Leave the World a Better Place

They grow up so fast! How many times did we hear that expression when _we were the children? I remember my parents saying this to my aunts and uncles and now, its my turn. This year, my beloved nephew turns sixteen. He plays hockey, he's over six feet tall! How did that happen? Wasn't it just yesterday I was tying his shoe laces and taking him to see the "Knights in Shining Armor" at the Cleveland art museum? My niece, my darling, funny little niece with her very, long hair and chatter-box manner. She was the feather-weight that I carried in one arm as we walked into the big, snowy woods to share our first great adventure. Where did she go? I turned my back for just one second and a young woman appeared in her place. Technically she's still a kid - but at twelve she has now helped me to whelp two litters, taken three cross, country road trips with me and has successfully trained two of my horses.

I'm proud of the kids in my life but I demand to know what happened to those sweet little children that I used to know!

As we get older, we begin to mark time. Who knew? In my 20's and 30's the days flew by and I never noticed. If I lost an entire day or week, it was no big deal - tomorrow sprang eternal. Now I know. Time is more precious than gold, slipping right through my fingers. I can not grasp it. There is nothing that I can do...except enjoy the ride.

Wasn't it just yesterday I welcomed my sister's kids into this world? Clay was a month old when I saw him for the first time. He smiled up at me from his crib and our eyes connected and for one glorious moment - time stood still. What will that kid be when he is grown? Not even he knows, but I'm certain he'll add goodness to the world. The first time I met Caleigh, she was crying in her mother's arms. Silly me was afraid to hold her - I thought, "What if I don't love her as much as I do Clay?" One look into that beautiful round face was all it took to wash away my fears. With tears of joy running down my cheeks, I kissed her and for one brief moment, she was silent long enough to meet my gaze. With her little hand, she reached up and tweaked my nose and in that one second, I understood the nature of the ever-expanding heart.

The kids, my horses and my dogs, we are all connected. When I was young my mother used to tell us, "Always leave the world a little better than when you found it." Whatever they choose to do with their lives, I know they will fulfill the Smithwood code of honor.

Out with the Old, In with the New - is it better?

In the farthest part of the barn, along the concrete wall that once served as the milking station for Griswold's dairy cows, rests an old sign that reads, "Ivy Hill." The sign is battered and rusted and broken right in half. Not original to the property, we think the name Ivy Hill came along sometime in the 1960's when the ancestors of "Old Man Griswold" died out and the property changed hands. By the time my sister bought the place in the early nineties, the new sign and name were already well-known to the area.

No longer a working farm, my sister's family works hard for the privileged of living there. My niece and nephew pitch in too - They do this willingly - they love the "farm lifestyle" and enjoy the land and the property.

Sadly, the last fifteen years have seen insurmountable growth to this area bringing with it, urban sprawl and a changing value system. Where once songbirds competed with cicada in the late afternoon, cars blasting bass rhythms loud enough to knock the flow blue dishes off the cupboard shelf is a common-enough sound at day's end begging the country dweller's question.. "Why do city folks move to the country if they miss the city so much?" If only they would turn off their stereos and learn to listen to the sounds of nature.... ?

As the UPS man tells the story, one day he was stopped in front of Ivy Hill Farm preparing to deliver a package. Behind him, a new car with a booming sound loomed. Impatient and without reverence, the lady driver decided to pass the UPS truck on the inside - between his truck and the Ivy Hill driveway. When she did this, she took out the old hand-painted sign and nearly killed the UPS man who was on foot and barely fell away in time. From his back in the marshy wet bed of Iris the UPS man watched as the old sign post smashed through the right side of the driver's windshield splintering its old sign into a thousand pieces before it fell under the wheels of a the Chrysler 300. Without hesitation or the slightest concern, the lady in the big car just kept on driving, leaving echos rhythms of Eminem in her wake...

Look out, we're going to be seeing more of this in the future. As an octogenarian likes to tell me, "The old ways are being replaced by the new"

Will it be better?

You tell me...