My current favorite quote is from Cheryl Strayed’s book Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail: “I didn’t know where I was going until I got there.”
I don’t remember where I first read those words, but I immediately thought, “Amen!” I didn’t even know those were her words until I did a quick search on her words. I just got the book on Kindle, so I’ll soon be able to put the quote in context.
I ran across these words as I was approaching retirement. Everyone asked, “So what are you going to do?” I didn’t have much of an answer. I had a lot of things I enjoyed doing, and I would have additional time to do those things. New things? Maybe. But I didn’t know what those things were. But I knew I would discover them some time in the future.
Three years into retirement, I am teaching online and in-person classes. I’ve learned how to operate a 3D printer and an edible ink printer. I have learned a lot of bluegrass guitar tunes. None of those things were on my radar three years ago.
In other words, I had no idea where I was going. But now I do.
While the dogs were delighted, we were horrified when someone opened the gate and two of our three dogs got into the pond.
We usually only have two dogs, but we were also watching my daughter’s older dog. The dog park surrounds a fenced-in pond populated by turtles, snakes, fish, and no doubt a gator or two. A couple of gates provide access, but I’ve never seen a dog in there.
Until that day. A gentleman with an Irish setter and some kind of terrier opened the gate for them, and two of our dogs eagerly followed. My daughter’s dog, an eleven-year old lab mix spotted a tennis ball in the lake, jumped in, and swam to get it. Her hips are a little stiffer, but she could still swim! And then she wanted someone to throw it back in so she could swim some more.
Our Westie is not a swimmer, but ran around the lake, yapping at the swimming dog, turtles, and fish, and lapping at the murky water.
What about our Great Dane? She didn’t get through the gate, but ran around the outside of the fence, woofing at everyone inside.
Once in the pond enclosure, there was no getting them out. In and out of the water and around the lake, they got wet, dirty, and had the time of their lives. A lady grabbed a few dog biscuits from her car, but our dogs weren’t interested.
After about half an hour, I positioned myself on the bank and waited for them to run by. Once they were distracted by water and a ball, I grabbed each by the collar and ended their water play.
The dogs had fun, the van smelled like wet dog for a while, and they all took good naps when we got home.
I’ve heard of geocaching but never thought much about it until Rob Walker mentioned it in The Art of Noticing. Wikipedia’s description says “Participants use a Global Positioning System receiver or mobile device and other navigational techniques to hide and seek containers, called geocaches or caches, at specific locations marked by coordinates all over the world.” The first cache was placed in 2000.
I never thought there would be a cache in my part of the world. But you never know. So I got the free app and learned that there are some caches near my home. Now I’m curious. I’ve got to try this some day.
Today was the day. I was out running errands and decided I would seek out my first cache. According to the little map on the app, it was right outside the library. I pulled into a parking spot and saw that I was seventy-five feet from the geocache.
There is no description of what it looks like. That’s part of the fun. You have to search for it. I walked under a tree at the northeast corner of the library and my phone buzzed. I was at the location.
Was it hanging from a tree? Sticking out of the ground? Was it in an official looking container? I had no idea.
Something red caught my eye. A plastic Folgers coffee container. Probably just some trash. Except on the side someone had written in marker, “This is not trash.” Ah-ha. I’ll bet that’s it. On the other side it said, “This is a geocache.” Found it. I was expecting something official looking. But I guess any container works.
Inside was a ziplock bag containing a small booklet and a pen to record when you found it. I added my user name and the date to the list of those who had found it before me, and put it back in the container. There were also some blue and purple Mardi Gras beads inside. Apparently, some like to leave a little trinket. Next time I’ll bring one of my cool painted rocks.
And that’s it. My first geocache. According to the app map, there are about ten more in town. This one wasn’t too tough. I’ll bet others are more challenging.
My wife and I took our four-year-old grandson to the Jacksonville, Florida zoo today. It was a gorgeous day, with blue skies, in the 70s, nice breeze.
We have a family membership and have been there many times. Last night I predicted how the visit would go.
First, we stop to look at the flamingos and comment on how stinky they are.
As we walk through the African loop, we will look at the warthogs and also comment on how stinky they are.
We will look in vain for the cheetahs, see the ostrich, and then the rhinos.
After a quick pass through the snake house, we will pause to visit the elephants.
From there we’ll pass by the lions.
Next, we’ll go to the giraffe overlook and feed them a few branches.
Doubling back just a little, we’ll look to see how many manatees are in the recovery tank.
Back on the main drag, my grandson will point out the Kona Ice truck, just in case we had forgotten about it.
We’ll swing through the path that takes us by the bonobos and gorillas.
Next is the carousel. We’ll go on several rides with our enhanced experience wristbands.
After lunch, we’ll walk to the far end of the zoo to see the Komodo dragon and the tigers.
The train will take us back to the front of the park, and we’ll cover a cup of Kona Ice with every flavor of syrup.
I was spot on for everything except the dragon and tigers. We decided not to go all the way back there today.
“Well,” you might ask, “was there anything new at the zoo?”
Absolutely. No two trips are alike.
The elephants were standing much closer than they usually do, giving us a great view.
Most of the giraffes were a little standoffish, but one came over and my grandson and I got to feed her. No line at the giraffes, so we had several opportunities each. She was so close we could have reached right out and touched her. But that’s one of the things you cannot do.
One of the lionesses was relaxing in the sun on a huge rock just a few yards from the viewing area. She was beautiful.
One of the rhinos was very close to the raised walkway, too. They are usually all the way across the field from us.
On the way to see the manatees, the bald eagle was on the ground just on the other side of the fence. Probably the closest I’ve ever been to one.
We got to see Kevin, the two-year-old baby gorilla up close against the glass.
All the snakes in the snake house were out and visible. Usually many of them are hiding in the rocks.
So while the day was predictable, it was also an adventure. For me, zoos always are.
This week, I was helping someone with the tech needed in a college classroom. The designated room was equipped with a computer, projector, and screen. The first thing I had to figure out was how to lower the screen.
I thought, “There’s got to be a switch close by, probably on the wall.” Sure enough, I tried one, and the screen lowered into place. We were ready to go.
Some would say, “You just can’t go around pushing buttons. You don’t know what’s going to happen.” I figure there’s only one way to find out what will happen.
Push the button.
I’m a push-the-button kind of person. Flip the switch. Turn the knob. In a moment, you’ll know exactly what it does. If you don’t like what happens, try something else. Type a command. Click and drag. Hit escape. See what happens.
I’m especially intrigued by light switched taped in an on or off position. Tags that say, “Do not remove under penalty of the law.” Signs next to thermostats warning, “Do not adjust.” Labels advising, “No user-serviceable parts inside.”
I do heed a “Warning: High Voltage” sign. And the “do not eat” instruction on that little packet of whatever that comes in just about everything. And I never operate heavy machinery after taking a decongestant.
But everything else is fair game. Like the sign announcing, “Do not enter.” “Authorized Personnel Only.” “Closed.” I’ll try the door. Sometimes, it’s unlocked.
I believe that’s why I’m good at fixing things. I’ll try something until I get the desired result. I do this with computers, phones, the microwave oven, rebooting the wifi, changing the time on the car clock, the church sound board, getting something to print, or setting up a university classroom. I push the button.
I’m amazed to learn that not everyone is like this. Some are afraid to touch anything. What if it breaks? What if I get caught? What if I shut down the power grid to the entire east coast of the United States?
I say, “Relax.” You can always reboot. Power down and restart. You can undo what you’ve done. You can try something else. You can give up and get a snack. You can say, “I didn’t know.” Or, “I didn’t do it.” You can try again tomorrow.
Waite for it... 