A Heart Full of Thanks

Oh, the thanks I could think, and the thanks I could say!

For the wonderful people who brightened my day.

The first one is Lori, my wife, sweet and true,

Who knows just the thing and knows just what to do.

She whipped up a feast with a smile and a sigh,

With corn on the cob and a steak cooked “On the Fly!”

My neighbor, Steve, with a mischievous gleam,

Said, “No fence work today! No work, it would seem!

You’ll paint with some water, some colors so bright,

And sign your new painting with all of your might!"

I laughed and I said, “But I don’t know that skill!

I’ll slap on some paint and see what sticks still!”

Then there’s my friends on the Facebook machine,

The best group of readers that ever was seen!

They read all my blogs and they hear my podcasts,

They send all their cheer that's built to last!

And Billy and Linda.

A Snoopy card in the mail.

A wonderful surprise that was sure to prevail!

From very good friends, a delightful new tale!

But the thanks didn't stop, no, not even a bit!

For James and for Merrill, who just wouldn't quit!

“It’s your birthday again!” they both shouted, “Hooray!

Let’s have a barbecue the very next day!”

Oh, the people I've met, all so kind and so grand,

From here to there, all over this fine land.

What makes them so giving? What makes them so keen?

To be the best friends that have ever been seen?

My thanks to you all for the love that you've shown,

For the seeds of pure joy that you've heartily sown!

I’m Patrick Ball. Stay curious, ask questions, and always hold onto the power of love and friendship. See you in the next episode!

Comments

Don Hanley said…

Beautiful sentiments and delightful poetry - thank you!!

August 17, 2025 at 9:45 AM

Sunflowers, French Steel, and the Yellow Jersey

Watching Le Tour de France this year, I found myself transported back to August 1983 as the Peloton in Stage 10, Bastille Day, flowed through the French countryside like a brightly colored ribbon. I was in my twenties, visiting family in the Charente-Maritime region of France, completely obsessed with bicycle racing—and convinced I was much stronger than I was. My connection to cycling—and to France—runs deep. I was born in France, and my very first real road bike, at age fifteen, was a Mercier . To me, it wasn’t just a bicycle; it was a work of art made from beautiful French steel. I rode that bike for miles, through high school, into college, and until the day someone decided they needed it more than I did. I hope they at least appreciated the craftsmanship. Its untimely disappearance led me to a Schwinn Voyageur, and later, when I started racing around Illinois, to a Raleigh Competition . But during that summer of ’83, while staying with my Uncle Jean Paul in Lagord, just north of L...

The Yellow Legal Pad

In this episode, the Art of Refiring July 1st is staring me in the face, less than two weeks away. For years, retirement seemed like something that happened to other people. Suddenly, it's on my calendar. I've been thinking a lot about the dreaded "R-word" lately. Not because I'm worried about having enough to do. Quite the opposite. What fascinates me is this strange paradox: Why does retirement make so many of us nervous, while having a job—even one that regularly drives us crazy—somehow feels comforting? Let's be honest. Most of us spend years complaining about meetings that should have been emails, reply-all disasters, impossible deadlines, and that one coworker who insists on microwaving leftover fish in the breakroom. Yet when the idea of walking away finally arrives, we hesitate. I think I've figured out why. A career isn't just a job. It's a highly structured coping mechanism. For forty-plus years, somebody else has basically decided what I...

The Big Rip and the First Tee

The telescope (Celestron) sits quietly under its cover, temporarily blinded by Southern California's annual meteorological hostage situation – June Gloom. Somewhere above that thick gray ceiling, photons that began their journey before humans appeared are streaming across the cosmos, only to be intercepted by a marine layer that seems to have veto power over astronomy. Instead of observing the universe, I find myself imagining – The End of Everything (Astrophysically Speaking) by physicist Katie Mack. According to modern cosmology, the universe may eventually end in a Big Rip, a Big Crunch, Heat Death, Vacuum Decay, or some other catastrophe that sounds suspiciously like a rejected heavy-metal album title. Astrophysicists spend their careers calmly discussing the possibility that reality itself could suddenly cease to exist because a quantum field had a bad day. It's a remarkable way to start a Saturday morning. One moment you're contemplating the ultimate fate of spacetime...

Rediscovering the Magic of Summer . . .

Summer mornings, especially on a holiday weekend, have a special magic. The air is cool, the world quiet, and the day full of possibilities. This July 4th weekend, Lori and I decided to capture a bit of that magic by beating the holiday traffic with an early morning bicycle ride. We went through our usual pre-flight checklist: Stretched out the morning stiffness. Filled the water bottles. Strapped on the helmets. Checked the tires. Three tires passed inspection. The fourth had apparently declared independence. The rear tire on my e-bike was flatter than a Kansas highway. “Well, it looks like we’re not riding today,” Lori said, with the calm acceptance of someone who had already mentally promoted coffee to the day’s main event. “Why not?” I replied. “I’ll ride my old bike.” She gave me that look —the one that safely translates as, "Are you sure about this? " “Absolutely,” I said. “Why not?” I dragged the bike stand out and surveyed my options. One glance at the aggressive gear...

On The Fly

Search This Blog