In Response...

I'll keep this post up for a little while, and then it will be gone. I have a thing about my blog when it comes to my kids- I try not to convey anything that might be construed as even slightly critical of them or their situation. The reason is- any perceived criticism is such a minuscule part of our relationship, I don’t want anyone thinking that my kids are anything other than great. I don’t want you thinking anything other than this. If anyone comes away from here feeling anything else, I've failed... and they're wrong. I’m not always successful in this, but that’s my goal.

But, the problem in writing is, in proportion to the amount of words put on the page, the weight of anything even slightly negative is given more importance than it is in life. People will read it and get a distorted idea of the way things are.

I have no problem proclaiming my love and my pride for you and your siblings, and I think I do- frequently. But, for the reasons I just mentioned, I’m more than a little uncomfortable having a personal “conversation” like this in a public forum- but I will, since that's how the conversation started...

So, where do I begin? Well, first of all, it’s a minor point, but I believe my response to you last night was, “Do you think that’s wise?” (which is kind of odd, because I rarely use the word “wise”.) That was all. But, your inference was correct... partly.

On the one hand, I absolutely believe that if you (meaning “anyone”) have outstanding obligations, you have to take care of them first. If you make a commitment, you have a responsibility to keep that commitment. And the thing is, I think you do a great job at it. You take care of your various loans without any involvement from me. You’re very responsible with your money. (I do worry about you getting duped or signing something where you don’t understand the full ramifications of what you’re obligated to, but that’s not being unwise or stupid or anything like that. That’s inexperience. We all go through that... forever.) So, if you think my concern comes from feeling like you’re irresponsible, you’re wrong.

Where you are correct though, is in my concern for your welfare down the road. I know that you are aware that you will be having bills to pay, and I know that you will be taking it seriously, because that’s who you are. But it is impossible for you to fully feel the weight and the stress of this from where you are right now. Every time you turn around, there will be another bill coming in. And as I said before, there will be months where you will have to choose between eating and paying the rent. There are a lot of people who find they can’t do either. It happens hard, and it happens quickly. The more you can set aside now, the bigger your safety net will be when you move out and even then, it will be hard. Even though I know it will ultimately have to be your experience, I’ve been trying to help you with your bills, so you can build up that safety net which will hopefully offer you a little breathing room. And, by the way, it’s not a matter of you not deserving it or anything like that. I think you deserve the world.

So, specific to last night- If you were out on your own and had a few months under your belt- a few months where you’ve had the chance to figure out how to balance all of your “necessities” and new responsibilities- all of these “unknowns”, and you felt you could make it work in that context, fine. I wouldn’t worry as much (well... maybe....... probably not, but still...). But that’s not where you are right now. Yes, you’re getting there, but you’re still in a rocky position. And if it works out in your favor, then that money will be there for you to do what you want. If things don’t go in your favor, then that money will be there to help you get what you need.

I have an expression- “The driveway keeps getting longer”. It means nothing to anyone but me. What this means to me is the analogy of teaching your kid to ride a bike and how it relates to life. You start off holding the seat, running alongside, huffing up and down the driveway. Little by little, you’re letting go. The bike wobbles, and there are the inevitable spills. But over time, the bike wobbles less, the spills are less frequent. And there comes a point where you stand at the end of the driveway and watch your kid ride back and forth- each time they go a little bit further. The more comfortable they get, and the more confidence they get, the further they go.

Learning to ride a bike, starting school, learning to drive, looking at colleges, getting out on your own- these and a million other examples are all about the same thing- they are about helping your child grow and become independent. They are about helping them find, and work toward their happiness... whatever that means for them. You will learn more from your own experiences than you will from mine, but I will still speak up when I think you’re heading into traffic.

I know I’ve told you this story before- but I can fully relate to you wanting to be out on your own. I loved my parents very much (and still do), but for all the same reasons you mention, “it was time”. I can still remember wanting, needing, feeling the same things you do, including the frustration. And I can remember how much of a struggle it was, but also how necessary it was to be out on my own. And I can also remember needing a little help. And this brings me back to trying to help you, by building up your safety net. And hopefully helping and supporting your plans in other ways as well.

You don’t need to worry about me feeling like I’m somehow losing you (emotionally, that is). I’ve heard of men having problems when their daughters grow up because they’re no longer “the man in their life”. I’m not sure how true this is, I can’t say I’ve ever seen this first hand. But it strikes me a s B.S. I worry about a lot of things, but I don’t worry about you never needing me. I don’t worry about being somehow replaced in your life. I don’t think along those lines. There is no way someone could take the place that you hold in my life, or of your sister, or your brothers, etc. Each of you hold a unique place in my heart that no one can replace. Good or bad, why should I think it would be any different for any of you?

