The Saturday before Christmas I woke up. I showered, got dressed and sat down to my morning coffee and newspaper. During the course of my second cup I read my horoscope. I will paraphrase it here as follows:
"Your partner may not seem able to get up and go this morning. Try to encourage them to pick up the pace. It might be tempting to let them rest while you take up the slack, but you are not a team if you do all the work. Work on your motivational skills. They will respect you for having the right priorities."
I then read my wife's horoscope:
"If you feel like you are in the thick of things, you are right. But the good news is, you are the calm of the storm, the place where everything is quiet and serene. Of course, the time is coming soon when you will be forced to take to your shelter and hide out from the tumult around you. Resist the urge to fight back or brave the harsh elements. You need to live by the motto of 'safety first' if you want to get through the action without any stress. "
I saw these two horoscopes as two opposing views. My wife said it sounded like Christmas shopping. I gave up and ignored my horoscope. I kind of got the feeling that the stars were trying to pick a fight between my wife and myself.
We went shopping the next day. We went our own separate ways and were done by 11PM. She was done, I went out on Monday. It is kind of a tradition for me. I believe shopping on Monday takes all the 'shopping' or decisions out of it. Basically, everything is by then all picked over and you just take what is left. No decisions. They are already made for you. Just pick up what is left and you are done. Real easy.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Some late night ramblings
Sandy Cash's cover of Peter Jones's "Kilkelly"
I remember the first time I heard the song. It is such a hauntingly beautiful song. It tears at my heart every time I hear it. Sandy Cash is such a talented singer. But this song is just such a beautiful story. So wonderfully written that I can picture the 40 years that it covers.
I was listening to it tonight and then I got distracted to other similar songs. Before I knew it I was here for an hour. But I find that this music lifts my spirit. I started listening to some other favorites. But I came back to "kilkelly". It reminds me of the importance of family. And it reminded me of something I wrote a few years ago about my family and our reunions. I will add that here:
"From a little ball of twine.
Every five years or so my family has a reunion. A lot of families do that. My dad had 5 brothers and 5 sisters. I have 18 aunts and uncles. Through the course of lives and deaths, I also have 38 cousins and 7 step cousins. And, of course, I am related to all their kids. I will not bore you with any more numbers. When we get together, there are a lot of us. At the last reunion we had over 130 attendees. And this is only part of the family.
We have a lot of fun at our reunions. But the most fun we have is the traditional rope making contest. My dad and his siblings grew up during the depression and on the farm they couldn't always afford new rope each season. During the winter it would not get used much and would dry out. So every year they had a need for new rope. My dad told me that they would lay the rope out in front of the barn in kind of a basket. On that basket they would stack hay and then using a pulley system to hoist that hay into the barn. They always needed rope of various lengths.
Over the course of the years the family has actually found several depression era rope machines. These machines are hand held machines and take several people to operate. One person is the cranker. He sits at one end and turns the handle. There is also a person at the other end who holds the end of the rope around a holder shaped like a 'Y'. Depending on the length of the rope, anywhere from 5 to 10 people would stand along the length of the rope to make sure that the errant strands of twine do not get tangled.
Unfortunately, I don't have one of those machines. I have been looking. I will try to describe it. On the fixed end, attached to the crank are the gears and essentially four claws. On the other end is the handle. The twine from which the rope is made, is wrapped around the handle and then stretched to the other end and wrapped around a claw on the fixed end. This is repeated until the desired thickness of the rope is achieved. When the twine is attached it is tied off and then the cranking begins.
It is really quite a process. The cranker starts turning the handle and the strands of twine start twist and to tighten up. The ten, or so, people along the line keep the errant strands from tangling up with each other. Once the strands of twine are tightly wound the actual twisting of the rope takes place and the guy at the end slowly starts to walk to the crank, twisting the strands of twine into a rope as he goes.
Our reunions are very structured and we usually reserve two afternoons for the making of rope. We can make about 15 ropes in an afternoon. We make sure that anyone who wants a rope gets one. The last reunion that we went to my daughter got a jump rope and I got this one. It is the one event that I really look forward to at our reunions."
Good night for now.
D.
I remember the first time I heard the song. It is such a hauntingly beautiful song. It tears at my heart every time I hear it. Sandy Cash is such a talented singer. But this song is just such a beautiful story. So wonderfully written that I can picture the 40 years that it covers.
I was listening to it tonight and then I got distracted to other similar songs. Before I knew it I was here for an hour. But I find that this music lifts my spirit. I started listening to some other favorites. But I came back to "kilkelly". It reminds me of the importance of family. And it reminded me of something I wrote a few years ago about my family and our reunions. I will add that here:
"From a little ball of twine.
