Part One: 1930

As I stroll in silence alongside a bubbling stream,

A glimmer of movement flickers off to the side.

I turn swiftly to catch the gauzy azure wings

Disappear at the moment a meadowlark sings.

The chirping stream, the merry meadowlark.

The early sun tingles upon my skin.

A musical, magical place, I just know I'm right...

I sit on the cool soft grass as I pray for new sight.

The meadowlark alights on a twig above the happy brook,

Her song is a hymn of the meadow

Her puffed yellow breast gleams with pride,

And her song finds the  peace I'd lost inside.

A spotted deer drinks just a few yards away

And the stream is content to share it's purity.

As I watch in silent awe and childlike glee,

The deer raises her head and...wow...she winks at me.

Then the grass, a grove of surreal green

As it dries the morning dew,

Comes alive with a sight I'd always hoped to see--

Nine tiny fairies, looking up curiously at me.

They make me want to smile, so I do,

Their radiant laughter is wind chimes in the breeze.

They don't seem amazed that I'm aware they're there,

With their guileless smiles, they draw melody from the air.

They dance, they play, their laughter like Christmas bells

Instill in me a desire to join them, but doesn't yet feel right.

So, I watch, and listen. I'm rapt in their dance.

I know, just know, I'm not here by chance.

The tinkling, chiming fairy songs sound like praise--

To what or whom I don't know.

But when one sweet pixie wing grazes my cheek with a kiss,

I know I'm in church, in this garden of bliss.

With the sun-washed mountains around me,

And the blossomed meadow and clear stream in my midst,

I know this is my sacred place, and my time to shine,

I can leave in contentment, for I now know what is mine.

Maybe not mine alone, because that does no good.

This sacred meadow was meant to be shared.

After all, church is for those desperate for light,

And what better place than here to make wrongs right.

So search for that special purple-woven meadow

With the misty rainbow fairies, majestic deer, and lark.

Open your ears, open your eyes, and open your heart,

For church in holy meadow will bestow a fresh start.

The Truth About Falsehood

Forrest has admitted he is prone to exaggeration. (I'm hoping I'm correct on this and not committing an honest lie). We all are, depending on the time and circumstance.

Some people have insinuated that Forrest has maliciously and purposely lied. The purpose of this post is to assert that  he has not maliciously lied, or even maliciously deceived. He wants us to work for the answer, and that means finding the correct context. The truth is in front of you, but is cleverly hidden in words and context. In my opinion, of course.

So, I did some research on exaggeration and falsehoods in general, and was pretty surprised.

Did you know how many types of falsehoods there are? There's like a million different kinds (exaggeration). 

We all employ some of these falsehoods in everyday life without even knowing it. I'll go over a few with you.

First, let's talk about the honest lie. It sounds like an oxymoron, doesn't it? But you and I probably commit this kind of falsehood every day when we communicate. Especially when we talk about the chase. There are so many quotes and bits of information to remember that sometimes, without having your five thousand spreadsheets (exaggeration, or maybe not!) laid out before you, you misquote something Forrest has said. I've done it. Even Dal might have done it (I don't know that for sure). I believe those are honest lies. We didn't intend to mislead, and we weren't aware at the time that we spoke false.

Now, let's talk about the famous ball of string. It could be an exaggeration, which is stretching the truth. The fundamental basis of the story is true, but it has been stretched to convey a more powerful meaning. Forrest may have collected the string, but in the retelling of the story, the string grew to such a size in a year so as not to be able to fit out  his bedroom door. Now, for that to be completely true, Forrest either lived in a mouse hole, the three strings a day were several feet long, or the strings were not literal strings. We know Forrest loved to collect things, but did he really create a ball of string so large in one year that it couldn't fit out his bedroom door?  I think that may be an exaggeration, where he exaggerates with the purpose to convey a more powerful and meaningful story. Of course, I'm not Forrest, so this is supposition on my part. 

I'm glad you didn't collect eyeballs, Forrest.

Jedidiah Smith was famous for another kind of falsehood--the jocose lie, or tall tale. These were falsehoods purposely told to provide humor, and it was usually understood by the audience that the story wasn't exactly the truth, despite the teller swearing up and down it was. I can imagine old Jed sitting by the fire saying that while being chased by 420 Injuns on horseback, he jumped into a deep crick, and just before the tomahawk came down on his scalp, a family of giant beavers swam up, grabbed him by his britches and carried him to the safety of their dam, which was set up like a mansion. And then he had cherry pie with the beaver family while the Injuns stomped around on dry ground, scratching their heads in bewilderment.