I love you very much too. And if you are not hearing it, or not hearing how proud I am of you, or how hard I think you work, I will say it louder. And because I'm a parent and because I am who I am (to paraphrase Popeye) and because I worry, I will probably ask again sometime, "Do you think that's wise?". And because you'll be out on your own and because you'll have the experience, you will probably answer, "Yes".

And one last thing-
How about next time, we try talking face to face?
Love, Dad

Dawn's Early Light

Three acorns have been sitting on my desk since Sam collected them last Fall. Two are big, the other one little. They've been there for so long, I'm not sure whether they now belong to me or whether this is just another one of the small collections of objects that Sam keeps around the house. Regardless, as I'm checking my email this morning, the small acorn rolls off the desk and disappears somewhere into the darkness.

I don't know which is more absurd- the fact that I'm crawling around on my hands and knees on the dining room floor with a flashlight at 5:15 in the morning, looking for an acorn . Or feeling like I'll kind of miss that acorn if I don't find it.

Too Late

I have a hard time figuring out when someone wants my opinion versus when they only need a sounding board. It's usually pretty clear to me after I'm done bloviating that I should have kept my mouth shut.

Usually.

Repetition

I've been waking up in bad moods way too often lately. The rainy day isn't helping me at all. Maybe its the letdown from the weekend.

Neighbors: 1, Sparrows: 0

I see the neighbor's have completely razed the rose bushes where The Sparrows would congregate before swarming my feeders.

Take that you little bastards!

Today's Quote

... From today's Daily Beast":

Kazakhstan Demands 'Borat' Probe

I no like. Not so nice. Kazakhstan is furious over the playing of the spoof national anthem from the comedy Borat during a real-life international sporting event, calling it "a scandal" and demanded an investigation. Maria Dmitrienko of Kazakhstan won a gold medal at the Arab Shooting Championships in Kuwait on Thursday, but during the award ceremony the spoof anthem from the 2006 movie starring Sacha Baron Cohen was played instead of the real anthem. Tournament organizers are believed to have downloaded the wrong version from the Internet.

Link here

Friday

It's off to the grocery store this morning. Helaina's getting her wisdom teeth out today so I'm stocking up on the necessities, things like jello, pudding, Popsicles, ice cream and a big bag of ice. Being this early on a Friday, the store's nearly empty. I find they have a ton of bananas in the discount bin. Might as well buy some to make some banana bread. Last time this happened, I bought about about three times as many bananas as I needed. It doesn't stop me from doing the same thing again.

I grab the other groceries and head to the front of the store. At the check-out, I unload all my stuff, including the dozen or so packs of bananas. Like the last time, the lady at the register looks at me like I'm crazy. Also like the last time, I get the exact same comment, "Boy! That sure is a lot of bananas!" "A brilliant observation", I think to myself, "Take a banana for yourself". Instead, I just stare back at her. She makes no other comment about the three six-packs of pudding, the six-pack of Jello, quart of ice cream, box of Popsicles , bag of ice or quart of milk. Time to go home and put it all away.

Helaina and I head off to the oral surgeon's office. I'm pretty sure I'm more nervous than her. We're not in the waiting room long before she gets called in and I'm left to my own devices. Cold air is blowing up my back from the air conditioner vent in the floor directly behind my chair. I could move but decide not to. It provides some small distraction for my anxiety. It's uncomfortable sitting in the waiting room while Helaina gets her teeth out, and not just because of the cold air. It feels no different to me than when she was little and had to go through something similar. It feels no different than when Rachael and Sam went through similar things. It feels awful. I read a magazine and look at the clock. I look out the window, then look at the clock. I hate being in waiting rooms. It's one thing if your in a doctor's office for something like a check-up, but this feels like being stuck in the waiting room of a hospital.

An hour or so later, I get called in to see her. An ice pack is wrapped around her jaw. Bloody gauze sticks out of her mouth. "Don't let her fall back to sleep" the nurse says. Easier said than done. When they're not closed, Helaina's eyes are rolling around. I brush away her bangs, just like when she was little. Unlike when she was little, she doesn't smile back, she looks annoyed. I brush them anyway. The doctor comes in and reviews the follow-up care and we're free to leave.

At home, she sleeps and I head to the pharmacy. Once back home, I make banana bread then head to the grocery store again. She wakes up and seems to be doing a little better. I'm politely reminded that she doesn't care for pudding. I over-bake the banana bread and they come out like bricks.

Luckily, I have extra bananas.

The Adventures of Pinnochio

I hate finding something treasured from my youth that doesn’t live up to the memories. Recently, I’ve been on the hunt for a certain copy of "Pinocchio". This would be the same edition that Dad read to us from when I was little.  I’m pretty sure I have the remains of that edition around here somewhere. At one point, I rescued what was left of the book when Mom and Dad were in the process of moving from their home. Coverless and missing a few pages, it was swept into a pile of junk and memories in their attic. And though technically it belonged to my brother, I grabbed it and put it... somewhere. But that was about thirty years and several moves ago. I haven’t been able to find it among all of our boxes. At least, not so far.

