My old friend Robert stopped by yesterday. He has just finished writing a book and wanted me to have a copy of the rough draft. I haven’t begun to read it yet as I will have to print it out, but I am looking forward to the opportunity.

Robert has just recently started reading my blog wanderings and made an interesting comment during his visit. Having read some of my musings about my life in Ashe County in the early 80’s, his comment was that it seemed I had “Idealized” that time. Leave it to a good friend to let you know what is really happening.

However, his observation left room for the fact that this might be a poetic vehicle that enables me to begin the life/exploration process and therefore I might not be stuck somewhere I don’t really want to be.

Let’s get that one out of the way: life is so much better today than my memory of those simple times in the wilderness of Ashe County, North Carolina. Yet at the same time, they were very special times—a period of young love, becoming a Christian, Sandi having babies and all the other adventures associated with that life process.

I think my friends’ point is this: don’t hold up the past—which we tend to see with rose colored glasses—and fail to see what is happening around us today.

Our kids are mostly grown up—I am blogging and learning to do internet stuff—he’s writing a book.

Sandi and I are beginning to feel ourselves again—having left a church that we attended for 22 years. I take that back— we are beginning to feel that our lives really do mean something in the overall sceme of things.

Sandi and I had dinner with some other friends that we haven’t socialized with (house to house) for about ten years. They were a couple that we were especially close to. When they left the churh we had attended for years together, something happened to our relationship which none of us liked but seemingly were powerless to overcome at that time.

That’s another story and one that is being worked out in the heavenly realms that we inhabit. Suffice it to say, our dinner was wonderful—it was almost as if we hadn’t missed a beat—although ten years had passed in the meantime.

Yes…we talked about the past—just a little bit—that part is almost unavoidable. But more so we talked about today and tomorrow. Parts of our journey have been similar and could have been written by any of us. Other parts are unique and only similar in the fact that we have had kids and jobs and up and downs.

And I guess that is where I am going with today’s journal—trying to get to the point where I once again find the poetry in what is happening around me and what hasn’t even taken place yet. That we have a future—no matter how long—is a reality that needs to be embraced. We cannnot live on yesterday’s manna—on yesterday’s revelation—but must endevour to gather fresh bread from God’s breadbasket.

As Sandi and I left the town where my mom lives—which we visited a week ago—we stopped at an Italian bakery that was about 40 years old. It was Sunday and they opened for business at 9:30 am. There was one guy ahead of us and he knew what he wanted and was instructing the guy behind the counter how to package it and so forth. Once he was taken care of—it was our turn. While we ordered, about ten different people entered the bakery to buy whatever it was they bought. These were people who visited this place every week—it was a part of their routine.

We bought some danish and a big loaf of bread and went our way—headed back to Boone, North Carolina. We arrived home at about 6 or 7 that evening and one of the first things I did was open the loaf of bread and get out the electric knife and cut us some pieces to eat. We warmed up the butter and spread some over the doughy surface and ate. At that first bite I wished I had bought 2 or 3 loaves. It was that good.

There is a bakery out there for each of us if we take the time to look—keeping our eyes and ears open to the possibilities that arrive with each new day.

Here’s to good eating. Enjoy your ride!