Jedidiah just before he was separated from his friends, chased by Indians, and ate pie with the Beaver family.

Then, there's the noble lie, which I'm not too familiar with, yet I know it happens. I think the government may think of their lies as "noble," but I'm not sure I buy into that. A noble lie is a lie told maintain calm and order, when if the truth was known, all hell could break loose. A parent thinks they're telling their child a noble lie when they say a shot won't hurt. However, that's not the truth. Shots do hurt, some more than others, depending on the type of shot and the child's pain tolerance. And the result of that noble lie is that the child loses a bit of trust in the parent, which makes them less noble. That's why parents are now encouraged to tell kids the truth, but maybe not the whole truth. "It'll pinch, but will only last a couple seconds." 

If this is a cat, it's doing what cats do best. It might be a rabbit, though.

I wonder what "noble lies" the government feeds us on a daily basis. We know there have been many noble lies exposed in the past (Vietnam, JFK's close call with nuclear war), with the same result on the American public as on those kids who were told shots don't hurt. We've lost trust. 

WHAT?! Marco! Tokyo! Did you REALLY just say that?

Bill Clinton attempted the falsehood known as the "cover up" with Monica Lewinsky. I don't judge Bill for doing what he did. I don't know what his circumstances were, as I wasn't there. Still, it doesn't mask the fact he attempted a cover up. The truth was bound to come out, though. Body language experts know the picture below is a classic sign of a lie--pointing one way and looking another.

I think women who cover themselves with make-up to give the impression of something they're not is a bald-faced (or bare-faced) lie. It seems contradictory, doesn't it, that masking the truth on your face is called "bare-faced." I don't wear much makeup, if any, because I've been told I don't need it, and also because I've always had a strong inclination to be "real." My motto has always been, "What you see is what you get," with me. Well, I will admit I like the blind highlights in my hair.

All natural...waking up with a smile.

However, I could tell you right now that I dated Drew Carey last night, and that is not entirely false, Maybe it's a half-truth, because he was my boyfriend in my dream last night, which totally baffles me. What in the world am I hiding within myself that I would picture myself with the host of The Price is Right? Don't get me wrong, I like Drew Carey. I've heard he's a nice guy, and I admire his determination to get healthy, and I think he's pretty funny. But not who I'd normally picture myself dating. I actually laughed out loud when I woke up. By the way, Drew Carey, if you Google yourself and happen to read this, I would probably love to go on a date with you. But I think we can skip the beach exercise sessions with the audience of your daytime game show (now, isn't THAT an ambiguous statement!).

The last falsehood I'll mention (this may need to be a two-parter) is the contextual lie. That's where someone states the truth out of context, which leads to a false impression, but is not a technical falsehood. It's sort of like we talked about yesterday with ambiguity. I feel the poem may be a contextually ambiguous work. Pretty ingenious! Like "canyon down." If you fail to search out the context, you're led to believe "down" means literally "down." So many of us find that canyon on the map, and take the canyon "down," not realizing that "down" is a noun and may mean something completely different.

Oh, there is so much more! Like the Haystack Answer, the Weasel Word equivocation), the Butler Lie, the Polite Lie, and deflection. I think I will make this a two-parter. 

If only the "needle" were this big!

So, the question is...has Forrest lied to us? NO. He has probably exaggerated, probably been purposely contextually ambiguous, but he has not lied. In my opinion, he's trying to convey a deeper purpose, a deeper meaning to those of us who are willing to work for it.

Stay tuned for some good info...

A Short Explanation of Ambiguity

It appears we have two camps in the chase of Forrest Fenn's treasure. Those in Camp One admit the poem is ambiguous.

This camp has the light on. Those smart campers!

People in Camp Two (the wrong camp, in my opinion) say the poem is "easy" to solve if you read it the "right" way. This may be true, but what is the right way?

So, what is ambiguity? Is it the same as vague? Many people think so, but it isn't. Ambiguous riddles can sometimes be solved using a series of "rules" or "steps," while vague riddles can't lead to a specific "solve."

Which one points in the right direction?

Solving an ambiguous riddle can lead you to go with confidence. Solving a vague riddle requires luck.

So, the poem is ambiguous, in my opinion. Probably intentionally so. Forrest himself says solving it is difficult, but not impossible.

There are all types of ambiguity, which is the reason why there are so many theories that seem to "fit" a solve. Man, I've been there. I've probably been on every bandwagon of theories that bounce around like the bubble gum machine bouncy balls Joe hoards in the glove department of my car.

