nothing. Words, once released can't be taken back; they continue to flow from ear to ear impacting the hearer and the subject. More than once since arriving in the east my ears have been bombarded with he said/she said, he did/she did. Roaming the trails with Miss T purges some of the poison, but like any disease or injury, there always remains a trace, a scar.

Words scar, maim, kill. In ignorance or malice, we treat words frivolously in spite of the power they wield. Whether the grade school classroom, over the back fence, or around the office cooler, words fly around our head nearly with no end. A word picture illustrates the lasting damage. Take a piece of fine grade paper. Wad it up, stomp on it, allow it to be trampled by man, beast and vehicle. Carefully open it, smooth it; piece together the ragged edges. Work with all your strength and heart and mind, but you will never be able to restore that particular piece of fine paper back to its original state or potential; forever the scars will remain. Words have power, whether they be read or heard. Words have the power to kill and to heal. Words have the power to change the direction of life.