Archive for the ‘Just Saying’ Category
Thanksgiving has come and gone for another year but for a change I thoroughly enjoyed the experience. Since I’m not a religious person the holidays of Christmas and Easter don’t get me all that excited. I participate in the activities but only because I care for the family members who go dog-shit crazy over them. New Years was a great holiday when I was younger when drinking and carousing were the rule of the day but that ended a while back.
The Fall of the year is my favorite season. It’s that old harvest time mindset in Maine that really attracts me. Every weekend from Labor Day until Thanksgiving will find people at Town Fairs, Farm Shows, and festivals of all kinds. Home made foods, home made gifts, and farm animals are the order of the day. It’s still a place where many Maine families carry on the tradition of visiting one of our local tree farms for picking out the family Christmas tree. It’s even cooler when you’ve had a fresh snow fall and you get to walk out in the woods with a saw in one hand and your kid hanging onto the other. It just makes the seasons feel more meaningful and it gives those kids a life-long memory to enjoy.
I’ve been fortunate over the years to have attended many family Thanksgiving gatherings with my family and the families of others. That’s really what makes Thanksgiving mean more to me than any of the other holidays. It’s the tradition of the day more than the food that makes it extra special. The fact that the Pilgrims created the first Thanksgiving is nice but so what. What’s important to me is the family members making the effort to be together and be thankful for the things and people in their lives. Our celebration this year was a small intimate family group with the new grandson enjoying his first Thanksgiving. He was the lucky one who didn’t overeat and got to sleep through the meal. The food was great and the company was too. I was in charge of the bird this year and (patting myself on the back) it was delicious. That bird made the ultimate sacrifice and we all appreciated it. I’ll appreciate it again over the next month or two when we can snack on those homemade pot pies he’s going to be a part of. Yummmm!
I hope all of you enjoyed the day and your time with your families. We’ve lost a few family members this year and have welcomed a new arrival as well. Keep them all in your thoughts.
Here’s a few poems and stray thoughts on this Thanksgiving Eve:
“As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them.” ~John Fitzgerald Kennedy
Our rural ancestors, with little blest,
Patient of labour when the end was rest,
Indulged the day that housed their annual grain,
With feasts, and off’rings, and a thankful strain.
~Alexander Pope
For each new morning with its light,
For rest and shelter of the night,
For health and food, for love and friends,
For everything Thy goodness sends.
~Ralph Waldo Emerson
“An optimist is a person who starts a new diet on Thanksgiving Day.” ~Irv Kupcinet
Ah! on Thanksgiving day….
When the care-wearied man seeks his mother once more,
And the worn matron smiles where the girl smiled before.
What moistens the lips and what brightens the eye?
What calls back the past, like the rich pumpkin pie?
~John Greenleaf Whittier
“We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures.” ~Thornton Wilder
“On Thanksgiving Day, all over America, families sit down to dinner at the same moment – halftime.” ~Author Unknown
“Nothing is more honorable than a grateful heart.” ~Seneca
May your stuffing be tasty
May your turkey plump,
May your potatoes and gravy
Have nary a lump.
May your yams be delicious
And your pies take the prize,
And may your Thanksgiving dinner
Stay off your thighs!
~Author Unknown
I’m a cat person as are millions of others in this country and I’ve been told there are currently more cats than dogs being kept as pets. You’d think that cat’s would now be considered “mans best friend”, but they’re not. I’ve written before about how I believe cats think we humans are their pets and we’re actually “a cats best friend”. That being said, it appears that I am owned by an exceptionally inscrutable and sly cat. In general cats are pretty laid back and appear to the uninitiated that they are aloof and uncaring. I agree to a point on aloof but cats really do have personalities that are as different from each other as human beings.
I’ve been acquainted with five cats in my life and each one has had it’s own peculiarities and personality quirks. After years of observing them closely I’ve determined that one characteristic is common to them all. It’s called the Twenty Second Delay Response Syndrome (TSDRS). With dogs you shout a command and they spring to their feet wagging their tails and just begging to do your bidding. I think that cats get the same rush from your attention but choose not to show it quite so openly. They sit and wait for approximately twenty seconds then nonchalantly stroll over to see what’s going on. Try it out yourself if your owned by a cat, it’s amazing.
