When I was so very younger and much more brash I held little regard for the opinions of the geriatric set.  My Chutzspa completely dismissive.  What could some old bag of bones possibly contribute to the amazing future that would be my life?  My arrogance prompting sneers of disrespect.  My hubris knew no bounds.  I missed out on a lot.

And now I am what my youth did poo poo.  With the perspective of six decades.  Man was I off base.  So much to know in this world.  So much to learn.  Every day added to your life’s tally should also include growth, intellectual and spiritual.

Here is one thing I have become certain of in this life.  I’m an heirloom runner.  Not the glossiest on the shelf.  Unpolished.  Doesn’t like to be handled much.  A few dimples and bumps and cracks and brusies.  And absolutely delicious!

An Old Running Soul.  A spirit imbues me.  Bestowed by those that came long, long before me.  Something has been passed down, I’ve accepted it with my whole life.

If we have a chance to meet and talk, listen closely.  I may be passing something along very special.


1) A piece of property that descends to the heir as an inseparable part of an inheritance.
2) Something of special value handed down from one generation to another
3)  a variety of plant that has originated under cultivation and that has survived for several generations usually due to the efforts of private individuals

These are the very best tasting tomatoes.  I’ve harvested seeds from a couple every year for the last five seasons.  And planted those.  Hoping to save the True  Variety.  The Real Variety.   The Heirloom.