It’s weird

It’s weird…last year I had tons of stuff to talk about.  I had projects and ramblings and thoughts (yes, I even had thoughts…but that was last year).  This year, I feel busier than ever but I have nothing to show for it…or nothing interesting anyhow.  My days are consumed by that pesky work thing and my evenings are taken up with kids’ practices of various sorts and the remodeling of our house.

I dig remodeling the house…mainly because of all the money I save and because I can do it right, but it’s so uninteresting.  I suppose I could post pictures of the new board I just installed or pictures of the paint drying, but I think that might not be much fun.  Don’t get me wrong, I love to watch paint dry (or is it that I like the fumes?), but it’s hard to capture that delight on film.

Although things seem less interesting blogaliciously speaking, I think I am more pleased with the large scale tinkering rather than the small scale tinkering this year.  I sort of feel like an exhibitionist (no comments) sharing all sorts of stuff on here…and enjoying it.  But since I feel like I have less to say, I wonder if I have gotten more boring or if I just ran out of crap to brag about.  Anyone ever feel like that?  I mean, when I go to the Y to exercise, the old men there lead me to think that they are more into “openness” rather than being closed off (for the love of pete…close your towel…or even more importantly, wear one when you sit on the chairs in the locker room reading the newspaper for half an hour), so I don’t think I am all of a sudden getting shy…maybe just boring.

Well, enough of my rambling…do you folks like to watch paint dry…or have you seen yourself change as time goes by?

I swore…

When we were first married, we declared, as self-righteous, young, newlywed folks often do, that we would live our lives differently than folks who are so busy they don’t have time to sit down and enjoy the good stuff of life.  We swore we would not do what other people do.  When the kids were younger, we had little trouble in keeping their time free for things they wanted to do.  Most of what we did was about what they wanted to do for fun, which happened to line up with the whole “live simply” thing I had in mind.  They played outside on the swings and rode bikes.  It was so simple and perfect.

Of course, they are getting older and are influenced by all sorts of things around them.  They still like to play outside and ride bikes, but now they also want to take lessons…taekwondo and aikido and ice skating and violin and archery and soccer.  We are becoming scheduled.  At first, I was sort of irritated about it and thought that we surely must be ruining our kids by running them all over creation to do this and that.  But now that we’ve been at it for a little while, I look at it differently.  Just as it was about what the kids wanted to do for fun, so it is now.  Fun is just different.

To be sure, I definitely think that kids and parents can become over-scheduled and over-stressed, but I think if the cards are played right (as I hope we are doing), being involved is an opportunity for kids to explore.  It’s not exploring like they did in the back yard, but it is exploring the world in a way.  Taekwondo is taught by a Korean master.  Soccer is coached by a former professional player from the African continent.  They are finding what they like and don’t like but they are also seeing a larger world while they are at it.

When I think about it, I enjoy seeing the kids explore and learn and grow.  We still play together, albeit differently.  We can laugh and talk and enjoy things…just different things than just the back yard.  So, in a way, I sort of long for “just the back yard” but it is thrilling to also be a part of all of us going “out there” too.

So what about it…do you enjoy kids’ activities or is it too much?  What sorts of things do your people do?

Soles 4 Souls

We braved the cold and snow this weekend to go to church as we do most weeks.  We were pretty proud of ourselves for being among the hearty few who risked life and limb to get to the church a few minutes early so I could hit the pile of donuts before all of the kids ran their somewhat less than germ-free fingers all over the pile.  It felt like pretty much every other church service at River Ridge.  I don’t mean to say that church is boring exactly…but it is usually pretty comfortable and predictable.  We do contemporary music exclusively and it is well done.  As KISS says, if it’s too loud, you’re too old…that definitely applies to River Ridge.  But church is comfortable and easy most weeks.

Anyhow, after the singing and such, I settled in to listen to the preacher talk.  I had a belly full of donuts so I felt pretty content.  He gave his sermon which centered around the idea of doing something radical to make a difference.  Now everyone says that in church.  And in most typical churches, if anything at all comes from it, radical means something like clapping to the beat during a song or maybe someone swaying a bit or even giving an “Amen”.

