Opinions

The game cam caught this big guy in the backyard enjoying the corn we put out in our feeder. We occasionally see them during the day from the back porch but not often so it’s great to have eyes at night through another lens.

In seeing the buck and other deer on the game cam and on a camping trip we took over Labor Day weekend, it got me thinking about a phrase involving the buck from decades ago.

When President Harry S. Truman added the plaque to his desk at the Whitehouse that read “the buck stops here,” I wonder how many read it and took the words to heart?

In watching or reading the news these days, it seems we never fail to learn that someone has blamed others for their lack of success, their lack of commitment, their inability to keep their word, etc. From elected officials and celebrities to law breakers and company CEO’s and even others we see every day at work or elsewhere, no one seems to want to accept what happens because of their actions or the lack thereof.

Who wants to admit their failures and bad decisions? I certainly don’t but it’s really more of an internal battle for me rather than a worry about the consequences. I have certainly had to deal with decisions I didn’t like but I survived, far better than I thought I would.

It makes us feel uncomfortable to admit a decision was ours and we fear people will judge us for it. It seems easier to run away or cast blame on others, creating a smoke screen, rather than own up to something that didn’t work out the way we thought it would.

It’s easy to own our successes but owning our failures, not so much. If we can overcome the fear of the consequences we could face, we can get through it. And, yes, some of those fears might become reality, depending on what we’ve done. People might judge us, we might lose a friend, we might not get reelected, but we will know that the buck stopped with us.

Once we do own it, we give ourselves a chance to show our leadership, our courage and our ability to honor the word we gave in the first place. And maybe, just maybe, we’ll better understand how applying “the buck stops here” to our lives could be one of the most important things we ever do.

“A British porch is a musty, forbidding non-room in which to fling a sodden umbrella or a muddy pair of boots; a guard against the elements and strangers. By contrast the good ol’ American front porch seems to stand for positivity and openness; a platform from which to welcome or wave farewell; a place where things of significance could happen.” – Dan Stevens

Having lived in more than 20 cities and towns in my life, mostly in Texas, I’ve had many interesting conversations on porches. Some were heartwrenching and others lighthearted. I recently returned from a conference where the presenter, Roy Spence, talked about The Promisedland Project, and America’s new front porch. I’ve heard many motivational speakers in my life. While Mr. Spence may not bill himself as such, he certainly inspired me. I may not touch as many people as he can, it is my hope this blog provokes thought and maybe even action for those who choose to follow along.

I decided to call this first post, Remember to breathe, because I occasionally find myself guilty of going and going without taking the time to do just that. I don’t consider myself to be a workaholic, just a hard worker. I do take time off. In fact, in 2016, I took an entire year with my husband and our two dogs to live as Eccentric Nomads and see the southwest in an RV, but that’s another story.

As for the name of my blog, since I’m a southern girl and Native Texan, I decided veranda has a sexier sound than porch but for my purposes, the names are interchangeable. The word “views” has a double meaning for me, too. As an amateur photographer, I plan to share the literal views from the veranda, whether from the three I have at home or from others I have the good fortune to sit on in the future. I should add that our home is not grandiose with sweeping verandas. It’s 1,800 square feet with small front and back porches. The third porch is from a he-shed my husband built that happens to also have a porch.

So occasionally, I’ll share a nice photo of what I can see from the porch, like this recent view of the clothesline my husband made for me so we could have line-dried sheets and towels throughout the year.

So here I sit on the back porch with a view of said clothesline, mesquite trees and bird feeders in the backyard, listening to the neighbor’s rooster crow, which happens all day and not just at sunrise, in case you’ve been told otherwise. I hear the cicadas in the distance and get an occasional glimpse of hummingbirds, when they take the time to stop and drink from the feeders hanging just a few feet away. A wasp and bee have decided I’m not a threat so they are hanging out on my table as I type, until they get tired of the pecking of my keyboard and fly off for other adventures. I can even see dung beetles rolling their finds from our dogs to some unknown location I choose not to explore. I suppose purpose is purpose, no matter what it might be.

Today is just an introduction. Should you choose to follow along with me on this journey, I hope we are able to find some hope, reason and common ground as we discuss the various topics, both comfortable and uncomfortable, of life. I have no interest in bickering with anyone, just having a conversation and seeing where we can go from there. Join me virtually or, if you’re ever in my neck of the woods in Texas, maybe we can have a glass of sweet iced tea in the spring and summer or a cup of coffee or cocoa in the fall and winter. If you have a hankerin’ for something stronger, I’m sure we can manage that, too. And if you’re open to sharing our conversation, I’d love to bring in your thoughts on this blog, whether in written or video form. In the meantime, make sure you take the time to breathe.