Busy as a Bee

Life on the road is busy, busy, busy, despite my assumptions to the contrary. I thought I would have plenty of time to write, to paint, to do whatever my heart desired.

(Hey! We finally spotted another Firan Raven. This one’s a 1995. Ours is a 1996.)

Well, maybe life wouldn’t be so busy, if I hadn’t suddenly developed a gregarious attitude/outlook on life. There are so many interesting people out there, and I want to hear all of their stories. I crave the laughter and sharing that happens amongst family, friends, and new acquaintances alike. I cherish each touch, each word, each gesture given or spoken with compassion of heart and honesty of soul.

Among the full-timer set, I thought I might not fit in. I’m considerably younger than most. Though many are more spry than I, in body.

Even so, there’s a unity, a bond, a special cohesiveness, within this ever-changing body of elders with whom I spend my days—and they accept me as one of them. One leaves, another picks up right where they left off. Conversations and laughter ebb and flow with the comings and goings of old and new friends.

We have all chosen this life, though our reasons may be as varied as our personalities.

Ken and I have chosen this life, and I love it. I am grateful to my husband, for without him, I could not have all these new adventures.

Thank you, Lord, for placing Ken in my life and placing us on this path, this journey of a lifetime. Amen.

Love and blessings,

Jenni

Newport, Old and New

It is a very sad thing, indeed, to drive down the main strip through a town you’ve been visiting for many years, only to find more than the usual or acceptable number of closed businesses. It is far sadder, still, when the majority of those businesses have been there for decades and were “mom and pop” establishments. The heart and soul of Small Town America is quickly dying away.
Say hello to Wal-Mart. Staples. Dollar Tree. McDonalds and Burger King.
Say goodbye to the fun little trinket shops. Oddities and knick-knacks one could only find in those unique little stores that are now fading away. Handcrafted souvenirs made by the locals.
Say hello to mass-market junk. Say hello to products, where cheap not only means the price but the poor quality.
Say goodbye to America as it used to be.
I mourn the loss of Small Town America. I mourn the loss of freedom, for America is no longer free, if we continue to sell ourselves out for the lowest priced junk (all made out of the country and taking our jobs away). Our jobs disappear with every foreign made product we purchase. We make the decisions whether our brother will keep his job, whether our sister will be able to find a job. Is your best friend’s livelihood worth you saving a dollar, or even a dime by buying products made elsewhere?
I commend Newport, however, for fighting for their economic future. I commend them for bidding on and winning the right to have NOAA dock here. NOAA’s presence brings people, jobs, and money to a struggling local economy. NOAA’s presence brings Newport national and world notoriety.
I do not commend them, however, on what the locals call Mount NOAA, a large pile of silt that was dredged up in order to make way for their vessel to enter the harbor. It is unsightly and, according to one local, a bureaucratic nightmare.
I chatted with a few of the nonhuman locals today, too. What a raucous crew aboard that little floating dock. It seems they don’t like it when their little world gets out of balance, either.