But at the end, the preacher did something a little different (which is typical at our church).  He told everyone about an organization called Soles4Souls which collects new and gently used shoes for people living in impoverished areas who may not have shoes.  And then, he asked us, if we felt so moved, to leave our shoes in the barrels at the outer doors.  No one knew in advance so folks had their normal shoes on (not old clunkers).  His point was that giving your shoes, whatever shoes you had on, was radical at first blush, but in the grand scheme of things, a small gesture for most people.  But the impact it could have in the lives of other people could be enormous.

I had my very nearly brand new tennis shoes on and Abigail had on her favorite cowboy boots.  I have to tell you, at first, I really wished I had worn a different pair of shoes, but as I thought about it, I am pretty glad I wore my new ones.  I don’t care who you are or what you believe or don’t believe, if you take a moment to think about it, giving your shoes away changed a life for the better somewhere in the world and that makes it worth doing.

So, we left our shoes and walked across the parking lot barefoot in 16 degree cold…and we got a lesson, albeit a brief one, in what it might be like for someone if we hadn’t given our shoes.  What seemed so radical at first, really was such a simple thing…

edit:  Some more details

I am Apple (or my experience with several Apple products)

So, I have become “that guy”. You know, the guy with the phone the size of an old-fashioned walk-man cassette player, strapped to his belt.  I am that guy who walks with a funny gait because the extra weight of the thing has totally rearranged his spinal column.  I bought an Apple iPhone and it is currently strapped to my hip.  Yes, I know, you thought I was so hip that I already had one of these modern miracles.  But actually, I have always been a phone-luddite.  Some friends have shamed me into entering the modern wireless age and I have to tell you, I am already hooked!  Yes, three days in and I am hooked!

I am "that guy"

I set up connections to Facebook and to this blog, to my personal and work emails and my personal connection to Barry Manilow’s fan club is in progress.  I can find the closest dollar store wherever I am driving and it will even allow me to text silly stuff to my wife annoying her greatly!  It’s genius!

Being the benevolent husband that I am, Emily also got a new iPhone and, while she doesn’t have a connection to Barry Manilow, I think she is just as excited to be able to check her lotto numbers and order more kippered herring at the touch of a button from wherever she is!

My Macbook running the Mac OS

I got a macbook awhile earlier also.  I have been tinkering with writing iPhone apps for awhile but I have always had to “try them out” on the emulator that comes with the development tools.  I earn my living writing software on Microsoft Windows machines right now, so I will always be prone to Windows evangelism, but the mac is a lot of fun and may make me a little more “computer-religious-war” tolerant.

Now, then topping to all of this is that I absolutely hate the touch of my new HP laptop.  Most keyboards have a certain feel to them and one can get used to them pretty quickly.  Even so, the differences are typically minor.  Laptops take some getting used to but they typically are “do-able” as well, but this new HP is awful.  To register key strikes, one needs to absolutely pound the keys.  With the amount of time I spend on computers, I need to be able to touch a keyboard and move on.  I do not need to get finger calisthenics each day as I try to do my job.

Windows XP running in a virtual machine on my Macbook

Now the mac laptop, on the other hand, has a  brilliant touch.  It’s sort of like giving my fingers a massage each time I type on it.  Imagine the possibilities then, of running Microsoft software on my Mac…and it is possible.  I bought a copy of VMWare Fusion which allows one to install any operating system into a “virtual space” while running the Mac operating system at the same time.  I was skeptical at first, but I am now a believer.  I installed Windows XP and all of my database and development tools and it runs brilliantly!  I can share folders between my Mac desktop and my XP desktop.  I can print and hit the Internet and do absolutely anything I can with a typical XP machine.  The coolest part is that I can switch between Mac and XP instantly…both systems are running simultaneously!

Don’t tell my wife, but I think I am in love.  I am Apple!

(but don’t worry Microsoft, I still love you too…I swing like that!)

Hair? On Warren?

I haven’t needed a haircut since 1996. I hadn’t paid for one for several years prior to that but, in 1996, I shaved my head and started to build the empire that is “Warren” today.  Hair and the idea of hair have both always sort of eluded me and been a bit of a question in my atrophied brain…what is the point of hair anyhow? I get by without it quite nicely. In fact, I am more aerodynamic that most hair-endowed folks (I like to call that a hair disability). Hair is just such a nuisance…you have to style it and dry it and cut it and if you wear a crash helmet, you have to worry about helmet head. I just don’t get hair.

