Simple Pleasure: Baseball

Nothing says Spring is here like a snowstorm on March 30th watching some baseball.  And there's no place better to take in a game than the Deltaville Ballpark.

The ballpark is a throw back to simpler times. 

The seats are wide wooden boards, the wire that protects the spectators is crabpot wire (won't see that at a professional ballpark) and if you return a foul ball to the concession stand you get 50 cents.

Other reasons to watch a game:

*The hot players (according to Big Sis, OK and me, and, well, CBW too)

*a hot dog, soda and chips costs around $5- try buying a soda for $5 at Camden Yards

*No one is taking steroids, lying about steroids, unknowingly being given steroids... you get the idea.

*It's like going back to the 40's and 50's- a real piece of small town American history.

*the hot players (oh, already said that)

For historical information on the ballpark and The Deltas, check out the post I wrote about them.

The Deltaville Deltas Blog Post

The Deltaville Deltas Official Page

Monday Meditation

Burdens are the foundations of ease and bitter things the forerunners of pleasure.

 ~Rumi

This one I struggle with, but in lieu of this week's line up of events, it's a good one to think about.

Monday Meditation

"Forgiveness is not the misguided act of condoning irresponsible, hurtful behavior. Nor is it a superficial turning of the other cheek that leaves us feeling victimized and martyred. Rather it is the finishing of old business that allows us to experience the present, free of contamination from the past."

~ Joan Borysenko

Golf Carts

Everyone is complaining about the youth of today.  They're lazy, they expect to get things with little to no work, and they have a sense of entitlement.  I think I have discovered the reason why: Golf Carts.

When I was a kid, I walked everywhere I needed to go.  Sometimes there would be enough room in the truck to bring my bike on vacation, and then I got to ride my bike everywhere.  Either way, I got where I was going by my own power.  Want to go up to the playground at the community center and play basketball or tennis? You walked and you had to actually carry your basketball/tennis racket/sports equipment.  You didn't ride on a golf cart equipped with a basket that held all your various sporting needs.  And don't even get me started on the point that 12 year olds aren't allowed to get driver's licenses for a very good reason.  So don't let them travel on a road in a golf cart.
And while I understand the idea of the elderly driving a golf cart to get around because they aren't able to drive a car anymore, I also question the good sense in letting someone who can't drive a car on a road, drive a golf cart where pedestrians walk. 
Then again, I've started saying things like "I'm watching my sodium intake" and once you start saying that and complaining about the youth of today, well, might as well get on the waiting list at your local nursing home and go buy some Geritol.

And, no, my children are not impervious to the pull of golf carts. After seeing one for sale, The Brat Child (at the prompting of Big Sis) said, "Hey, Mom, let's get that wittle car!"  I of course responded with every parent's standby, "Are your legs broken?"  This caused him to fall quiet in contemplation.
Later that afternoon, I suggested we all take a walk.  The Brat Child looked at me and said matter-of-factly, "No, Mom, my eggs is broken."
Sometimes I beat my head against the wall and wish I didn't have such a smart 4 year old get frustrated.

Monday Meditation

                                 But learn                                 

this custom

from the flower:

silence

your tongue.

~Rumi

Monday Meditation

I'm switching gears and trying something different.  While I was contemplating what I should blog about this week (and coming up completely short on anything humorous), I thought I should try to do a themed day sort of post... Something with a title that shows my prowess for alliteration. 

So I thought of things like "Monday Moan" "Monday Melancholy" "Monday Mayhem" and realized I was having issues coming up with anything positve that has to do with a Monday.  I honestly can't say if it had to do with the particular day of the week or my current mood, either way, I wasn't pleased with it.  So, finally, I opted for Monday Meditation. 

Every Monday I will try to come up with some type of quote or saying or something that will possibly induce a little more positive minded thought (and I promise in the future there won't be as much babbling).  So, for my very first Monday Meditation, I picked a quote from one of my favorites:

Do not grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form.

                                                                         ~Rumi

Reminds me that while things might seem bad and impossible, eventually whatever you've lost: your car keys, a person, friendship, love...

you'll find again.

The Dream

You may arrive here expecting me to wax poetic about my goals and aspirations.  You'd be disappointed.  Today's blog entry is simply a recounting of an odd dream I recently had starring myself and fellow blogger and friend Chesapeake Bay Woman.  I opted to illustrate the story of my odd dream in a similar fashion as one of my other favorite blogs Hyperbole and a Half.  Let the story begin....

One day, Chesapeake Bay Woman (CBW) and I were hanging out on a floating dock.

(no, I don't know why and I'm not sure how we got on it or what specific body of water we were floating on, but I'm certain it was somewhere in the Deltaville/Mathews area)

We were wearing some of our favorite accessories and holding hands. 

(for those who are unsure, CBW is the blonde in the crab hat)

Suddenly, Danger appeared!

Hundreds of Mean Bloodthirsty Sharks surrounded our floating dock. 

How would we ever make it to shore?!

As we were trying to determine how to escape to safety, several crab pots floated to the surface (yes, I know crab pots don't float but apparently my subconscious doesn't know that). 

The crab pots were full of Mean Angry Crabs trying to pinch us. 

We were worried.

Then we had an idea!

We could leap from crab pot to crab pot and get to the shore.

(please note: we are pointing our index fingers in an "ah-ha" sort of way NOT flipping people off.  On second thought, I guess it depends on who is reading this.)

So we did.

(Does anyone else think CBW's crab hat looks like a helmet here? Does anyone else become overcome by laughter at the thought of a crab hat helmet?)

It was around this time during the night that the Brat Child came into my room and woke me up subsequently ending my dream- before I knew the ending. 

Did we get eaten by the sharks? Did we make it to shore?

I'm saying that we did make it back to shore and drank a lot of wine once we got there.

I wonder what my next odd dream will be about.....

And yes, it's true- Not all my puppies is barkin'

*No crabs, sharks or killer geese were harmed in the making of this blogpost. 

Shanty Boats

Songs were always a prominent part of spending time out on Pepop's boat.  The following is a song that I learned at a young age and was one that was sung most often:

A man was in a shanty boat
Some fish came swimming by
a great big catfish came along
and spit* right in his eye
let it rain
let it pour
nothing bothers me
as long as there's a man in a shanty boat
with a banjo on my knee...

*sometimes we sang the word spit, sometimes we pretended to spit and made a weird spitting noise and most times sometimes we actually did spit because after all, spitting is completely appropriate when done in the course of honoring the arts.

So..... what the heck is a shanty boat? (I didn't know either until I saw a display at the River Museum in Point Pleasant, WV while attending the Mothman Festival.)

These are photos of shanty boats.

According to the website ShantyBoat Living a shanty boat is, "small crudely built dwelling or shelter usually of wood. But I think a shanty boat implies simple, functional, slower paced life on the river. It also implies a vessel that you build yourself. It doesn't have to mean junky, but it does imply individuality, with an air of simplicity in the romantic sense."

This definition brings to mind the 500 pound large raft I built in my backyard when I was 10 and in love with Huckleberry Finn.  I'm certain it would  I think it might have floated though it went untested since I lived in the suburbs of Baltimore and didn't have so much as a stream within 300 yards.  Sadly, my dad dismantled my raft and took it to the dump. 

I'm drawing up plans for my very own shanty boat, and I'm going to spend my time living on the waters around Deltaville and Mathews.