18 December 2020

Fifteen Years

I was a bit surprised to realize I started this blog fifteen years ago today: 18 December 2005. I did 19 posts that first year, and a total of 1201 in all these years combined. When this blog began, Facebook was limited to schools and universities; and Twitter and other social media forms did not yet exist.

Over the years, people lost interest in blogs, replacing them in their lives with social media. I think that’s kinda sad as I prefer the longer form platform where I can share a story or a thought. The newer platforms seem best for people with short attention spans, who only want to converse in 140 characters (since expanded to 280 – which seems too short for some politicians).

In the end, what is the point of this post? Nothing much, really; just a desire to observe that I’ve been writing this blog sporadically for one-quarter of my life.

13 December 2020

The Kissing Bug

I was in scouting most of my childhood. We did a lot of activities, including spending weekends in Northern Arizona on nature outings for which my father was sometimes chaperone. During the winter, our troop would sell mistletoe for the season. To do this, our troop and some dads would go up into the Northern Arizona forests and find outcrops of parasitic mistletoe growing on trees. I have no photographs of my involvement in this, but I have lots of memories.

We had long pruning sticks that we would use to cut off bunches of mistletoe (no one was allowed to climb into the towering trees), gather them into bundles and then go home. This took a good part of the day. Next step was getting together to put small bunches of mistletoe into plastic bags. After that, we would pick a series of dates to sit outside grocery stores and sell these bags. I think they were priced at 25-cents each. We donated the proceeds to different charities over the years.

I remember being very enthusiastic about this project. It was fun harvesting the mistletoe, bagging it and selling it. My strongest memory of the project was how sticky my hands would get from the juice of the squished berries.