On Our Way

We’re off.  The picture is us at Dulles airport around 6 am this morning on the first leg of our journey. Since we’re traveling with only what we can carry ourselves the luggage you see is what there is.  We’re on our way to Portland, OR to visit our newest granddaughter, Etta and of course her parents.  We’ll be staying with our terrific co-inlaws Dennis and Crystal Herbert who graciously open their home to us whenever we’re in Portland.  We’re so fortunate that not only did our children choose wonderful mates, but they’ve also enriched our life by widening our family circle with warm and loving people.  We’ll spend a couple of days in Portland visiting.

Assorted musings:

I was re-reading Herodotus the other day and came across the following story.  Loosely paraphrased it was as follows.  Once there was a king who had three sons.  When they were young they played, and hunted and studied together, but with no clear path to what they would do as they achieved adulthood. 

One day the gods dropped four golden objects to the ground in a clearing near  a woods.   They included a golden axe, a golden goblet and two other items.  The townspeople who saw the items fall ran to tell the palace of what had happened.  In due time the three sons of the king appeared to see what had happened.  They were surely a portent, but of what.  The eldest son stepped forward to pick up the items but when he did a ring of fire appeared around the golden objects and he fell back, unable to grasp them.  The second son then tried but he too was unsuccessful.  Then the youngest said to his brothers that he would try but perhaps there was a magic spell preventing them from taking the objects. 

But when he reached for them no fire appeared and he easily picked up all four golden objects.   The brothers returned home with the youngest carrying the golden objects and he presented them to the king.  At that the king decreed that the youngest would become the king and the two older brothers left the kingdom to make their way in the world. 

The youngest son became the founder of Scythia and the Scythians were one of brave Greek tribes that fought and defeated the Persians. 

I thought of this story when my grandson Quinn called to wish me bon voyage the night before we left Washington, DC.  Quinn is, of course, the youngest of three children but his future will be as bright as the youngest son in Herodotus’ story.