Every five years or so my family has a reunion. A lot of families do that. My dad had 5 brothers and 5 sisters. I have 18 aunts and uncles. Through the course of lives and deaths, I also have 38 cousins and 7 step cousins. And, of course, I am related to all their kids. I will not bore you with any more numbers. When we get together, there are a lot of us. At the last reunion we had over 130 attendees. And this is only part of the family.
We have a lot of fun at our reunions. But the most fun we have is the traditional rope making contest. My dad and his siblings grew up during the depression and on the farm they couldn't always afford new rope each season. During the winter it would not get used much and would dry out. So every year they had a need for new rope. My dad told me that they would lay the rope out in front of the barn in kind of a basket. On that basket they would stack hay and then using a pulley system to hoist that hay into the barn. They always needed rope of various lengths.
Over the course of the years the family has actually found several depression era rope machines. These machines are hand held machines and take several people to operate. One person is the cranker. He sits at one end and turns the handle. There is also a person at the other end who holds the end of the rope around a holder shaped like a 'Y'. Depending on the length of the rope, anywhere from 5 to 10 people would stand along the length of the rope to make sure that the errant strands of twine do not get tangled.
Unfortunately, I don't have one of those machines. I have been looking. I will try to describe it. On the fixed end, attached to the crank are the gears and essentially four claws. On the other end is the handle. The twine from which the rope is made, is wrapped around the handle and then stretched to the other end and wrapped around a claw on the fixed end. This is repeated until the desired thickness of the rope is achieved. When the twine is attached it is tied off and then the cranking begins.
It is really quite a process. The cranker starts turning the handle and the strands of twine start twist and to tighten up. The ten, or so, people along the line keep the errant strands from tangling up with each other. Once the strands of twine are tightly wound the actual twisting of the rope takes place and the guy at the end slowly starts to walk to the crank, twisting the strands of twine into a rope as he goes.
Our reunions are very structured and we usually reserve two afternoons for the making of rope. We can make about 15 ropes in an afternoon. We make sure that anyone who wants a rope gets one. The last reunion that we went to my daughter got a jump rope and I got this one. It is the one event that I really look forward to at our reunions."
Good night for now.
D.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Our Christmas Tree
To my niece
Our Christmas tree is decorated by tradition. I was single, living alone in 1986 when my niece (my sister-in-law) sent five dollars for me to buy a small tree. She was three and her mother wanted me to have a tree. I wasn't going to celebrate. It was too much work and I was alone in my apartment...what was the point? But discourage a three year old? Not me. I used her money and bought a small tree. She sent me one ornament. It was cute.
My sister heard about it and sent me a small collection of ornaments. We still have them. The next year I had a fiance. She moved in with me and we bought a slightly larger tree. Her girlfriends and cousins each sent a new ornament to go on our tree. A year later our daughter was born. We recieved a lot of baby's first Christmas ornaments and others.
The next year more ornaments sent to us. In the twenty Christmases we have been together we have received many ornaments from friends. I don't believe we have ever bought an ornament for our tree. The spirit of giving decorates our trees. I marvel at our gifts. We are truly blessed. There is a story behind each of our ornaments. There is a story of love and friendship. I love its spirit. I marvel at its life. I am truly amazed each year.
D.
Our Christmas tree is decorated by tradition. I was single, living alone in 1986 when my niece (my sister-in-law) sent five dollars for me to buy a small tree. She was three and her mother wanted me to have a tree. I wasn't going to celebrate. It was too much work and I was alone in my apartment...what was the point? But discourage a three year old? Not me. I used her money and bought a small tree. She sent me one ornament. It was cute.
My sister heard about it and sent me a small collection of ornaments. We still have them. The next year I had a fiance. She moved in with me and we bought a slightly larger tree. Her girlfriends and cousins each sent a new ornament to go on our tree. A year later our daughter was born. We recieved a lot of baby's first Christmas ornaments and others.
The next year more ornaments sent to us. In the twenty Christmases we have been together we have received many ornaments from friends. I don't believe we have ever bought an ornament for our tree. The spirit of giving decorates our trees. I marvel at our gifts. We are truly blessed. There is a story behind each of our ornaments. There is a story of love and friendship. I love its spirit. I marvel at its life. I am truly amazed each year.
D.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
A Rainy Day
When I turned 20 a friend of my family gave me some advice. We were sitting at a family barbecue and just talking. I was about ready to move out on my own. I had a job and was moving across the country to California. I would be on my own for the first time in my life. I was working and living at home. I was paying off some bills and obligations. This gentleman was a great family friend. We had known Charlie and his wife for ten years and he had watched my brothers and sisters and I all grow up. But now I had the opportunity to go out on my own.
