Saturday, January 21, 2017

Day 55 CHSM plus part 6 of 6 "Mountain Stirrings"



Day 55

 

Jogging on the levee with Dad running

behind the car as Mom, Beth and Becky

drove, blowing the horn every ¼  mile

 

Yeah, there came a time when I needed to slim down---somewhat! It happens.

In spite of being quite active with horses and sports, swimming, farm work and my remodeling and construction projects, along with a “day job” that seemed to run 24/7 including weekends and holidays, I managed to pack on a “few” un-needed pounds. But, to my credit, over the collective decades I have probably lost an aggregate total of around 720 pounds; to my detriment, I have managed to gain back about 750 of that determined loss. But, good ole Mother Nature has a way of leveling everything out, in the end; a little heart ailment beginning in earnest at age 60 demanding five Barnes Hospital visits (and, stays) in one year and a full decade of some aggravating “troubles, snares and trials” to confound my “leisure” days, I seem to have settled in around the 165 mark; all of it lean, mean muscle (at least, between my ears!).

Back-in-the-day, as the modern-techno-“hip” generation likes to say, I dieted, jogged, starved, strained and sweated my way to “thin” only to eventually relent to my old habits and regain the “loss”, usually with some added “comfort”. C’est la vie! Mon Amie!   Oh! Well!

I am not the “gluttonous”-type eater; I am a “grazer”, but, I tend to graze all day long!

Medical issues preclude sweets, now; before that dreaded diagnosis, I didn’t even like sugar treats. Surely, I drank my share of Coke over ice (’Mm ’Mm Good!). Now I defer to Diet Coke.

So? To the subject of this “memory”: A co-worker who had about ten years on me, chronologically, and about fifty pounds on me, by the “scale”, went on a starvation diet and took up jogging; in about six months he slimmed down to his U.S. Marine Corps weight, looking trim and fit. I caught the bug and took on another “diet” attempt and started jogging.

We lived on a bluff overlooking the Mississippi River with an astounding view to die for; I still miss those awesome sunsets firing the western horizon with a grandeur palette. Spectacular!

Beyond our abode and below the limestone cliffs ran a creek encased by earthen levees which served as a venue for our monthly “full moon equine trail rides” which we hosted quite often.

Those levee roads also offered a place for me to jog as I endeavored to re-capture my youthful sculpted body from too many years hence. We would “drive” down to the levee (Well! It was about a mile to get there by road) and I would exit the chariot; Candy would drive ahead of me as I jogged behind in an effort to trek one mile. The girls cheered me on through the rear window as Nanny blew the horn every 1/4 mile to measure my progress.

That little escapade actually lasted a couple of tedious months before I gave it up.

Yeah! I lost some inches and looked fairly “Good”, but, reason won out and I quit torturing my poor old body! Soon enough, I gained back those inches who brought along some relatives!

Certainly, I am not so old as to fail to still “enjoy” a youthful body---spied several lithe female sculpted-tan supple specimens…at the pool just the other day! Hell! I’m old, not dead!

Ah! Sweet youth! Seems quite the un-intended purposeful waste of good ole Mother Nature to endow youthful beauty and passion---on the…“young”! Damn the luck!

Still (words of wisdom from an old man)---Hope!...springs eternal!

Amen!

 

Ah! “Shapely” Cookie Jar Sweet Memories!
 
 
Plus: Part 6 of 6 "Mountain Stirrings"
from Station Master book (Amazon books)
 
 
 
 
 Plus: Part 6 of 6 "Mountain Stirrings"
 
 
 
 
 
Civilization might, and, does, impose its “higher” order upon the culture in the name of “progress” toward the determination of “Good” for the collective society; yet, that march to “Nirvana” prescribed by the “Royal-Elite”, so christened by status, money, power, comes at a very steep detrimental consequence to the envied spirit of free man. Wild things cannot be naturally tethered to a formal garden; such are out of place, save for the errant beauty of a colorful volunteer wild flower which the prudent gardener erroneously decides is an unwanted weed and quickly removes the blessing. A bound spirit withers and eventually dies when it is deprived of its destiny: To soar among the eagles above the peaks where untamed swirling winds of time and space develop them. And, for the very few, these rebel, rascal, rogues are all too willing to challenge the accepted, the tried, the true. Just, “what if?” the “genius” is wrong, once again? Does blind acceptance of “any” lie validate the transgression as---Truth!?
A poet once declared of flight that man has “slipped the surly bonds of earth…” Who might have dared imagine, or propose, that lowly man could escape the binding tethers barring him from soaring where his feathered friends dared go? The “elite” had that one right: If God wanted man to fly, He’d have given him wings! Wow! Such arrogance! Idiocy! Erudite sophistication!
Dare challenge---All! Beliefs: religion, motivation, love; most of all: Thyself!
In the end, materialism is a demon-vacant lie! Un-truth can never prevail!
Revelation ascribes the tale: In the end, the Good guys win! Amen!
Late April of any year found that rebel, rascal, rogue prostrate on his back lying in a verdant green of spring red clover delight, peering heavenward to view a Red Tail hawk riding the currents generated by the sheer abrupt rise of three hundred foot limestone bluffs rising from the river bottom while his counterparts labored diligently behind cubicle desks completing projects and pouring out “special” reports mostly obsolete upon their final revision; they, of course, and, of consequence, climbed the corporate ladder rungs to reach obsolescent retirement, sometimes. Our vagrant hunted wild Morel mushrooms and fished the deep secret pools of the lake for hybrid Red Ear and wondered at the Red Tail independent hawk-flight; offers for promotion poured in to him, also, but, he chose to be too busy!? And, in truth, was---with…life!
Such irreverent reply stating humble blatant reverence for importance: Live! Laugh! Love!
The “Then” is history; the “next” may never come; “Now!” Lives eternally present. Enjoy!
Challenge brave the steep summit reach; observe the eagle from above upon yon Unicorn!
Taste that special Freedom which life affords through Liberty. Dare savor sweet such delicious ecstasy where freely thee dares lick honey-sugar fantasy simply humbled with exotic pleasure through sacred premises necessitating one proper conclusion---Love!
Please! For thou own sake: Don’t miss any instant of life’s offered pleasure!       
 
Amen? Amen! And, again---Amen!
 
 

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