A sampling of theories for "in the wood":
1. A literal wooded place
2. A petrified tree trunk
3. Behind a tree
4. In an outhouse (since ruled out)
5. In a place named "wood."
6. In a coffin (since ruled out--I think)
7. In the foundation of a ruined building'
8. In a log
9. In something made of wood, like a canoe
10. In relation to a woodwind instrument.

I think "in the wood" means something else, but I'm not divulging it. :)

Why The Poem is ambiguous:

1 There is more than one meaning to many of the words. "Warm" can mean "not quite hot," or that you are close (as in the kid's game), or it can mean a color in the warm spectrum--orange, yellow, red, etc. So warm is an ambiguous word. "Halt" can mean a railroad stop, or a temporary stop, or even a slowing down. Halt is an ambiguous word. Various meanings can be attributed to almost every other word in the poem.

2. The grammar is ambiguous. Why are there mistakes in the grammar?  Why the commas in odd spots? There is a reason, in my opinion, because the writer crafted the poem to be intentionally ambiguous.

How do you solve an ambiguous riddle? I'll tell you a secret. I believe you solve it by context (and so do the people who study such things). Context means finding out exactly what those commas, periods, apostrophes and other punctuation mean. Context is reading the poem in the correct way. Which words are nouns? Which are verbs? Which are prepositions and adverbs? Interpreting words out of context can lead to all kinds of problems. Just ask Bible scholars.

The placing of commas can change the context of a sentence. I've went over this before. If you say "Let's eat Grandma," Grandma is in big trouble. If you say, "Let's eat, Grandma," Grandma is being invited to eat (maybe cookies). Changing the place of commas can change a noun to a verb, or a verb to a noun.

Most people read "the canyon down" as canyon being a noun and down as an adjective. In the context, however, down is actually another noun. So, that rules out many meanings.

But, all this is really supposition, because the poem is ambiguous, and to solve it, you not only have to figure out the meanings to the words in their context, but also the author's rules. Which, apparently, are all in the poem. I haven't found them all yet. I think I've found most of them, but I can't know I'm right until I go with confidence and have the chest in my hands.

Before you play a game, you gotta know the rules.

Eyes are important

Sorry, everyone, I was down for the count the whole holiday weekend with iritis. I went to urgent care after taking my mom to the hair salon. The sunlight felt like razor swords piercing my eye. My whole head throbbed, and even my darkest sunglasses didn't help. On the way home from the salon, I lifted my sunglasses and asked my mom if my eye was red. She looked, then quickly turned away and screamed.

I turned to get a second opinion from Joe. He said, "Eww, Mom, you look like the Walking Dead."

Yeah, it was that bad. I'm not going to post a picture. I showed it to Jamie, who proceeded to zoom in to find the cause. But really, it's too gross for the general population. So tomorrow, exactly one week before my new insurance goes into effect, I need to see an ophthalmologist I can't afford to see if the infection extends into the cornea. My vision in that eye is extremely blurry, and iritis is serious enough to blind you if untreated.

So, I spent my weekend holed up in my dark room, watching movies with Monet and two cats, which was actually enjoyable. :)

Tomorrow I want to blog about ambiguity.

No monkey here

You know that old saying, "I've got a monkey on my back?" If you have a monkey on your back, you have a seemingly insurmountable problem you can't forget. I've got some things that are hard to forget, but nothing that's insurmountable. My little family is full of a love that conquers all.

That's why I choose to have a puppy on my back. I wake up with a smile this way.

Picture taken just after waking up. Monet has my back. :)

I'm postponing the trip to Sugar Mill Ruins at Jamie's request. She's doing something special with one of the pics over on Dal's blog. It'll hopefully be under the Found Treasures tab over there. After it's up, I'll post the pics and the story. :)

And here's my attempt to make a middle school band concert more fun:

Yesterday...

Yesterday, Jamie and I were feeling a little lucky, so after work we drove to the Tampa Hard Rock. We had a good time, but the best part was working through what we know about the chase on the way there. Jamie's voice was hoarse by the time we go to Tampa. But wow, we know some amazing stuff.

At the casino, Jamie went off to play poker and I went to play my favorite slot. This was my big haul for the night:

Notice I only needed one more of those Quick Hits for the $19,000 prize. But I was more than happy with what I got! I invited some people from Dal's blog over to join us for dinner, but Goofy yelled at me for being off topic and it was getting late anyway, and for some reason, the lights and noise, which are usually sort of soothing to me, were just lights and too much noise.