Charlie was an older gentleman who had been working for a great many years. I think he was almost ready to retire then. This was thirty years ago. I remember his advice like it was yesterday. It was the best advice I had ever been given. Too bad it took me 15 years to take it. Charlie told me that no matter how much money I make or don’t make, "Pay yourself first". Charlie said that that could take many different forms. But the most important thing was to "pay yourself first."
That advice was always in the back of my mind as I packed all my belongings in the back of my Ford pickup and moved to Lake Tahoe. I found a nice little motel room that I could rent by the month. I think the rent was $155 a month. I had bought my truck from a dealer and was paying about $120 a month on the payment. I was making $5 bucks an hour for a full-time job but I wasn’t too sure what I could afford. I had maybe $600 in my pocket. I had to make expenses each month. And I had to have money left over to live. I WAS living in Lake Tahoe. "Pay yourself first." Very good advice.
After six months in Tahoe I had made enough friends to find a couple of roommates. We moved into a house together and I started saving money. I eventually saved enough money to go back to college. I could save money when I had a distinct goal in mind but saving on a regular basis for a rainy day, that was a different story.
I have tried to convince my children that saving for a rainy day is the best thing to do but I don’t know if it has sunk in. I told my daughter when she started working that she should save a little bit of every pay check. I think I used the words "pay yourself first". But todays world is an expensive place. Even the price of gas eats up most of her paycheck. I know she is managing to save some money, though.
I give my son money to take care of the yard. From the looks of the yard you would think I am saving money. I have to get on his case several times before the rake moves from the garage but he does ok. He does his chores and he gets compensated for it. He wants a new skateboard and I think he is saving up for a banjo (of all things). He may get there.
I have learned to save for a "rainy day". I am now saving for retirement. I am paying myself first. I am very thankful that it is was made easier with all the IRA’s and 401k’s out there now. And the auto deductions from work are fantastic. The only thing that worries me is that I hope my retirement is not really rainy days. Please throw some sunshine in there too.
Thanks Charlie.
David
Charlie was an older gentleman who had been working for a great many years. I think he was almost ready to retire then. This was thirty years ago. I remember his advice like it was yesterday. It was the best advice I had ever been given. Too bad it took me 15 years to take it. Charlie told me that no matter how much money I make or don’t make, "Pay yourself first". Charlie said that that could take many different forms. But the most important thing was to "pay yourself first."
That advice was always in the back of my mind as I packed all my belongings in the back of my Ford pickup and moved to Lake Tahoe. I found a nice little motel room that I could rent by the month. I think the rent was $155 a month. I had bought my truck from a dealer and was paying about $120 a month on the payment. I was making $5 bucks an hour for a full-time job but I wasn’t too sure what I could afford. I had maybe $600 in my pocket. I had to make expenses each month. And I had to have money left over to live. I WAS living in Lake Tahoe. "Pay yourself first." Very good advice.
After six months in Tahoe I had made enough friends to find a couple of roommates. We moved into a house together and I started saving money. I eventually saved enough money to go back to college. I could save money when I had a distinct goal in mind but saving on a regular basis for a rainy day, that was a different story.
I have tried to convince my children that saving for a rainy day is the best thing to do but I don’t know if it has sunk in. I told my daughter when she started working that she should save a little bit of every pay check. I think I used the words "pay yourself first". But todays world is an expensive place. Even the price of gas eats up most of her paycheck. I know she is managing to save some money, though.
I give my son money to take care of the yard. From the looks of the yard you would think I am saving money. I have to get on his case several times before the rake moves from the garage but he does ok. He does his chores and he gets compensated for it. He wants a new skateboard and I think he is saving up for a banjo (of all things). He may get there.
I have learned to save for a "rainy day". I am now saving for retirement. I am paying myself first. I am very thankful that it is was made easier with all the IRA’s and 401k’s out there now. And the auto deductions from work are fantastic. The only thing that worries me is that I hope my retirement is not really rainy days. Please throw some sunshine in there too.
Thanks Charlie.
David
Friday, December 14, 2007
Best Laid Plans
I was recently reminded of an event that occurred while I was living in Lake Tahoe. Someone once said to me that it can snow in every month of the year in Lake Tahoe. That was made evident one particular July Fourth. I was on my way to work and had just parked my car in the employees parking lot of one of the large casinos. It was a cold day out and the wind was blowing. I was walking with my then girlfriend and we met another co-worker also on his way to work. The clouds had just started to sprinkle the area again with some light snow. This was a continuance of the light snow that had been dropping all day. We noticed a little squirrel scammering around the parking lot between the cars. He would find a small pine cone and quickly scurry towards a tree. He looked nervous. Which may have been my own interpretation of his situation. Here it was July. The last snows just melted three months ago and now it was snowing again. What this squirrel must have thought at this new snow fall. I pictured him as nervously thinking that winter had arrived and he wasn't ready. I saw the panic in his face as he looked for food. I got a little chuckle out of this. I wanted to tell him to relax. That he had plenty of time. But he was too busy and probably wouldn't have listened to me anyway. I went to work.
