Saturday, August 17, 2013

8/17/13-Triffles

                                                               Triffles
                                             Elizabeth Flesher
My Grandma always told me that “triffles make perfection, but perfection is no triffle.” Her words embrace my mind as I reflect the past week. I use to think triffles were small tasks of getting homework done, doing household tasks and going to work. The word means much more to me now. It’s about not giving up when the going gets tough. A good meal after a long hard day. Working with each other, not as individuals, but as a team. Learning to listen, and when to talk. Learning to think on our own and persevering through the hard times. ECOEE 2013 has experienced many triffles this week.
            Today is our first day of rest as we await the upcoming voyage down the Grass River in Manitoba. I sit here reflecting on the past week and looking at the week to come. We will be experiencing life in a new form…..simple. We will no longer be able to check the weather, we will no longer be able to talk to others miles away with a click of a button, we will no longer be able to go to a restaurant and order a cheeseburger. Technology will no longer be a form of knowledge. It’s a surreal feeling.
            The triffles ahead will be many and the perfections will be few. Every day will be challenging and push us to the limits; emotionally, physically, and socially.
            “There is a place where the sidewalk ends And before the street begins, And there the grass grows soft and white, And there the sun burns crimson bright, And there the moon-bird rests from his flight To cool in the peppermint wind. Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black And the dark street winds and bends. Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And watch where the chalk-white arrows go To the place where the sidewalk ends. Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go, For the children, they mark, and the children, they know The place where the sidewalk ends.”- Silverstein

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