You’ll also note that I continually say “owned by a cat” and I’m not kidding in the least. Let me explain further. My better-half was for years a dog person. When we finally decided to live together I was more than a little concerned about her relationship with “Stormy”, my feline friend. He and I have been together for almost twelve years and we lived the swinging bachelor lifestyle for almost eight years. It was a “Mexican Standoff” with my better-half and her son Chris for the first month or so after we moved in. Slowly but surely Stormy began to reel them in until my better-half was finally converted. Chris was more fortunate when he moved to California and broke free of the cats hypnotic effects.
We buy Stormy the best food, we give him fresh water every day, and we shovel and clean his disgusting litter box. He also has access to an outside deck where he can lounge all day in the sun and chase a bird or two. My better-half and I once had a double bed to share our nights together. It has now become a triple bed with Stormy deciding who sleeps where and how much room is allowed for each of us. In the morning God forbid we don’t immediately run to the kitchen to get his breakfast ready or he will bother, harass, and annoy us until we do. He’s a twelve pound, hairy alarm clock with a huge chip on his shoulder.
He loves to play but he can be more than a little rough. I have years of scars on my hands, arms, and feet to prove it. Recently during a play session I really pissed him off and he latched onto my foot. I screamed an obscenity which quickly ended the play time with him scurrying away and me limping to the bathroom for hydrogen peroxide and a band-aid. We didn’t speak for a week and every time we were in the same room he would sit with his back to me and begin the “Big Ignore”. After a week of his shunning I began to feel bad so I made sure his water was fresh, I changed his litter box early, and fed him a treat or two which he refused to eat until I left the room. Finally last night as I was just dozing off he jumped up on the bed and allowed me to move the hell over and make room for him. What a guy. He nudged me a few times expecting to be petted and loved-on a little and of course I complied.
Now I hope you understand if you’re an actual cat person just exactly who owns who. I’d like to continue this little story but the sun’s out and Stormy has been bugging me for the last twenty minutes to open the door to the deck. He’s getting as much deck time as possible while the Fall sunshine lasts and before the snow begins to fly. He gets a bit grumpy if he doesn’t get his deck time because he’s concerned about losing his summer tan.
A lot of people use the term “a dogs life” to define the perfect way to live. I’d much rather have “a cat’s life”.
Well we’ve survived the big day. Our first evening of baby sitting for our newly arrived five week old grand baby. My better-half has slowly devolved from the position of my highly intelligent life partner to an excited and silly young mother in her twenties. I always knew she felt that her years of raising her three children were the best years she’d ever had but I really underestimated that. Her excitement started about a week prior to his visit and built, day-by-day, until she was practically bouncing off the walls.
She was scurrying around the house cleaning just about anything that didn’t move and some things that did, like the cat. She had to destroy all of those nasty germs and bugs before the babies arrival. It was fun to watch because she really hasn’t been this excited about much of anything in recent years, including yours truly. Am I feeling unloved? Not really, but I did feel myself slip one notch on her “people who really matter list”.
I’ve honestly never thought it was possible for anyone to get this excited by changing a smelly diaper or to giggle like a high schooler after being thrown up on. I watched it happen and was astounded by the change in her personality. She was in heaven.
She’s had fantasies for many years about things she wanted to do with her grand children and these two things were apparently high on that list. Another involved my repairing and refinishing an old rocking chair I found in the garage a few years ago. It just happened to be the very same rocker she used to rock her own children. Even though it was in terrible condition she adamantly refused to part with it. One of my Christmas gifts last year involved my rescue of that old chair. I repaired some pieces, I rebuild the springs and horse hair seat, I refinished the entire frame, and reupholstered the seat. It did my heart good to see her living out her fantasy when she sat down and rocked our new arrival in that old chair.
