It’s not hard. Just one piece! Well, today I picked up several pieces of glass I found along my running trail on the eastern edge of Petaluma, but the point is, just a little bit at a time will make a big difference.
Every little bit helps. So when you’re out for a walk or going to the store, pick up that wrapper that someone neglected to throw in the garbage can, or the empty bag of chips floating across the soccer field. I guarantee a trash can is on your way to wherever you’re going, or at least nearby, and you can always wash your hands!
So I challenge you all to take that extra 10 seconds to pick up one piece of trash a day. You’ll feel great about yourself for doing it!
I recently chatted with a friend about Morro Bay. He and his wife were there for a week last month, and it made me think back to our trip down last Thanksgiving. Jake and I went through Morro Bay on our way to Avila Beach, and it really was beautiful.
After parking near Morro Rock, we started walking along the beach. In the midst of the rocks and small waves inching up the sand, we saw a flock of seagulls dancing around. This particular bird didn’t seem to mind my presence, so naturally, I snapped a few shots.
I meant to post this yesterday, but here you go. It’s from a visit to Portland earlier this year. The storm clouds were coming in, and the view from our room was spectacular.
Riff, ram, bah, zoo….
Happy Birthday to YOU!!
What a handsome birthday boy!
On this glorious day, many MANY years ago, Mr. T was brought into the world. Now today, with almost all of his girls in town, we get to celebrate him getting older and wiser.
Happy Birthday Pud. We love you!
Yesterday I retired. In 1972 I graduated from UMKC Law School and passed the Bar. 41 years later, I am retiring from the Bench. It has been great. Not always easy, but rich with memories and friendships.
Today, I continued my life with no orders to write, no trials and no probationers. I had no need to get ready to work or to do–well–anything. It felt strange, but in the way that you like to feel at the beginning of any adventure.
I can tell you my priorities for the next two weeks: visits with friends and family, work in the yard, non-profit commitments. But for the first time in four decades, I cannot tell you my long-term plan for the future. It is thrilling, really. Do I want to write, or take photographs? Do I want to travel, or save the world? How do I decide, after all these years, what will most give my life meaning? It is a gift I give myself to figure it out.
I can compile my own bucket list! I have all the time left to me to figure it out.