Backpacking slice of life

From a carefully-handwritten paper that fell out of something in the closet:

After hiking 7-1/2 miles (5-1/2 of which were steady, foot-jarring downhill) we reached our final destination in time for lunch. The Davenport Gap Shelter was a very nice place with a good spring just down a short, steep hill. When we first got to the shelter we put up a clothesline in front of the fire to dry out an odd assortment of muddy, corroded socks, and everyone set their boots around the fire. As we sat around, eating Spam Spread on Bolton's Biscuits and watching Sparky scientifically "cook" the boots, all we lacked was a huge sign, "Clorox needed HERE."

That afternoon, out of pure meanness, we decided to test Sparky's Houdini powers again and locked her out of the shelter. Needless to say, she got in anyway.

That night, two brothers stayed in the shelter. Their father was the ranger at Davenport Gap, and they were startin gup the way we had just come.

We sat around our campfire and talked, sang, and played games. We didn't do anything remarkable, but stayed up pretty late.

When we got up the next mornign we fixed pancakes.

"Sparky" was Mary Greenwell, our CIT (counselor-in-training) counselor at Girl Scout Camp Shantituck, and the date was most likely the summer of 1969 or 1970.

Home for the holidays 11PM

Springerles

Old-school IFR

IFR Magazine has an interview with pilots from WWII and thereabouts.

Knitted mouse ornaments

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RFqT3GcLdg8

pax,
Maggie

http://randomlight.blogspot.com

"The difference between one and more than one is all the difference in
the world. Indeed, it is the world." --LeGuin

Wilma, by Amy Sept. 1994

Amy wrote...

Wilma..... It doesn't sound like a very exciting name, does it? Wilma sounds like the name of a forty-six year- old old-maid who files papers at an office all day and the rest of her life revolves around her gold-fish named "Henry." Let me tell you about the Wilma I know. The Wilma I know doesn't work at an office and she doesn't have any fish. She has a dog.

Wilma was the 2nd "adult" to ever tell me a dirty joke. She treats me and almost everyone else with respect. She is very frank, and says what she thinks. She tells hilarious jokes about Baptists and other various "heathens" and evil-doers that I am ashamed to laugh at, but always do.

Wilma is also a devout Catholic. She goes to St. Benedict Church, and brings at least two kids from her neighborhood every Sunday. They sit in the pews with her and watch the priest intently while vigorously chewing the half-piece of gum given to each beforehand. Wilma shows them where the appropriate prayers are in the missalette, and prompts them when they lab behind in singing. They have a ball.

In Wilma's 74 years on this earth, she has done more things, and met more interesting people than anyone else I know. When I cleaned her house on Monday afternoons two years ago, she would tell me about her life.I spent more time talking and eating then cleaning. Often,I would stand in one place with my hand on the vacuum cleaner "on" button for ten minutes, waiting for her to quit talking. She would talk and talk, and sometimes it seemed like I couldn't get a single word in. I would just nod my head, laugh, or whatever else was appropriate.

I learned about her deceased husband, Bill, her brother, her mother and her father. Mostly I heard about her days "selling Avons," raising kids (hers and the rest of the neighborhood), and raising dogs. She has witnessed World Wars, and has told me more about both of them than I could ever learn from the history books at school.

This fall, Wilma and I got the opportunity to ride in a local parade with Dan Kelly, a state senator. She met him the night before at a senior citizen dinner, and he jokingly asked her to drive his convertible. But the next morning, when she passed him in the school parking lot where the parade was starting, he told her that he desperately needed a driver. When I saw her in the driver's seat of that awesome red convertible, I went over to her and asked how she got to drive. She said, "I'm famous, didn't you know?" I jokingly replied, "Oh yeah, I forgot." Wilma had seen me in the paper a few days ago, and she told me I was famous too, so I might as well join them. I gladly accepted, and, as always, us two kids had a great time.

I will always admire Wilma for her individuality and her free will. I also admire her for her life-style. At an age when most elderly people give up and quit living, Wilma is kind of like the Energizer Bunny--she keeps going, and going, and going...

TYWKIWDBI: Jon Stewart outs Glenn Beck's financial motives

This clip only takes a minute to watch.   :)

http://tywkiwdbi.blogspot.com/2009/12/jon-stewart-out-glenn-becks.html

Laura Wider Op pictures

AOPA Engine & Propeller course

Patty Shuffett Ayers

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> Patty was our friend, Beth and Amy's babysitter. What a sweetheart!
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