David.
David.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
For My Dad
March 31, 1995
Dear Dad,
I know that after your stroke you said that we all came waiting for you to die, as in some sort of death watch. This is just not true. It occurred to me that the moments that count in life are not the moments we spend alone but moments we spend with each other. Maybe we came together because we feel that we haven't spent enough time together.
You raised your children to be productive members of society and, I believe every one of us is, but in doing so we have all had to make sacrifices. One sacrifice is that the family we were raised with, the family that made us what we are today does not get to see each other as much as we would like. We all have our own lives. But at the time of your stroke we realized that life is precious and also temporary.
Your stroke awoke in us a reality that we really haven't spent as much time together as we should. That is what we are worried about when we ask you how you are doing. Time is our most precious gift.
I guess what I really feel is that this warning that you have been given could be looked on as a gift; a sign of how precious and fleeting life is and that each moment has a beauty all its own to be cherished.
I wrote a poem once and it's been on my mind for several years now. I have begun to ask myself if I am proud of the life I lead. I have no doubts about my personal decisions. I love my family with all my heart. I have questions about my professional decisions. The poem I wrote was about a professional man who finds the decisions he has made have made him unhappy in or unfulfilled in his personal life. The questions asked of him are whether the boy he was would be proud of the man he is.
There are some things that we may never know. But today I came home and I saw my reflection in the window. I was holding my son while fumbling for my keys and I paused and looked at myself in the window. At that moment I realized who I am. I am a family man and as such I have responsibilities to my wife and my daughter and my son. And it makes me very happy. Those responsibilities are manifested in my commitment to my professional life and to myself. And it was in this moment I found an answer to the question. Yes, I am proud of myself. The boy I was could be proud of me. This is the essence of fatherhood.
This boy is also proud of you. I often talk of you in terms of what you accomplished. I tell my coworkers what you worked on and how many years you spent as an engineer. I am amazed at how you can grow just about anything in your backyard and build anything you want from scraps of wood. I love the way you reuse stuff that most people would throw away. I learned a lot from you and you should feel proud of your accomplishments as much as we are proud of you.
Thank you for being my DAD.
Love,
Your son, David
Dear Dad,
I know that after your stroke you said that we all came waiting for you to die, as in some sort of death watch. This is just not true. It occurred to me that the moments that count in life are not the moments we spend alone but moments we spend with each other. Maybe we came together because we feel that we haven't spent enough time together.
You raised your children to be productive members of society and, I believe every one of us is, but in doing so we have all had to make sacrifices. One sacrifice is that the family we were raised with, the family that made us what we are today does not get to see each other as much as we would like. We all have our own lives. But at the time of your stroke we realized that life is precious and also temporary.
Your stroke awoke in us a reality that we really haven't spent as much time together as we should. That is what we are worried about when we ask you how you are doing. Time is our most precious gift.
I guess what I really feel is that this warning that you have been given could be looked on as a gift; a sign of how precious and fleeting life is and that each moment has a beauty all its own to be cherished.
I wrote a poem once and it's been on my mind for several years now. I have begun to ask myself if I am proud of the life I lead. I have no doubts about my personal decisions. I love my family with all my heart. I have questions about my professional decisions. The poem I wrote was about a professional man who finds the decisions he has made have made him unhappy in or unfulfilled in his personal life. The questions asked of him are whether the boy he was would be proud of the man he is.
There are some things that we may never know. But today I came home and I saw my reflection in the window. I was holding my son while fumbling for my keys and I paused and looked at myself in the window. At that moment I realized who I am. I am a family man and as such I have responsibilities to my wife and my daughter and my son. And it makes me very happy. Those responsibilities are manifested in my commitment to my professional life and to myself. And it was in this moment I found an answer to the question. Yes, I am proud of myself. The boy I was could be proud of me. This is the essence of fatherhood.
This boy is also proud of you. I often talk of you in terms of what you accomplished. I tell my coworkers what you worked on and how many years you spent as an engineer. I am amazed at how you can grow just about anything in your backyard and build anything you want from scraps of wood. I love the way you reuse stuff that most people would throw away. I learned a lot from you and you should feel proud of your accomplishments as much as we are proud of you.
Thank you for being my DAD.
Love,
Your son, David
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