I don’t intent to get mushy about the whole deal but it was something I won’t ever forget. Our lives have again been altered with the addition of this young man to the family and I suspect we’ll all be the better for it. I hope his parents enjoyed their night out on the town and “Happy First Anniversary” to them both.
Patience is a virtue. I can’t tell you how many times in my life I’ve been told that by family members and friends alike. I guess the reason I’ve heard it so often was that I lacked any patience whatsoever in years past. I was an overachieving, goal oriented, pain in the ass workaholic. For most of my career I worked six days a week and three or four of those days were spent in airplanes flying around the country. So not only was I impatient but I also had a white-knuckle fear of flying which made me more than a little irritable. Not many people knew of my flying phobia and I never made anyone aware of it until much later in my life. For years I was on the go constantly and when I made a request I was a major-league pain-in-the-ass about making sure it was honored. That included associates that worked for me, the people that worked with me, and any service personnel paid to do a specific job.
After twenty years I left the “rat race” and spent the next seven years working for the State of Maine in a job that was hectic but not crazy. During that seven years I was able to dial it back a little and tried to be a little more patient with friends and family. I still had my moments but I felt like I was getting it under control. Out of the blue I began to suffer from severe headaches and fits of rage. Being the paranoid person that I am I found a doctor who ran a normal battery of tests to determine what my issues were. Come to find out I had been suffering from seriously high blood pressure for a number of years and was verging on real problems. The doctor directed me to find a hobby or two to help calm me down. The medication I was immediately given calmed me down in a big way. After so many years of high blood pressure I had a tough time adapting to being so calm. I felt like I was high all the time but I was assured by the doctor that would pass as I became accustomed to the medication. He was right and after a time I leveled out.
Now to find a hobby. I’d been a winemaker for years but not recently. Winemaking forces you to become patient, like it or not. Mix the ingredients together, put in the yeast, and you’re then required to wait up to three or four months to see the final product. During that time you have to baby that wine if you want a satisfactory batch. It actually helped me a great deal. I had been a half-assed photographer for years and returned to it gladly. Nothing is more calming than communing with Mother Nature and hoping against hope to be in the right place at the right time to get that Kodak moment wildlife shot.
Yesterday was a sunny and reasonably warm Fall day here in Maine. I spent two hours sitting with my back against a tree out in the middle of nowhere attempting to get a photograph of either a bear cub or a barn owl. Three years ago I stumbled into a isolated area and sitting in a tree about 5 feet away from me was that owl. He’d been sleeping and when I walked up he became frightened and flew away. He only flew a few feet before landing in a nearby tree. I took approximately 20 photographs of him in that tree from all angles. They were some of the best pictures I’d taken up until that time. I’ve been returning to that area for years now and have seen him flying above me but never again had him sitting in a tree. I’m now patient enough to eventually be successful.
The bear is pretty much the same story. I happened to be walking through a wooded area and I heard a rustling about 30 feet up a nearby tree. I looked up and sitting in that tree with just the top of his head sticking up from behind the leaves was a baby bear. I snapped one photograph and he ducked back into the leaf cover. Being the careful person that I am I knew where there was a bear cub there was also a mother some where nearby. I backed off immediately because I had no way to defend myself if she showed up. I’ve returned dozens of times trying to find that young bear and possibly get a decent photograph or two. Now that I’m patient person I may eventually find them but even if I don’t I’ve still succeeded.
What’s the moral of this story? You decide.
This is my day for doing a little thinking and enjoying my few hours of quiet time. 2012 has been an interesting year for me primarily because of the pregnancy of my better-half’s daughter and the birth of her first child. It’s the first time in many years that I’ve had the pleasure of watching someone close to me develop for the full nine months and then to be present in the hospital for the birth of the child. Watching her steadily increasing size was interesting but the thing that really grabbed me was the movements of the baby during that last trimester.