Jamie sat down on her way out and put a large note in this machine, which apparently didn't like her lucky green toenails.

So Jamie and I went to Denny's and brought in TTOTC and TFTW. I ordered a Grand Slam, but was highly disappointed to learn they didn't serve grits at 10:00 pm, even though it says breakfast served 24 hours. When I was a college kid, I could get grits at Denny's at 1:00 am.

Anyway, my Slam had two eggs over easy, toast, pancakes with extra butter, but no syrup allowed, and bacon. At least the thin brown pieces of plastic looked like bacon. Jamie ordered some weird avocado cheeseburger. Jamie tried to win a prize out of the stuffed animal claw machine, but failed. Then she let me try. I failed, too. My nieces know the trick and could clean out that machine.

Today, Jamie woke up and counted some cheese. Really, she did. She sent the text to prove it.

Today, if the weather stays good, we're going kayaking and treasure hunting. I hope we find some cool stuff. I'll keep you posted!

Oh yeah, Monet is better. :)

The answer's still blowing...somewhere...

From Dal's Blog...

I have a post almost ready with some interesting stories you may not know about the Jolly Green Giant helicopters in Vietnam (the same that rescued Forrest at least one time), but there was some talk on Dal's blog last night that led me to sum it up (I'll post the whole story in a couple days...I want to make sure I fact check enough to get it right, unlike PEOPLE MAGAZINE, who stated over and over that the treasure is in NM. Come on! There's almost FIVE YEARS of information out there!). I'll also admit I've not done enough fact checking before a post, and I'm trying to remedy that, but geez, the knowledge that the search extends beyond NM is ALL OVER the web!

Anyway, I posted this on Dal's blog:

"Has anyone else considered that the way Forrest recently described himself, “I’m a retired fighter pilot who was shot down twice,” is important? I read about the Jolly Green’s and the FAC’s, and what’s interesting is how extremely rare it is for a fighter pilot to survive being shot down twice.”

And notice he doesn't say “two times,” but specifically, “twice.” And very curious that in Ute, the word for “twice,” is “wize.”

Shot down twice. Extremely lucky. Horseshoes a symbol of good luck, and there are two of them…

If you’ve been twice…"

Another blogger replied with this:

"In my well intentioned but probably doesn’t come across as humble opinion, I think that focusing on information like this will only get us farther away from the correct solve. I saw your post on The Catcher in the Rye and its importance but Mr. Fenn has specifically said no literature of any form influenced his writing of the poem. There is a person I see more often on Jenny’s site named Astree who is constantly using anagrams even though Mr. Fenn has clearly stated anagrams are not involved. If we take all of the comments Mr. Fenn has made and the books he has written or talked about the amount of “Clues” we can concoct would be endless."

To which I replied:

"Actually, he didn’t specifically say anagrams. Read that quote again. And no, I agree that no literature influenced his hiding the chest, but I DO believe that concepts FOUND in important literature did.

And my Ute comment is simply based on a COMPREHENSIVE knowledge of geography, which he said WAS helpful.

My reading about the Jolly Greens was simply because I was interested in it, and in reading and comparing it to what I read in TTOTC, I find curiosities. There’s a reason he keeps repeating he was shot down twice. There’s a reason he says the PJ in the Jolly Green didn’t need to tell him TWICE to sit on the flak vest. If you invest a little time researching and striving to know the nuances behind his words, you learn a lot. Whether you learn any hints as to where the chest is hidden, I don't know, but learning about these things might help you understand the man who hid the chest a little better. (I wanted to say this in the reply, but it was about 5:00 am, and I forgot, so I add it here)

Now I know why he rushed to the flak vest. Most likely, they were taking enemy fire. The enemy would purposely wait for the Jolly Green’s to come, and when the helicopter was at its most vulnerable –when the hoist began to lift the downed pilot from the ground–they would open fire with heavy Soviet artillery.

Almost every rescue involved an enemy attack, and like Forrest, I think those Jolly Green guys were huge, selfless heroes.

Just a short time after Forrest’s rescue, Lt. Lance Eagan rescued another pilot, Cpt. Jack Modica, and that exciting story can be read online. I encourage everyone to read it, because once you do, you’ll have a whole new appreciation of those ultimate heroes.

So, no anagrams or ciphers, but important literature is important for a reason. Not that he was influenced by any, but because there might be concepts in them that are also in the poem and the big picture.