I remember the excitement of being read to, along with the warmth from the attention that goes with it. But I remember almost nothing of the story. I mean, as much as anyone, I’m familiar with parts of Pinocchio, but I couldn't begin to recite the entire tale. And even at that, I couldn’t tell you what was from this book, what was from the Disney version, or what I simply made up. Like a lot of things, only selective parts make it through the haze of the years. But what I do remember from the book were the illustrations. I remember how they drew me in and both fascinated, and at times, frightened me. I remember the bright colors and the expressive characters. 

So, I've been on the hunt. Trying to find this book on the Internet proved nearly impossible. I had no idea how old it was, even back then. I had no idea if it was under a different name. I had no idea who did the illustrations. Type in “Pinocchio” and see what you get. You get results that are about 80% the Disney version and the remaining results are a hodgepodge of other versions. Many seem quite fine but none were the version I was looking for. None, at least, within the first thirty pages or so of results. 

Finally, after playing around with the name, “Pinocchio”, along with various combinations of dates and words such as “illustrated”, I came across a used book seller. As luck would have it, they had sold their only copy a couple of months earlier. But it gave me couple of pictures and a name, “Maraja”. Searching for “Maraja” by itself didn’t get me too far, but by adding “illustrator” to it,  it was a whole different story. Adding “Pinocchio” to that, and it opened up everything.

With this information, I eventually managed to find a seller that had an affordable used copy (“loved”, I think was their term). The cover looked as I remembered it, so at the risk of shattering a cherished memory, I took a chance and ordered it. It arrived the other day.

The copy that showed up is in slightly better shape that the one I rescued. The cover, while mostly intact, won’t be there for long, not with any great use anyway. But otherwise, it’s in pretty good shape for a book its age. The pages are all there and the colors are as bright as I remember them.

And thankfully, this is one of those rare instances where the reality matches my memory.

Nature Walk

Speaking of firsts, another "first of the season" happened yesterday when I managed to go for my first lunchtime walk at work. It was a grueling quarter of a mile, but nothing beats getting out and enjoying the sights and smells of nature. Top it off with a fantastic lunch of pineapple bits straight from the can, and you've got a day made in heaven!

Smells of Spring

Spring, or at least the warm weather, has officially arrived. It started last Sunday which allowed me to do my first grilling of the season. I am once again faced with my usual problem of cooking way too much food for the amount of people that are still at home. This was a problem when there were six of us here full time and it hasn't been adjusted downward for the 3.5 of us that are currently here now. As a result, my refrigerator is stuffed with overly charred hot dogs and hamburgers, with a few pork chop brickettes thrown in for good measure.

I excuse the overcooking by blaming it on the fact that it's been a long time since I last cooked out, but the truth is, this is pretty much a summer-long problem. In any case, between being saddled with enough food to feed a platoon and the fact that a substantial portion of the human population would consider much of this food inedible, there is just about zero chance that all of it is going to be eaten. If nothing else, I should be able to repave the front walk with the leftovers.

Today's Beef

Why did the manufacturers of salami have to ruin it for me by listing specific cow parts in the ingredients? I don’t want to know that it contains “beef hearts” any more than I want to know what happened to the eyeballs and lips. Why can’t they be like the hotdog people and leave me to my fantasy that this is just another product of nature harvested from the fruitful orchards of some exotic paradise?

Time Saving Tips

Time to share with you, my loyal blog readers, some handy house cleaning tips that I've picked up over the years (no pun intended). Here they are, in no particular order:

1) Stacking your junk into taller and taller piles technically qualifies as cleaning "up".

2) Contrary to what you've been told, if you leave the dirty dishes in the sink long enough, they will indeed get done by themselves.

3) Along these same lines, don't bother replacing the empty paper towel roll with a new one. These will actually regenerate themselves if left alone long enough.(While this is technically not a clean-up tip, it is still an important time saver and thus deserves mention.)

4) What's the next best thing to actually doing some laundry? Try stuffing the overflowing dirty clothes deeper into the hamper. Presto! It's just like you did a load of wash! And as an added bonus, there's nothing to fold!

5) Before picking up your stuff, ask yourself this important question: Will that pile of junk still be there tomorrow? If the answer is yes, why are you wasting your time doing it now? If the answer is no, why are you wasting your time even thinking about it?

This has been another valuable free service provided by this blog, and will be updated as events warrant. Now, get back to enjoying life!

You're welcome.

Political Action

I post this link knowing full well that this is a very "of the minute" kind of thing.

Still, I find it pretty darn funny.

Greetings From North House

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