Tag Archives: achievement

Rachel’s Right–Again!

Instead of counting minutes, maybe count priorities.

Being in Lancaster County always feels a bit like being home again. We made this year’s visit towards the end of Road Trip 2024 somewhat intentionally to aid us in the “re-entry” to life as we usually practice it.

This sign on a Pennsylvania Bank serves as a reminder that we’re in Amish Country. Maybe I should have brought “my” oxen! (Yes, I’ve seen buggies at the drive-up window.)

One of our first stops was to see our young Amish friends Katie, Hanna Rose, and Rachel. All three are wise beyond their years, and their years are increasing. I was especially curious to talk with Rachel. We had a shared interest in teaching–what fun it was to compare notes! But last year we learned that she’d stopped teaching–Katie spilled the beans, explaining, “She’s in a relationship.”

After some friendly teasing, Rachel explained that it’s possible to have too many priorities and that, while she enjoyed teaching, her relationship and future family would be her focus. (Read last year’s story here.

When we arrived this year, one of the young boys was sent to get her—she was helping her mother make and can ketchup. After a few preliminaries, I was not surprised to learn that she’s getting married on October 29th. She was glowing, and it was not just from the hot work of washing dishes.

Most conversations with the Amish I find are very mutual. She seemed equally interested in what I was doing and planning. At one point, I reminded her of our age difference and said, “I’m told that at my age, the two most important words are ‘comfort’ and ‘fun.'” She interrupted.

“And peace,” she said. “Don’t forget peace.”

The interruption surprised me, but the suggestion didn’t. Making peace a priority makes sense at any age. It’s one reason I try to keep my worry box small, so there’s not a lot of room for things to worry about. The peaceful pace is one thing that attracts me to the Amish. Rachel isn’t the only one who counts priorities instead of minutes and hours.

Sure, it’s possible to have too many priorities. But it’s also possible not to have enough or to miss an important one. It almost goes without saying that we should constantly check our priorities against our values. When I talked with my new Amish friend Roy in Ohio, he expressed some concern over the proliferation of e-bikes among the Amish. He’s not sure how that will change their communities over time. Questions like that are often more important than the answers. Our priorities should be driven by our values. We have more control over our values and priorities than we often exercise or even realize.

Thanks to Rachel, I’m adding “peace” to my package of priorities. I explained to her that I’ve always worked towards what I call “positive apathy.” It showed up last night when we stopped for ice cream at an Amish farm.

Grandma had a spray bottle and cloth and was eyeing the outside tables. I glanced heavenward and joked that it was likely to rain soon and the tables would wash themselves. She smiled and said, “We really need the rain.” (Rain should be a priority!) So, while I’d hoped to walk some with the camera, the rain is needed by the farmers and the earth. So be it. There is no need to worry or get upset. Peace, comfort, fun.

It may seem ironic that I’m adding to a package that is getting smaller, but I think it works that way. As the saying goes, “Less is more.”

Rain can be calming.

Oh, No! Not that again!

If only it were this easy!

Lane closed… Construction ahead!

No, we didn’t count how often we encountered it. But we did notice that people seem to see a sign beneath it reading, “Prizes awarded to those who get to the point of merging first!”

We are left to ponder the competitive nature of our society in general. A distant cousin in the Netherlands posted this morning about her son being bullied during his elementary school career. I think there’s a correlation here. (Not between road closings in the U.S. and schools in Holland, but between the constant competition and bullying.)

I might also be tired of driving. Today is our third day with a low goal of 250 miles. I can do this. I’m not excited about it but I can do this. Wait! Is that a form of competing with myself?

Life is not just about setting records.

As another example, I never intended to publish daily. (I did intend to keep a daily journal.) But here I am. I did look at today’s route and it does include some “non-Interestate” miles. Somehow, that’s a relief. Stopping for traffic lights seems better than being squeezed out by people who want to get there first.

I did need to refuel yesterday. The Ram has a range of 600 miles on a tank of gas! And we are averaging 20 MPG, even with all the merging and 10 MPH speeds.

But it would be nice to slow down because we want to and not because we have to!

And Four to Go!

It’s just about a half-mile from our house to the paved road. As we settle in our seats, that half-mile is an opportunity for us to clear our heads and remember something we either forgot or didn’t do. At the risk of bragging, we rarely find it necessary to turn around and go back.

Our first break will likely be in Gardiner, where we’ll recycle some coffee. Following the wisdom of serious road trippers, our first day is our most ambitious with a goal of Danbury, CT. It’s all familiar territory, and if we get an early start, the traffic on 495 should be tolerable. Note that we didn’t plan to leave Maine on Sunday.