I recall a sunny afternoon on our deck last summer where she and I were enjoying the day and as we were speaking I could see her shirt moving as the baby reacted to her voice. She then proceeded to push on her belly to move him around a bit to make things more more comfortable. I haven’t been closely involved with any pregnant women for more years than I care to think about and I was surprised by my own reaction. I told her that it was creepy and gave me goose-bumps. I then asked how it really felt to feel that little body moving around inside her. She gently took the time to explain to me in some detail what she was feeling and how excited she was about the upcoming birth. It takes a lot to touch me but she did. To see her so happy and excited moved me more than I thought possible. Just a short time ago she was a young, inexperienced college student trying to find her way in this world. Just a few short years later she’s a teacher, a wife, and soon to be a mother. Amazing. As we were sitting in the waiting room in the hospital a few months later I thought about that moment on the deck and just smiled. She was now in the birthing room going through something I could never experience or understand and she couldn’t wait to get there.
Our new little man made his grand entrance on schedule and he’s doing exceptionally well at the grand old age of four weeks? I’m really looking forward to the day when he and I can sit on that same deck and I can tell him this story.
And one more thing before I go. If we men were responsible for child bearing and had to go through nine months of what most women do, the planet would be free of human beings. Just saying.
Well, we’re ten days into the month of November and it’s hard to believe that just a few short weeks ago I was sitting on my deck wearing a T-shirt and shorts and enjoying the warm weather. In my attempt to be optimistic I refuse to think that for the next long, boring, and weather beaten five months I’ll be housebound.
Today is a day of odds and ends. I first went to the granddaddy of all retailers, Walmart, to pick up a few things and to enjoy a reasonably nice day. Walmart as usual is a freaking zoo. Just pulling into the parking lot is an adventure where all those years of amusement park bumper cars finally paid off. It’s a Friday morning in November at 7:15 am and I was hard-pressed to find a decent parking spot. The lot was full, people wandering everywhere, and none paying the slightest attention to the moving vehicles. It was a good morning to play “idiot hockey” and test the reflexes of all the late night partiers stumbling into the Dunkin Donuts inside the Walmart. They were pretty nimble and were still moving quickly enough to avoid a vinyl bumper up their ass. I guess I’m showing my lack of patience but I really don’t care. The only thing worse than a discourteous driver is a discourteous pedestrian and I’m surprised and shocked that more of them aren’t seriously injured on a regular basis. Oh well enough of my complaining it’s time to get into the store, do my shopping, and get the hell out.
The store was fairly crowded with the normal oddballs and yahoo’s roaming around and giving us other humans something to talk about. I needed a few dietary supplements so I wandered over towards the pharmacy. As I’m walking down the aisle near the condoms I overhear two women in a rather heated discussion about which ones were the best? Should we get ribbed or lubricated? You can’t buy that size, he’s not that big. This went on for a few minutes and I found a label to read on a nearby product because I didn’t want to miss anything. I had to chuckle a few times and try not to be too obvious but my presence didn’t seem to faze them at all. They were reading the box descriptions out loud to each other, comparing notes, and laughing hysterically. Gone are the days when we men were forced to sneak into drugstores and buy condoms on the QT. I suppose it’s only fair these days that I’m occasionally required to buy feminine hygiene products for my better-half.
I thought about those ladies and their conversation all the way home. I’ve never been a big fan of condoms and when possible I wouldn’t use them. Fortunately for me when I was acting wild and crazy STD’s weren’t as a big an issue as they are today. All I had to do then was determine if the woman I was pursuing was on the pill or not. If not, I proceeded on to the next possible partner. The way things are these days I wouldn’t attempt sex with a any partner unless I wore a body condom. Bearing all that in mind when I got home I decided to do a little research on condoms. I have a fairly extensive library of books containing tons and tons of totally useless information and trivia. It took me about 10 min. to find what I was looking for and I’m making it available to you free of charge. You just can’t have enough information about condoms.