I think there’s a reason Forrest quoted his dad when he said it was good to learn the things "not worth knowing" about. Because you may find there’s something worth knowing in everything."

Those blades and engines may have been the most welcome sound in Vietnam. It meant help was on it's way.

I've found valuable information in everything I've ever researched, whether it relates to the chase or not. Of course, I'm trying desperately to find the treasure, but I'm going to stop and smell the roses as I do. If something looks interesting to ME, I'm going to read about it and learn about it. I wanted to know why A1C Sully didn't have to tell Forrest twice to sit on the flak vest. I found out (the enemy was mostly shooting from the GROUND, and sitting on the flak vest was a way to protect your butt), and I learned something interesting in the process. I learned about some heroes, and remembered them with a smile and a tear in my thoughts. I'm learning there is a lot in the world to be grateful for. I'm also learning a lot about how things used to be, and how there are pros and cons about living in the world we live in today. 

I'm learning about what is wrong with our world today, and have a new perspective on what is mine, and not mine, and everybody's.

I'm also learning there are many things we are in the process of forgetting, and we should not EVER forget. 

And still they smile. As Forrest said, "Such heroes are few."

Unknown Soldier

Dragged from the mud 

Of some unknown land 

Stripped of his belongings and 

Wrapped for his journey home

Must one die here so young and so alone. 

To become a man, victim of an undeclared war 

On unknown soil. To be so soon forgotten 

By those who sent him here

- Roger Ables - 

HHB 321 Arty

What we'd do when it's done

I had a lot of dreams last night, which meant I woke up a lot. One of the dreams was a little disturbing, but not until I woke up and thought about it. While I was dreaming it, it was pleasant, in a way.

In part of it, Joe and I were searching for the treasure, and we found ourselves in this town made of giant stone facades. Some were storefront facades, and some were more creative. Joe thought the stone Indian Chief that almost touched the clouds might hold a secret, or something special. But before we could approach, something happened, and the stone storefronts started to collapse. And for some reason, that was a good thing.

Imagine this, all white stone, touching the sky, and you have the Indian in my dream.

So, anyway, enough of that. I think I made an important finding last night, but by the time I had all the information, it was getting late, and I fell asleep, once again while texting Jamie. I woke up to like 15 long texts.

Jamie and I talked a little bit yesterday about what we would do if we actually found the chest. I said I'd like to take my kids to see our ancestral homeland of Scotland, and search for another lost treasure. Jamie said she would like to travel, too. After the celebratory part of finding it was over, Jamie would like to start a school teaching kids in a different, more cognitive way than schools teach now. I thought that was really cool.

After my celebratory phase was over, I would like to  start a ranch out west for young adults who feel lost and alone, or for kids with autism. It would be venturing into new ground for me, but those are my two greatest passions. I would incorporate some of the teachings and wisdom of the Indian culture around the ranch, and we'd have animals and we'd teach practical knowledge that young people need to succeed. We'd focus on teaching skills and instilling wisdom rather than conventional ABC's and 123's. I bet Jamie would like the idea of the ranch, too. What do you think, Jamie? We'd make a great partnership. We already do! I would like to maybe make it non-profit, so that it could be available to kids of all income levels, or maybe we could get some philanthropists to provide scholarships. I don't know. There's a lot of thought and research to be put into such a weighty endeavor.

Can you imagine what this kind of thing could instill in kids? "Texting machines" replaced by something infinitely more valuable, if only for a summer, could bring whole new meaning to our future's lives.

Those may be pipe dreams, but I've always believed that where there's a will, there's a way. I don't really know anything about business, but if it's meant to be, it will be...if I can find the courage to walk forward, step by step, Those kids need this ranch. And I want to do it. So, treasure or not, now is the time to start trying to find my way there. It might take my entire half of the treasure (I just looked at prices of small ranches...wow!), but that doesn't deter me, because it's a purpose I can't ignore.

The end of my rainbow,

The main thing Jamie and I want to do is pay it forward. Use Forrest's good to start a new good, if you know what I mean.

This was going to be something else...

I was going to write about the Misty and Spad Forward Air Controllers in Vietnam this morning. Not because it relates to the chase, but because it reminds me there are still heroes in the world that don't belong to S.H.I.E.L.D.

And because it's 5:30 on a Monday morning and my brain is still swimming in a miry swamp of sleep-fog.

So, anyway, Jamie was in rare form last night, texting all kinds of craziness about watches and good luck charms and apartments and animal crackers and some other stuff that left me scratching my head and saying, "I don't have a clue what you're talking about." She's the fastest texter I know. I'll start typing one sentence, and before I can even hit send, she's psychically anticipated what I'm about to say and ELEVEN reply bubbles pop up on my screen.

