Once Upon A Time…

    Once upon a time, in a land not very far away there was a small town, nestled in brown rolling hills and oak trees, inhabited with mostly happy people who got along with each other and with neighboring cities.  Gardens were planted, golf was played, churches attended, businesses thrived, and many a feast was eaten; that is until the day of the great let down.  On that day the banks, money changers, manipulators, and Federal Regulators let everyone down: and so the Great Recession began.  Every town had lived through recessions in the past, but nothing had been seen in decades like the Great Recession.  Where once flowers had grown on the land between the lanes of traffic now stood people with cardboard signs asking for work or food.  Stores, restaurants and shops all over the land closed their doors, leaving many people without a way to care for their family.  When people could not pay their mortgage, the same banks from the great let down threw the people to the street.  Families cried, asking their leaders for help. 

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The Mighty Grape

There is a point on the two lane highway as you enter the Napa Valley where the horizon is filled with vineyards that stretch outward across the valley floor and then sweep upward as high as the hills will allow.   The only break in the perfectly aligned rows is an occasional family home, almost always two story and white, with a wide porch encircling the house, or clump of oaks majestically watching over the vines.  During summer the view becomes a sea of green, balanced by the alternating red lines of soil; but as autumn arrives a mosaic of red, yellow, and orange attack your senses in a vibrant mosaic of nature.  I see a small sign placed at the entrance to a dirt road leading to the white house that reads, “Drive slow – grapes at play.”  I think there is more truth to the sign than we know.

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she is more…A Mother’s Day Story

“Mom, where are my blue socks with the little pink hearts?” shouted Kallie from her upstairs room. 

Lynn (Mom) walked from the kitchen, where she was making breakfast, to the landing midway up the stairs, “They are in your top drawer on the right side, with all your other socks -same place that they have been for the last four years; and remember the rule of not shouting in the house?”

“Yes Mom, thank you.”  ‘You’ was drawn out in typical adolescence overkill.  Kallie was the middle child in this busy household.

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