THE TIMEKEEPER CHRONICLES

"I turned forty years old and suddenly had an epiphany that I had mercifully overlooked before; I will not live forever on this great ball of dirt and water, sand and ocean. My youthful illusions that I would live forever were suddenly shattered like a bowl of fine china sitting on a top shelf. Some day (and I hope it is some day far far down the road) I will shuffle off this mortal coil and breathe my last, leaving only a decaying husk of flesh and a few relatively worthless mementos behind. Dying is not a thought that I relish, but it is my opinion that turning forty gives a person a new perspective, a new outlook on living. When we are young, we take it for granted that we will always be here, that our days are endless and that our own sun will forever beam high in the sky and never set. As we grow older and more mature, we realize that, alas, we are not immortal after all. Bodies begin to sag and wrinkle, eyesight begins to dim, bones become brittle and snap like twigs all too easily. And people in our lives begin to die. Then the harsh truth slaps us in the face like Old Man Winter at the end of autumn: everyone dies. From the moment we emerge from our mother’s womb, we begin the slow process of dying. There is a poem called “The Dash” by Linda M. Ellis, about the years between the cradle and the grave, and how we spend them. The older I get, the more value I place on life, and the more I regret the time that I have wasted. Why does it seem that the sand in the hourglass seems to be running a little faster these days? When I was ten or twelve years old, I couldn’t wait to be a “grownup.” Now that I am sliding down the express lane toward middle age like a greyhound on a greased highway, I can’t seem to put the brakes on. Try as I may, I can’t seem to reverse my journey on the path I’m on, and I refuse to go gentle into that good night. As Woody Allen once said, “I don’t mind dying, I just don’t want to be there when it happens.”

"One thing I have noticed as I take one step closer to the grave is that I have fallen into the habit of reminiscing often about days past. When I was younger, we used to laugh at the older folks for missing “the good ole’ days.” Now I know why they did it. On the whole, life nowadays is so much more complicated and complex than it was thirty, twenty, even ten years ago. In fact, it’s downright scary......."

I found this somewhere, and I don't know who wrote it. But they obviously hit it right on.

Cheers to being older....and alive.


A Pirate looks at fourty - Jimmy Buffet

I'm not sure yet, but we may be getting another addition to the Miller family. The calaco is named "Fai" (pronounced Fay - look, I had nothing to do with it, ok)The white kitty is named "Marshy" (short for marshmellow"). Anyway, there was a whole litter of the little ones found at the PELA facility behind a shed. They were rescued by Susan's mom, so naturally we were volunteered to ONLY keep two of the little critters for a couple of weeks. But, of course, everyone took a liking to the infant felines, so now I guess we have to keep one...just ONE (it looks like it'll be Fai). Just trying to do our part to support the SPCA.Misty is not very impressed.

Here's 2002:


Here's 2007:


Only a couple of things have changed, huh.

I thought this was interesting, considering it seems like just yesterday I was listening to John Cougar Mellencamp (Huh Uh album) on the cassette tape... dang it man, where is the time going? It's funny though, because I do remember the first song I heard on a CD. It was Boys Of Summer by Don Henley. And it was very, very cool.

Compact Disc celebrates 25th anniversary - Philips Press Release

Here's some more scenic pictures from our trip. They make great wallpapers!

























There's still more pics, but I'll post them another time.

CYA