Anyway, she texted something about her dog barking at a mean neighbor and digging up a bone. Apparently, Jamie didn't like Hartman digging up that particular bone, and she wanted him to help her rebury it. So she pulled out two spades, and gave Hartman the option of picking which one he wanted--the nifty black one, or the tiny plain silver one:

So, by the look Hartman is giving Jamie, it's obvious he wants her to choose first. What a polite dog! But Jamie is polite, too, and insisted that Hartman pick first. Hartman wasn't playing that game and Jamie describes this as his "just looking out the window" expression:

Hartman is as much of a character as Jamie is. I like that dog. And Jamie.

As I was falling asleep, I vaguely heard multiple beeps on my phone, but was too tired to check until this morning. It was nice to wake up with a laugh. Jamie sent me a couple more pics of Hartman. This is Hartman's "Are you reading that book AGAIN?" face. I get the same look from my kids when I pick up my tattered copy of TTOTC.

And this picture may be the best dog photobomb ever. I couldn't contain my laughter when I saw this:

And I can't post pics of someone else's dog without posting pics of mine. This is Monet the other night when I was trying to relax in the bath. She either wanted to come in with me, or she was trying to tell me to get out and get her a treat. I'm pretty sure she wanted the treat.

Then, if I so much as talk to Monet, the cat has to get in on the action. I'm not really a cat person, so I don't know why this cat has to practically step on my heels everywhere I go.

Monet couldn't stand it. But the cat is bigger than she is, so she doesn't mess with him too much. Instead, she just takes a spot a little further down.

Oh, and that cat may be the must ungraceful cat to ever walk the Earth. There's a 50/50 chance that when he takes that spot on the side of the tub, he'll fall in the water with me. And that isn't a funny thing, unless you think a whirling helicopter of razor sharp claws in hot water gouging your naked flesh and getting your book or iPad all wet is funny.

I'm sure some of you think it's hilarious.

Findings and Discoveries

I once was lost but now I'm found. And lately, I've made some important discoveries regarding the chase. Only Jamie and Forrest know. But of course, Forrest never responds to anything I write him about my discoveries. Which is a good thing. When I send him my thoughts, I'm simply letting him know how close (or how extremely far away) I am from solving the poem. I imagine he's laughed out loud at some of my solves.

I say discoveries versus findings for a reason. I had never "lost" what I've discovered, so in my way of thinking, something I haven't lost can't be "found."

So, I think discovery is finding something no one else has lost. Electricity was discovered. Elements and chemical compounds are discovered. Things previously unknown are discovered.

Joe discovering his first fish.

Objects someone has lost are found.

Oh, he will not be happy when it's time to go home.

During the last couple years, I have both discovered and found many things. Mostly, though, I've found things I'd thought I'd lost. I hadn't written a poem in about twenty years before about six months ago. So I've found that passion for poetry that I'd lost.

I've found my sense of adventure that was never really lost, but suppressed under the weight of responsibility and stress. I've discovered that being adventurous doesn't mean abandoning responsibility.

From my Colorado trip with Joe.

I've found the wonder of nature and the world outside my home. Again, this wasn't really lost, but weighed down. I've discovered I don't have to be nor am expected to be a martyr. I can balance taking care of my family with adventure.

I've both found and discovered a love and curiosity for the past. I've always loved the ancient past, but I have discovered I'm also intensely interested in the more recent past. I have a few patients in their 90's and I find myself spending more time with them during their treatments. They seem to enjoy talking about the past (especially if they served in a war), and they seem to enjoy my questions. I think my incredulous reactions to some of their experiences amuse them, but I'm glad I can put a smile on their faces. Many of them have no surviving family, and many of them still live independently. They don't have many opportunities to share their life, and I'm discovering it's important for them to share, and important for me to listen.

So, that's my perception of finding and discovering.

Monday, I'm going to find my inner Viking and start working out again with Shannon Hall (formerly Dallas, of American Gladiator fame).  She was the first Toughwoman World Champion, and the first woman to box in Madison Square Garden. She lives here in NSB, and I'm fortunate to call her one of my best friends. Don't let the on stage confidence and toughness fool you. In real life she has a huge heart of gold. She is one of the most inspirational people I know, and always positive and encouraging.  I want to be in prime fighting shape for my next search. With her coaching me, I will be!

Shannon at her gym in NSB.