Relandscaped, AGAIN?

I'm a semi-urban letterboxer. I live inside a city, but it's semi-suburban and semi-urban around here. It means that a lot of the parks where we choose to plant are city parks (I am a no-plant-on-private-land kind of a gal). Some of these parks have nature trails, but some don't. You have to be clever with your hides and go small. I'm not sure how successful I am at urban planting, but I try.

I'm pretty sanguine about the whole planting thing. I love to carve and I like planting. I like putting my little boxes out there, and I don't get too upset when they go missing. For some of them, there's a brief moment of silence, but usually a shrug of the shoulders will suffice. And then I try to figure out whether to recarve or not (usually not). I have a long list of boxes, probably 10-15, that have been lost to urban landscaping.

Currently, in the park near my house, they've had the community service folks or prisoners (they're wearing orange jumpsuits emblazoned with Department of Corrections) removing non-native plants. The park is becoming quite denuded. I applaud this effort ('bout time!), so I'm willing to sacrifice my Rabbit House box to their efforts.

Now, I've lost another one, my Calculator Games 2 box. I liked this one and thought the hide was pretty good. But, all the foliage around the gazebo was stripped...right along with my hiding spot. All-told, I just can't believe how often urban parks are relandscaped. I just don't think I paid attention to that before when I wasn't looking for spots to hide little boxes.

Goodbye Ruby

"There's no time to lose" I heard her say
Catch your dreams before they slip away

Last week, I learned that my dear friend Ruby Tuesday, part of the Celtic Lions crew, was entering the last phase of her life's grand adventure. Her husband let us know that she was in hospice and that her doctors said she just had days left. The end came on Friday, February 8. Ovarian cancer is a pernicious, horrible disease. This last bit hasn't been easy.

Don't question why she needs to be so free
She'll tell you it's the only way to be

Ruby was a force of nature. A truly sassy diva with a quick tongue and a quicker wit, you didn't want to be on her bad side. But, if you were on her good side, there was much joy and laughter. "Attention: Tupperware Tarts!" would come the email--with some other nonsense or crazy story, making sure that no one took the small stuff too seriously.

Behind that veneer of fun was a will of steel that compelled her to keep going. Going, through all that chemo and doctor's visits and setbacks and tiny triumphs. She'd offer us just small glimpses into that world of doctors and treatments and tests, but mainly, our troop of Texas moms (Mother of Five, Puddlesplasher & Viewfinder and I) served as laughing therapy. We kept it light. She'd disappear for a bit, with those bits getting longer and longer, but always she'd be back with another dry observation on the absurdity of life and others. That she won't be back with a witty pun or a zinger has devastated us all.

She just can't be chained to a
Life where nothing's gained and nothing's lost at such a cost

For me, she was a great mentor. At first, she answered all my questions about traditional and postal letterboxing, but then our conversations broadened to life in general. She was a veteran of the PTO wars, been through years of OM/DI and knew quite a bit about raising out-of-the-box kids as well. I often say that she helped me learn how to raise sons and raise a ruckus at the same time, and my life has been much, much richer for it. Somehow, through sheer will, she managed to make it for major milestones in her boys' lives--graduations & weddings--making wedding favors and offering encouragement--a one-woman cheering section for her family.

Lose your dreams and you will lose your mind
Ain't life unkind?
Goodbye Ruby Tuesday, who could hang a name on you?
When you change...

Ruby was as creative as you'd expect. Although she'd usually draft her son to do the carving, she was an expert at gluing and transforming logbooks into stunning works of art. A postal from her was a treat for the senses. And several of her traditional boxes--the meese and the Scarlet Pimpernel--have been some of the highlights of my boxing days. Letterboxing was just a small part of who Ruby was. But, it was the window through which I got to know her. And as her boxes live on, I hope others will get to experience a bit of her too.

Peace my friend. And for those you leave behind.

...Still, I'm gonna miss you...