Pick a little, talk a little......

I think gossip is one of the most insidious, and disregarded, sins that the Good Book warns against. We can all tell stories of the friend/co-worker/neighbor who started rumors about us and what it led to. I think of the musical "The Music Man" and how the ladies of the town, like hens in a barnyard, gossiped about Marian the librarian---"Pick a little, talk a little, pick a little, talk a little, cheep, cheep, cheep, pick a lot, talk a little more..." though amusing in that particular production, there's nothing amusing about gossip in real life. I absolutely deplore the Hollywood tabloids and the way they vivisect the subjects who make the publishers rich. When Brittney was having a mental breakdown, all I could see was: this young woman, who has entertained millions, has a mental illness and people are ridiculing her for it. And of course, some were making money from it. It's at times like these when I almost wish I lived among the Amish (whom I'm sure talk about their neighbors, but nothing like the media tabloids). I'm really not interested in other people's personal lives; I'd much rather hear some positive news about a neighbor/co-worker/celebrity than hear people talk trash. I try to close my ears to such trash talk, but often feel I'm in the minority--"pick a little, talk a little, cheep!!"

Roads

I drove to Waterloo today for my Master Naturalist class. Arriving early, I stopped by to visit my Aunt Doris and Uncle Larry. They were surprised and happy to see me; it's been so long since I've seen them that I can't recall the last time. We chatted about what was happening in Alton (I have to confess, Doris seemed more up-to-date on some things than I was) and one of their cats decided to visit me too. It was a beautiful autumn day and yes, Larry is still feeding his critters. All too soon, I had to leave to attend my class, which was an interesting presentation on forests/woodlands.
After the class was over, one of the participants invited us all to view his gardens and yard in Columbia. He had a beautifully landscaped yard which was dominated by miniature train tracks and trains. Watching the trains, I was struck by the way they went round and round the same route time after time. Sometimes it seems life is like that as well--like we're just going round and round and getting nowhere. When this feeling comes over me, I know it's time to lay down some new tracks--try new things and pursue new interests. Maybe that's what compelled me to take this Master Naturalist class in the first place--to follow the road less traveled, not knowing where it will lead me, but certainly worthwhile. Though the destination is unclear, I know I'm going in the right direction--I refuse to be like a model train that's always going somewhere, but getting nowhere. Like the poet says "I took the road less traveled, and that has made all the difference". Peace.