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Although I don’t get hair, I do get people – and that, friends, is why I program computers. Anyhow, my dear brother, who always had a full mop of hair, has a tradition where he doesn’t shave between Thanksgiving and Christmas. In the time between Christmas and New Year’s Day, he shaves his face-mane in parts, each day leaving an interesting facial-hair style (see some of the possibilities).  Since I get people, I know that he must feel conspicuous being the only one in our family to participate.  This year, being the kind and gentle brother that I am, I have decided to take part in the tradition as well.  I stopped shaving on Thanksgiving and have been growing this luxurious  set of whiskers since.  You can see the reverse progression up through yesterday.  The white stuff you see on my chin is not gray hair…no, no, friends, that is snow that got stuck in my beard while I was sled riding with the kids.  I am nowhere near old enough to have gray hair…losing my hair is one thing, but gray hair?  I think not!

So, what about it folks?  Do you have funny traditions?  Do you grow a beard?

It’s Traditional

As Christmas approaches, we prepare, as most parents do, to pass along Christmas to our kids.  I suppose it sounds a bit odd to pass on Christmas, but the season is typically so complex for most families that I do not think that any other words describe what we do.  When I was a kid, it seemed as if we prepared for Christmas for months.  In elementary school, we glued together enormous paper chains that wound all through our classroom and into the halls.

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I grew up in Pennsylvania near Lake Erie so we usually got snow early and heavy.  In my memory, almost every Christmas was a white Christmas.  Sometimes, it seemed as if we had a white Halloween.  Anyhow, the buildup to Christmas to my child-eyes was immense and exciting and just as it was supposed to be according to all of the Christmas carols, which of course, we listened too all of the time.

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At home, we strung together strings of popcorn and cranberries to wind around our Christmas tree.  We threw way too much tinsel all over the tree and made every type of cookie imaginable.  I remember picking different varieties of cookies from a large black water-bath canner which was packed full of cookies (talk about a dream cookie jar!).

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On Christmas Eve, my family went to my aunt and uncle’s house where our family gathered for what seemed like a fairly formal meal (though, as I now think back on it, the meal was not formal, just different from what we normally did at home).  My brother and I ate every last bit of candy we could find laying around in the numerous candy dishes around the house.  The meal seemed to never end as we anticipated opening the large pile of gifts that were always under the tree.

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Once we finally got home, we hurried off to bed so Santa could come.  The rule in our house was that no one could leave their bedroom until 6am.  I truly do not know how we survived the time between waking and 6am.  Surely a cosmic quantum time shift happened which caused time to slow to 1/20th normal speed.  Anyhow, we raced to the living room to see what was under the tree.  It’s funny but Santa never wrapped our presents.  I don’t think my brother and I ever noticed that Mom and Dad never gave us presents…all the presents were from Santa.

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So, flash forward to now.  My wife, of course, had her own set of traditions in her growing up.  When we married, it was not terribly hard to merge our traditions, but when our children were born, the traditions we established as a family seemed to take on incredible importance.  I know the kids will not turn into serial killers or hermits or <gasp> politicians if we don’t get our tradition just right, but I do believe it is important to keep the kids out of politics…I mean, help the kids look back on their childhoods with fondness.

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At first, we tried to mix the traditions with which my wife and I were raised.  It just didn’t work.  And, though it took some time to figure out, we realized that the traditions we impart to our kids have to be wholly ours….MY family’s traditions, not the traditions of my parents or my wife’s parents.  So, while I have such wonderful memories of the traditions surrounding the celebration of the Christmases of my childhood, I think that the responsibility to impart such memories to my children is even more special to me.  So, while the traditional things we each do to celebrate Christmas is special and important, I think the more important tradition is having traditions and seeing those traditions come alive in the eyes and hearts of our children.

So, what are your traditions?  How do you ‘do’ the holidays?  Of course, my take here was Christmas related, bt I am curious about how folks do Hanukkah or whatever holiday you may celebrate in your home too!

