This was a quick Facebook post several months ago. My crooked stick is now in use as a pepper plant stake.
I like sticks. Sticks and I go way
back to the days of my youth as I scouted the woods of Four Mile Creek at Ft. Rucker.
I suppose those of you who know me fairly well know that I have some OCD tendencies...I like life orderly with a bow tied on it. Thankfully, life ain't so OCD.
I still search for sticks. And as I did in my youth, I seek a straight, perfect for holding, no knots or stobs, green stick. I don't want a stick that will crack in half at the slightest pop on the ground. I like to select a stick that is long enough to give Lu a gentle poke on the back hip so she will heel. Its got to have a nice feel. And it must be as straight as a Berkley fishing rod. If you are a stick person, you understand that.
The other day I spied a potential stick on the AUM Trail during my hike with the girls. When I pulled it out of the brushy pile, the end was crooked. It did not fit my requirements of a good stick.
But i
nstead of discarding the
imperfect stick, I decided I needed a flawed stick. I even took it home, got
out my whittlin' knife and cut off the knots, but resisted the urge to whittle
off the crooked part. I am glad I left it.
I carried my new stick on my hike this evening. The crook is good. The crook reminds me that life isn't always a straight flat interstate highway on cruise control. Sometimes life is a muddy, wandering, trail by Four Mile Creek. And sometimes that is better.
I suppose those of you who know me fairly well know that I have some OCD tendencies...I like life orderly with a bow tied on it. Thankfully, life ain't so OCD.
I still search for sticks. And as I did in my youth, I seek a straight, perfect for holding, no knots or stobs, green stick. I don't want a stick that will crack in half at the slightest pop on the ground. I like to select a stick that is long enough to give Lu a gentle poke on the back hip so she will heel. Its got to have a nice feel. And it must be as straight as a Berkley fishing rod. If you are a stick person, you understand that.
The other day I spied a potential stick on the AUM Trail during my hike with the girls. When I pulled it out of the brushy pile, the end was crooked. It did not fit my requirements of a good stick.
But i
nstead of discarding the
imperfect stick, I decided I needed a flawed stick. I even took it home, got
out my whittlin' knife and cut off the knots, but resisted the urge to whittle
off the crooked part. I am glad I left it. I carried my new stick on my hike this evening. The crook is good. The crook reminds me that life isn't always a straight flat interstate highway on cruise control. Sometimes life is a muddy, wandering, trail by Four Mile Creek. And sometimes that is better.
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