Are we ready? A common answer is, “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” So there might be a theory of relativity on readiness. I just remembered a few minutes ago that I need to pump up the EZ Pass. I wasn’t as ready as I thought I was! (Yes, it does so automatically. But depending on technology is not without hazards. A few years ago, I went through two tolls close together. The balance ran out after the first one, and I didn’t have time to replenish before the second. A $2 toll became $30.)

Have we left? Well, not physically. But in our minds…

So many things are relative. That might mean there are more processes than events, and that’s worth considering.

Many years ago, I attended Berkshire Community College. The first president, Tom O’Connell, was justifiably proud of our motto. “To travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive.” I remember him talking about it during a “President’s Hour.” I think he planted the seeds of my belief that life is an “unfinishedness.” For that matter, arriving may be relative as well. While planning and goals are important, we live in present moments.

Simple. This trip started months ago. When will it end? Maybe, in the truest sense, it won’t. Those present moments create change.

This portion of life’s journey begins with rereading “The Brook” by Alfred Lord Tennyson.

And out again I curve and flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.

Two for the Show!

In the previous post, I mentioned the possibility of “coincidence or Karma” influencing some of our decisions. We were initially planning a “Road Trip 2025.” How that became “Road Trip 2024” might be a matter of coincidence or Karma.

My uncle was a dairy farmer. I blame him for my interest and love of all things cow. As a kid, I “helped” put up hay bales (rode on the baler), stood in the silo while it rained silage, helped with the milking… Our only difference was that he loved to watch horse pulling at fairs. I prefer ox draws. The competition is fun, but I just enjoy watching a good team being driven by a skilled teamster. Somewhere along the way, I realized I’d love to be “in the pit” and closer to the oxen.

For the uninitiated, an ox (singular) is a bovine trained and used as a draft animal. They are usually castrated bulls and fairly docile and safe to work with and are best trained starting as calves. The vocabulary is potentially confusing. In simple terms, oxen are castrated mature males. Cows are mature females that have been bred.

“The cow is of the bovine ilk; one end is moo, the other milk.”

Ogden Nash

I stumbled on to the Tillers International Website and learned they offer workshops (“hands on”) teaching how to train and drive oxen. It took some rationalizing, but I signed up, at first thinking it might be one of the most useless things I’ve done. It didn’t take long for this to morph into Road Trip 2024–visiting simplicity and tradition. The trip will include some time with Amish Communities and serve as research for a book on hope to write.

For a preview of “the show,” I can offer this video of a previous workshop held in June, 2024.

Can’t wait to smell some hay!

We’ll also spend a week in Holmes County, Ohio where the Amish flourish, visit a young Mennonite Friend in Indiana, and see some Amish friends in Pennysylvania. Three to get ready!

Subtle Changes

Some would say that subtle changes are the best ones. It’s no secret that human beings like predictability. Visit the grocery store and discover that “they moved” where certain things are. Or discover that the store has changed its hours. When did that happen?

For some reason, this year, I’ve been more keenly aware of the changes taking place with the way we celebrate Memorial Day. The irony doesn’t escape me that I’m remembering how we used to celebrate this day by remembering military personnel who died serving our country.

When I was a young child, Memorial Day was a big deal. Preparations started long before the day itself. I accompanied my Dad on multiple trips to the cemetery, making graves “look good.” We also would retrieve heavy rifles stored at the then-legion hall for some spit and polish in anticipation of the big parade that everyone in town attended. Mom spent a lot of time fussing with Dad’s dress blues. I got to wear my very own sailor’s cap on the day itself.

I don’t remember any cookouts or family picnics, although I’m sure we had them. One of my favorite photos of Dad is him in full uniform kneeling in a pasture on my uncle’s father’s farm. I think he stayed in uniform most of the day—at least that’s the way I remember it. Dad always seemed to stand a little taller and straighter on Memorial Day. I tried to be like him.

A Normandy Cemetery

The overriding word for that day was “pride.” at seven years old, I didn’t fully understand it, but I felt it.

Seventy years later, I wonder what today’s seven-year-olds are thinking and feeling.

I listened to a George Patton speech (not George C. Scott!) last night. He described the trail of the Third Army and Eighth Air Force as “marked by forty thousand white crosses, forty thousand dead Americans.” That mattered. He cared about them.

Memorial Day does not celebrate those deaths. It does not celebrate war. It is perhaps more accurately a celebration of human potential and of human commitment.

It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived.

George S. Patton

When did it become difficult to find a parade to watch on this special day? When did we stop visiting the cemetery to place flowers and straighten flags?

The least we can do today is stand a little taller and straighter.

Walter Bruce Boomsma, Sr.
S1 USNR
World War II
September 29, 1926 – June 24, 1954