Sewing seeds {of thought}

I found this old seeds bag at The Rose flea market in Rogers last week when Macauley and I went down for a quick visit.  Lane was in town working, so we got to see her (and do some preliminary wedding talk--they've set the date for 18 May 2013).  My mom was able to get away from camp for a bit to do a little shopping, and we found a few things, including an old picnic basket I really like, some wood bead necklaces like I'd been wanting, and a antiquish looking cow shaker I needed for some reason.  I was thinking I would wash the bag and then stuff it somehow to make a pillow.  Either use stuffing and sew up the end, or maybe just slide a pillow insert in and tuck some velcro in the flap or even leave it open.  It's about as long as a bed pillow but not quite as wide.  I think it will be perfect out on my porch swing.

As I spent some time after dinner this evening gathering cards to send to the fathers in my family and in Ryan's before Sunday, seeds of a conversation between the elder President Bush and his granddaughter Jenna on the news today ran through my mind...Ryan's grandfather Charles reminds me of the Bush men in several ways, and he and his wife Jinx even hosted Bush, Sr. in their home years ago when he visited SBU in Bolivar.  There are pictures of them framed in the sunken den in Charles' house.  The references to Bush skydiving at 85 reminded me of Ryan's granddaddy Earl, who is so vital and active even as he approaches 90.  The clips of Bush's service in WW2 made me of think, of course, of my gentle Grandpa Jude and my Papaw I miss so much.  So much.  Did I send him enough Father's Day cards when he was still here?  I just don't know...Jenna teared up when her grandpa read from a letter he'd written, and when his voice cracks, too...I'll remember what he said and think of the conversations I've had (and wish I could have) with the wise fathers in my life...

As the summers finish out, and the seas get a little higher, winds a little colder, I'll be making some notes, writing it down lest I forget so I can add to the report on getting older. Who knows, maybe they will come out with a new drug that makes legs bend easier, joints hurt less, drives go farther, memory come roaring back and all fears about falling off fishing rafts go away. Remember the old song, 'I'll be there ready when you are'? Well, I'll be there, ready when you are, because there's so much excitement ahead, so many grandkids to watch grow. If you need me, I'm here. Devotedly, Dad.