Condoms have been with us much longer than you might have imagined. Condoms are supposedly named after the apocryphal,”Dr. Condom”, or Conton, who is supposed to have made them for Charles II, out of lamb’s intestines, which were dried and then well oiled. The mail sheath, however, had been around long before the time of Charles II. Before the time of Christ, the Chinese made them with oiled silk paper (the first lubricated condoms). It is rumored that Roman soldiers would make condoms from the muscle tissue of their defeated foes. By mid-evil times, the spread of syphilis increased the use of condoms greatly. In the 1800s condoms were made from animal intestines that were soaked in an alkaline solution, scraped, disinfected with the vapor of burning brimstone, washed, insulated, dried, cut to approximately 7 inches, and fitted with a ribbon on the open end. The Catholic Church wasn’t too crazy about this prophylactic profusion and in 1826 Pope Leo the XIII condemned their use. Despite the objections of his Holiness, condoms were here to stay!
Making this detailed history of condoms available should be considered my November public service announcement.
You’re very welcome.
Well the first winter storm has come and gone with no appreciable damage to our home or property. It’s been sleeting and raining off and on for most of the night but the plus side to that is the snow will be gone in a short time. It’s a reasonably good start to the 2012/2013 winter when we’ve had 4 inches of snow which required no shoveling.
I spent most of my evening yesterday lounging with my better-half watching a little TV. I’m not sure who’s responsible for giving television the nickname “boob tube” but they certainly hit that nail right on the head. I was reading and TV watching and finally finished the first Harry Potter book. A short time after my better-half went off to bed I turned off the “tube” and opened up book number two. It was an enjoyable read but it didn’t last very long. I become so relaxed when I read that if I’m not careful I can easily doze off. My solution is to sit in an uncomfortable chair in an uncomfortable position and just read. I stay awake longer and in the long run read much more.
Today’s a new day and I’ve got a lot of errands to run and a list of tasks that need to be taken care of. I was happy to finally receive yesterday afternoon a really nice set of wood carving tools that I ordered from Amazon a week or so ago. I like carving but without the proper tools it’s just a waste of time and energy. I spent an hour or two on an old piece of wood learning what each tool will do and what they won’t do. It may take me a little time to get the feel for these tools but I think any carvings that I do in the future will be much cleaner and crisper than in the past. I may actually try to do something I’ve been wanting to do for quite some time and that is to attempt wood block printing. It’s been a number of years since the last time but it’s a little like sex and bicycle riding, you never forget the basics. That will be another one of my winter projects for this year and should keep me busy in January and February.
Well, I’m finally dressed with my camera in hand and I’m out the door in five minutes. I need to make a quick stop at a local business that supplies me with winemaking equipment. We have three batches of wine underway and it won’t be long before the bottling will begin. I’m in need of corks and a few other odds and ends. I’ve been experimenting this year with my wines and I’ll find out soon enough if it worked. I’m a huge fan of Gin but drinking too much of it is not a good idea. I decided to gather the ingredients used to make Gin and attempt to create a Gin Wine. I had juniper berries shipped in from California and in combination with other herbs and spices made a three gallon batch. Making wine is always an adventure because you never really have any idea how it will turn out even if your following a good recipe. This experiment has Gin’s aroma but it’s the taste that has me concerned. Our other batches of Blueberry and Triple Berry (Blueberry, Blackberry, and Strawberry) are in their final stages and I’ve given them my first taste test. So far so good.
I’m out the door, let the day begin.
It looks like this is going to be another day of surprises for me. I woke up bright and early this morning and stumbled from the bedroom barely conscious. The house was chilly, the cat was hungry, and my kidneys were screaming. Being the organized guy that I am I immediately prioritized. I turned up the thermostat, kicked the cat out of the way, and headed for my favorite room of the house. It was still dark as hell but as I walked past our large picture window I couldn’t have been more surprised. Four inches of freaking snow piled up on the deck and everywhere else. It’s what I get for not paying attention to the weather forecasts over the last few days. These inconvenient and inevitable weather changes are a pain in the ass but we must roll with the punches. My immediate response to the snow was to get a cup of coffee and make a beeline for my nice warm and toasty bed. I did feed the cat on the way only because I knew he’d nag me to death to get fed if I didn’t.
