Those 70ish Girls

MG and Lav have both written an example of their bravery…They have been brave so many times in their lives that it was hard to narrow it down to one example each, but they did their best.

MG

I suppose there is a fine line that separates bravery from stupidity. I know a few friends of mine sometimes wonder which side of the line my activities fall on. I try not to think about it. I just forge ahead.

Kip and I were driving somewhere a few short months ago and we saw a big RV driving in the lane beside us. We could see the driver and his wife. They looked totally relaxed and were smiling ear to ear. They were on their way to see some friends they hadn’t seen in years. The driver was the best man at his friend’s wedding twenty years before. The couple planned to go to one of the state parks and maybe Yellowstone on the way. They could go wherever the winds blew them.

How do I know all this, you ask? I don’t, but I know how we feel when we’re rolling down the highway. When Kip saw the big RV, he made the comment that he wished we were on a trip. I said if I had my way, we would sell our house and be full time RVers. Kip waited a New York second before saying, “Let’s do it!”

We listed our house and began to go through all of our “stuff.” Where in the world did all the “stuff” come from? Our garage became packed full of “stuff,” and we’re talking about a garage that holds 2 cars and a 39 ft motor home, not to mention one of every tool made for man plus one riding lawn mower and 2 walk behinds. Of course I did have a few small collectibles in my cottage.

Anyway, it’s all been pretty overwhelming. I’m expecting a lengthy note of gratitude from our kids thanking us for taking care of the “stuff” and remembering that you can’t take “stuff” with you.

To make a long story longer, I’ll just finish this by saying these two BRAVE souls are hitting the road next week. We’ll wave to all of those less brave folks we pass on the highway. We’ll probably see them again one day at Yellowstone National Park.

Lav

There definitely is a fine line or maybe a fat line that separates bravery from stupidity. One thing means a brave deed or action has been done and the other means a dumb deed or action has happened. People react to both these differently. And as I thought about this assignment my cousin had given us, I came up with brave things other people and even a dog had accomplished.  

My husband was brave beyond words in 1975 when we lived in a remote area south of Big Sur, California. We were at a deserted beach swimming after teaching that day. Incorrectly assuming this beach was like beautiful serene Southern California beaches were, we swam out in the Pacific and immediately realized we were caught in undertow – the current was dragging us farther and farther out. I tried to swim to shore, which you’re never supposed to do , and soon was exhausted and ready to go under,  swallowing more and more salt water. Ken swam parallel to shore and got in where he was safe and at the edge of the water. He looked at me flailing now about 12 feet away and swam back out grabbing me and soon with barely a toehold in the sand, pushed himself off, he pulled me along swimming strongly without thinking of himself.  Simply put, I owed him my life. That was love.

Another act of bravery I experienced was also near Big Sur. A loverly Yellow Labrador we were watching for a friend for six months was out in the yard at our cabin we rented. This cabin was 30 minutes up a dirt road and had no electricity nor phone. 

We heard the eeriest sound of a growling kind of catlike screaming and looked out our window to see Nyra, the Lab, chasing a huge mountain lion out of our yard. She had no fear and even though much smaller, she bravely bared her teeth and ran after the big cat. That was love. 

I have done many stupid things but maybe I have been  brave, too. Just living in a remote area in the mountains of California might count. No, on second thought, I don’t think I crossed the thin or fat line … yet. 

I will add a picture of the remote cabin where we lived…