Have you ever thought about the ditty, “these are a few of my favorite things?” Every so often I do, usually right after I have just experienced one of my favorite things. The latest has been at the end of the day when we have just finished taking care of our great-grandson. He just turned one year old on the 16th of April and is just on the cusp of walking. We watch him every Tuesday and Friday while his Mom and Dad are at work. He is a lot of work for two people his grandparent’s ages. We might be rung out and relieved when they pick him up but happy. Having him for the day is one of our favorite things.

It does not take much to make me happy and it’s a good thing. When I blend my age, financial situation and favorite things together I would have to be twins to feel any better. I consider my life has been blessed. I have a loving mate that enjoys the same things that I do and they are not contingent on costing much in the way of money, time or physical stress.

A great many of the people I know who are my age have indicated that if it weren’t for doctor’s visits they wouldn’t have any social life. How true. I have one in Utica tomorrow and am looking forward to it. We will combine a little shopping with the trip and maybe a lunch at one of the more off beat or heralded dining spots such as the Patio Diner or Price Choppers food counter. We will wend our way back home having enjoyed the break tired and grateful for where we live. It may not be one of our most favorite things but it is better than the alternatives.

One of my favorite things is looking at yellow flowers. We planted a bunch of daffodil bulbs around the perimeter of our lawn last fall and were eager to see our results this spring. They are beautiful and I am already looking forward to next spring when they should be mature and starting to spread.

I miss not being able to have a decent garden without expending unreasonable amounts of time, money and physical activity. It has not stopped me from indulging the latent pastoral instincts that lie hidden in the soul of all of us. I have found another pastime that assuages that longing. I have had some success transplanting wild leeks to a wooded area on our lot. I know of no place where they grow naturally in the Adirondacks as they do everywhere a short distance south of here. I have had to devote very little time or effort in growing them. The project hopefully will not only furnish one essential part of an occasional potato leek soup but perhaps provide a reason for why they do not occur naturally in the Adirondacks. I have a theory that I have never heard before that may prove why. I may have the answer to that question in a short time but will keep it to myself until then.

The most contented and happiest people I have ever known found joy in simple things others would be hard pressed to understand. I was served up an example of that when I was far too young to ever recognize what I was witnessing. We were hunting rabbits in a swamp a mile from the road at the end of a snowshoe trail. A young man part of a very poor family of nine about my age was hunting with us. We were hunting on his father’s property and having good luck. About noon he announced that he had to leave, “We are having mutton for lunch.” He followed that up with, “Boy, will that taste.” I defy anyone to come up with a more simple statement than mutton for lunch and will it ever taste?

The dictates of my work selling real estate and forestry pursuits takes me to some interesting places. I find myself driving over some of the most interesting roads and landscapes I have ever seen. The best part is they are usually within fifty miles of home. Short drives can be very entertaining and cost effective considering the cost of gas and all it impacts. Short drives are one of my favorite things especially since my wife has talked me into letting her drive.

Food has got to be near the top of the list of anyone’s favorite things. It’s hard for most people to say what their all-time favorite meal would be. I always ask myself what if I was going to be shot at sunrise what would my traditional request for the last meal be and it would be fried oysters.

We all have favorite every things, clothes, shoes, cars, movie stars, things we like to read or do even words. I detest some words and the connotation they bring to mind. I may employ them in describing persons or philosophies I disagree with but seldom in any other way. My favorite words deal with family matters. Wife, children, grandchildren, mothers, fathers, daughters, sons, husbands and grandparents top my list followed by God, country, nation and military.

Apropos with the holiday the nation celebrates six days from the date this article is published the thought for the week comes from Charles M. Province:

It is the soldier, not the minister,

who has given us the freedom of religion.

It is the soldier, not the reporter,

who has given us freedom of the press.

It is the soldier, not the poet,

who has given us freedom of speech.

It is the soldier, not the campus organizer,

who has given us the right to protest.

It is the soldier, not the lawyer,

who has given us the right to a fair trial.

It is the soldier, not the politician,

who has given us the right to vote.

It is the soldier, who salutes the flag, ho serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin

is draped by the flag, who allows

the protester to burn the flag. Amen