I slide back under the covers, turned on the TV and guess what, no satellite signal. I can’t ever seem to get a damn break. We hadn’t lost power, thank God, but looking out the window I could see a shimmer of sleet and immediately knew why the signal had been lost. Effing ice build up on the dish requiring my personal touch. I sat for a moment hoping against hope the damn thing will recover on it’s own. Fat chance. I was being forced to leave my warm snuggly bed to venture out into the cold cruel storm. I threw on a robe, grabbed a broom, and made my way to the door. Shit!
You must realize I’m an accident waiting to happen when there’s snow or ice anywhere nearby. I’ve fallen so many times in my life it’s ridiculous. In the last twenty years I’ve fractured my knee, thrown out my back, and fell to the driveway directly on top of my hand breaking my little finger. With a record like that it’s no wonder I’m extra careful at all times. I got to the door with my broom and unfortunately for me the only pair of available shoes were a pair of Crocs made for summer beach wear. Being a good soldier I put my bare feet into those stupid Crocs, opened the door and stepped out into the snow. Believe me when I tell you it was freaking cold. I only took a few steps before balance became an immediate issue but thank God for the broom. That stupid broom turned from a cleaning device to a walking stick and saved my ass from a tumble. I knocked the snow and ice from the satellite dish and safely returned to the house. I was really proud of myself for avoiding an injury but I’ve got to remember not to get too cocky. This was just the first in any number of snow storms and we have four more months of winter before I’ll feel safe again.
I love Winter and the change of seasons but these are perilous times for me and all of the other really clumsy people out there.
I guess I must be suffering from post election withdrawal. It’s such a relief to have the election and all of the associated nonsense over with. So I’ll start this day enjoying my breakfast of eggs, bacon, toast, and coffee. I guess as long as the simple things I enjoy stay the same it helps me deal with the bigger things that suck. I stayed up late last night reading more of Harry Potter and occasionally surfing to Fox News to check on the election returns. Needless to say I slept in a little later than usual this morning because I knew what I was going to wake up to.
This little breakfast nook of ours is on the second floor overlooking the road that passes by the house. We seem to be on the route for a continuing stream of bicyclists, runners, and soccer moms with their kids and dogs. It’s an easy way for me to people watching from a safe distance without alarming anyone. People these days are very nervous, and rightly so.
I’ve noticed one thing in recent months about the runners that jog by here. They all look like they want to die with their red flushed faces and wobbly knees. I thought running was supposed to be a good thing. All I’ve ever heard from the obsessed runners that I know is how this huge rush of endorphins surges through their skinny yet healthy bodies. I hate to be the one to tell them that I can also get a huge rush of endorphins by smacking myself on the hand with a hammer. Truth be told I’d rather have the smack with that hammer than to be running all over God’s creation. Let me tell you a story I was told from my late father a few years ago. Listen to the story and then get back to me about how healthy jogging can be. Here we go.
My father worked a blue-collar job all of his life and for most of those years his job was extremely physical so he never was into lifting weights, hitting the gym, or running. His boss’s name was Mr. White and he worked primarily in an office position that required almost no physical activity. Mr. White lived a few miles from our home and every morning as my dad was driving to work he’d see Mr. White jogging along in his cute little running outfit. He’d give my Dad a nod or a wave and continue on down the road. Now you must understand this, Mr. White was not overweight or in need of bodybuilding and appeared to be a healthy individual who was using running for stress relief. One morning as my father’s work day began he was called to the office and told that Mr. White had passed away. He asked under what circumstances and was told that Mr. White had been found lying along a road approximately a half mile from his home, dressed in his jogging outfit, and dead from a heart attack. What’s the moral of the story you ask. That’s an easy one for me, don’t freaking jog.
I’m not criticizing those people who love running but I just thought it was ironic as hell that a guy that appeared to be as healthy as Mr. White dropped dead while jogging. You can be sure of one thing, you’ll never see me running along a road anywhere unless there’s a guy close behind me with a gun. Just saying.
I’m rambling on and on because I truthfully don’t want to get off my ass and do anything today. Maybe another coffee and some loud kick-ass music might do the trick. We’ll see.