I wrote this post for Not Dabbling in Normal where I occasionally post, but I felt like it was appropriate for here as well…

I got the fever

I don’t know what sort of funk I have (as I haven’t been to see a doctor), but I can tell you that all of my homemade remedies have done nothing to abate this rotten virus I have.  I mean, I went above and beyond the call with my 1st remedy and though I slept pretty well, I didn’t feel the least bit better in the morning.

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Anyhow, if anyone has any other suggestions on how to exorcise this junk from my body, please leave a suggestion.  I am not opposed to leaches and/or sacrificing a chicken….

The End of the Innocence

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I am really struggling with something and, honestly, it has been a long time coming and probably should have happened awhile ago. Isaac is in fourth grade and still very innocent and naive. That is changing as the kids in his class are getting older, but he remains a very sweet boy and so absolutely and wonderfully innocent. I would keep him that way forever, I often think, but I know that neither he nor I really want that. But there is something so pure looking into his eyes and hearing him talk. I truly want to cry when I think of the end of his innocence.

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I am not sure when I learned the truth about Old Saint Nick. I am pretty sure I knew in second grade. Isaac truly still plans to ask Santa for things this Christmas. In many ways, I would love to allow him to believe one more year (or ten more), but I feel like we need to bring him in on the secret. I know that fourth grade is when kids start to pick on each other relentlessly. I struggle between wanting to preserve a bit of his innocence a little while longer versus not wanting him to lose some of his innocence through teasing and bullying. And this, dear friends, is what makes me want to cry.

EST

I hate Eastern Standard Time.  It sucks and it screws me up every year.  I don’t mind going to work in the dark.  I go there to sleep anyhow so I don’t see the problem.  When I come home, however, I want it to be light out!  I NEED it to be light out.

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(typical winter)

You see, this isn’t a small thing to me.  I hate winter.  I grew up in the snow belt in PA off of Lake Erie.  We got tons of snow when I was a kid.  We played in the snow every day.  We skied and snowmobiled and wrote our names in the snow. We ate snow (never yellow snow), we drank snow…snow was our life.  When I was a kid, I enjoyed the snow.  But, despite what Emily says, I am an adult now.  I am so over snow and cold and winter.  There is just nothing at all good about it.

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(this is one of our kids stuck in the snow but I don’t know which)

My people all try to say that I am a Northern boy and that I should embrace my inner Yeti.  Of course, I remind them that I spent the first year of my life in the South and the 20 after I left home in the South.  I am a Southern boy.  We like warm down here y’all…and we like sun and warm and sweet tea and warm.

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(clearly the snow limited sunlight have made her crazy)

So, Eastern Standard Time, or EST as the abbreviators like to say, means the end of summer and light and heat to me.  It screws me up every year, but fear not…when we return to Eastern Daylight Time, or the Right Time as I like to call it, I will return to being civil and human and nice.

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(a moment of weakness…me about to sled-ride…but see…it’s dark)

I guess I am not much of a Yeti any more…more like a warm-weather, shaved but still incredibly handsome BigFoot…

Anyhow, how does the time change effect you?  Do you like the evil Winter or do you prefer the magnificent Summer?  Have you ever seen Bigfoot?

Limerick Thursday

So, I am sitting in Panera this morning contemplating life and enjoying a Cinnamon Crunch (â„¢) bagel. I have to go finish fixing up an unfortunate pickle/kitchen drain incident but I need some motivation.  I decided that a limerick might put me in the proper mood to do manual labor.  Most limericks are crude, and although I typically appreciate such humor, I will not share any of those here.  Instead, I will write an inspiring ditty to motivate and educate…

My house is so old that it creaks
Many of  its pipes have clogs or  leaks
so when disposing of food
check on his mood
for your husband’s blood pressure may peak!

Oh, oh…here’s another one I just came up with…

Never put pickles down the drain and cause the dispose-all  to strain
better to feed to the dog
than to cause such a clog
and make you clean up a pickley rain!

By the way, this is a limerick that makes me laugh.  Its author is unknown but hilarious I think:
There was a young man from Japan
Whose limericks never would scan.
When asked why this was,
He replied “It’s because
I always try to fit as many syllables into the last line as ever possibly I can.”

So, do you have any G or PG-rated limericks you care to share? Haikus are welcome too. Got any good plumbing stories to make me feel better?  Want to buy my house?