Listening To The Wind Tonight

I am sitting here hearing the wind occasionally and it’s reminding me a lot of going to the mountains with Pop and/or my dad as a kid growing up. My dad went more during the fall and winter for hunting plus at that time he wasn’t umpiring and my brothers weren’t playing baseball.

One of the things that I remember so fondly is the first fall days like this which it would be cold and windy and the first snow flurries of the year which I’m sure they had today. It was so relaxing hearing the wind and the occasional cracks in the coal stove from burning wood. The grate was messed up in that heater so the draft couldn’t really be controlled properly for coal. At night it was the boring kerosene heaters and until later on the only light was from those old Coleman lanterns. There was no electric in our trailers and no plumbing either so you had to go out to the outhouse or piss out the door.

Pop pop hunted but I don’t really know why he hunted. He was an animal lover and He couldn’t shoot any animal with anything but a camera. He said he would but I never heard of him actually shooting anything. He just liked being out in nature I think.

I never hunted due to my vision but I did enjoy the time with my dad and pop pop. My dad always tried to find ways to include me. One of the ways was to help carry boards up the mountain to build his tree stand. That sucked at the time but now I appreciate that he included me in that.

I also got to shoot guns. Maybe I couldn’t see the targets that well but I’d have to say I was a pretty decent shot considering how little I could see and the fact that I didn’t really get all that much practice in. Yes a legally blind person can shoot though. We were always around guns up at the camp ground and they were never ever locked up. Yet we knew and were taught that they weren’t toys. There was also the experience of helping to gut the deer my dad shot when I was around 12 or 13. It was more less learning about what needs to be removed.

I was also taught fishing by both my dad and pop. It turns out I simply don’t have the patience to sit there and wait for a fish to bite and I was more fascinated by watching the waves in the lake and how they interacted and behaved.

If we caught big enough fish we would of course eat them. Until Neal told my dad how to cook catfish we through those back. After eating them for the first time they became my favorite type of fish to eat. When the skin tastes sort of like burnt potato chips it’s just right.

The mountains was my happy place when I was growing up. It was the place where my vision didn’t seem to matter any. People weren’t so out to get each other.

I think the bigger reason it was my happy place is my family (parents particularly) weren’t always fighting. It seemed they were happy there and that made me happy as a kid. Maybe it’s because they were away from the stress of every day life? My dad had his flaws for sure but he worked his ass off to support his family. I would be inclined to say he worked himself to death to try to financially support my mom.

Growing up I somehow managed to blame the fighting on myself or something I did. Even as a small kid I remember thinking that if I was never born they would be happy. I understood my vision problems was a burden to my parents. I now know that I wasn’t the reason but I won’t really go into details on what the reasons were.

The whole experience about going to eight bees for me are nothing more than a fading memories from several decades ago but that was a good time in my life. I have so many very fond memories of that time and place. I hope everyone else has something similar.

The main point though is I am finding the gusty winds very soothing to me right now. Maybe it’s because I am crashing hard from doubling up on WODs today and tough ones at that but I am feeling totally content and relaxed. I almost never feel that way nor have I ever in my life, I am the one that worries about things that others didn’t even think to worry about.

In some ways I wish I was still a member there although it was vastly different as I got older and they allowed more people in. It was less quiet and much more crowded. Still it would be nice to be able to go there and completely disconnect even if it were just for a weekend.

It’s different for sure but now my happy place to unwind is lifting in the garage. I am definitely happy all the time now unless I’ve having a bad day or something but it’s nice to have a place to get lost in my own thoughts.

The weights give my a chance to find my inner peace sometimes. It’s just me versus gravity and nothing else is really a concern for the brief moment when I am performing a rep or a set. If I miss a lift that just means I have to try again sometime and get to practice more and try to solve the problem of why I missed it in the first place.