Out of Breath!

IMG_5851 (1)

Florence, Italy

“Can you get us?”
“No. Can you get a little closer, please!”
“How close?”
“A bit more because I can’t seem to get the tip of the church.”
“Try again.”
“I am trying!”

Yes, the life of an amateur photographer atop the Uffizi Museum, attempting to get the tip of the church on the family picture. What he didn’t realize is that most of us can never get it, no matter the angle. It is just how the buildings are positioned and one is best off leaving the task to a professional who would certainly know how to position the camera for that perfect picture. I might say that it was a tad entertaining watching him wrestling with the floor o no avail. Never-the-less, he did not give up, he kept going.

There is no success without sacrifice. To every little bit of step conquered, there is a back door story loaded with curves and curvatures bigger then the Eiffel Tower to fill a tank on how it came to be. It means that in order to achieve that coveted goal, flash our teeth on that podium, we must fight until out of breath, have courage, perseverance, soul to overcome any challenge that presents itself. It is a package that must be handled with care as nothing happens in a vacuum. Although, it may take us sometimes to understand its trails, we must be bold in our resolve to see through the crowned sacrifice we consented to reach the target.

Advertisements

Fishing Made Simple

20170319_152213

A time to unwind. A time relax. A time for family. A time to zen. A time for friends. A time to live. A time to come alive. A time to party. A time to sleep. A time to be merry. A time for leisure. A time for joy. A time for your Amen. Happiness is contagious!  

The Baby Bottle

wp-1475824778261.jpeg

April 13, 2014, Happy Birthday Baby!

I saw this last Saturday at an antique store in Winter Garden, FL and was this close, from purchasing it.

I must confess, as a blogger, curiosity had the best of me. I thought of many reasons the little notes could perhaps, make the ultimate guide to writing beautiful love of parent to child stories, an interesting read but something stopped me at my tracks.

I picked up the jar twice. I turned it around, looked a at it and turned again. I tried to peek through the translucent glass but the notes were so carefully jammed in that not even the Pink Panther would be able to solve the case.
I dragged the jar with me all over the store as I browsed through it. I misplaced it a few times to picking it right back a few seconds later, to finally giving it up for good just as fast as I could sneeze off the dust.

It did not speak to me. I didn’t think it was right. Thought I was violating the person’s trust but one could easily argue, I was not since the jar was up For Sale.

How can parents “love for a child” be up for sale? If indeed the notes were intended for a four years old in 2014, basically two years ago, there must have been a big reason why the jar was discarded and it wasn’t my job to play detective. One could play the devils advocate and assume the notes were intended to be opened when the child was old enough to read but it was there alone, tucked in a corner.

If it was meant for me to have the jar, I would have been Told So. It would speak to me and it didn’t. I would quietly paid for it and walked away with a smile but I didn’t. So, without a tear in my eyes, I laid it back at exactly place where I found it, on the left corner of the second shelf of the bookcase on the last isle.

I could think of a few 100 reasons why I love you, can you?