You had to be there

I got a call early this morning not to come to work as the facility has been closed because of carbon monoxide levels.  Horrible.  Wish I knew more and could somehow help.  I don't like not working when I'm supposed to be there.  Made me think of snow days.  This is not a snow day because I feel guilty somehow.  Snow days are guilt free days.  That's the law.

At least it's the law where I grew up on the northern plains.  It could snow several feet and be 20 below and we still had to go to school.  And, yes, I walked to school in the snow.  So when it was ever announced that there would be NO SCHOOL, it was like winning the lottery.  First disbelieve, then double check the numbers.  NO SCHOOL.  We win!!! 

The test of a true snow day meant you couldn't open your front door against the weight of a 10-foot snow drift.  A northern snow day meant no ordinary vehicle could move through packed snow, even with chains strapped to the tires. 

One of the all-time record snow falls occurred when I was about 11 years old and living in Aberdeen, S.D.  It happened just after Thanksgiving because my grandmother Eskelson and both grandmother and grandfather Lochridge were stuck in our home for several days.  My mom could probably recall some good stories about this one, but she might also have wiped that memory for her own mental survival.

My mom was all too happy for us kids (6 of us) to "play" outside once the wind stopped howling.  I can't come up with the right words to describe what this snowfall had done to the once-flat landscape.  Reshaped it, for sure. There were hills and valleys and even mountains now, just outside our backdoor.  Let the exploration begin.

We headed out the backdoor. The top layer of the newly fallen snow had hardened, allowing us to walk atop the endless white field before us.  Our steps crunched as we gingerly put one foot in front of the other, understanding a misstep could result in a leg being swallowed by the hungry snowdrift.  Even when our step broke through, we knew just how to shift our balance and retrieve the appendage.  Onward, slowly but surely.

I recall my brother John and me and some other neighborhood kids were plowing slowly across this snowfield.  In the distance, we saw the ballpark's lonely green scoreboard rising above the white field. Raising its head, an invitation to play.  In that instant, it became our destination.

We knew it well - the ballpark that was home to the Aberdeen Pheasants, a baseball farm team of the Baltimore Orioles.  We had spent hours playing in the scoreboard after season.  It was like a clubhouse.  Access was a cinch, easy climb up the fence to a platform that led into a room behind the big scoreboard.  The door was never locked.  It practically belonged to us off season. And what was more off season than the aftermath of one of the state's worst blizzards?

Climbing up to the platform after record snowfall was not easy.  The snow gave under our feet.  We were not dissuaded, could not be dissuaded. We bravely scaled Mt. Scoreboard and claimed the entire ballpark as our own that day.  From our view atop the mountain, we took in our beloved baseball field covered in snow.  It was a gigantic bowl of snow with the green tips of the fence holding it together, preventing the snow from spilling over.  Another invitation seemed to call. 

What I remember, without words, we all began jumping - from our position on the fence or scoreboard platform - into the white snow.  Then we climbed back up and jumped again into what used to be centerfield.  Time was suspended that day.  We existed in a different world.  And we were in command of this new wonderland.  Until our wet feet and hands took over.  We surrendered eventually to the pain and exhaustion and headed back to the real world.  

I often think of that day and occasionally try to share it with others, but it doesn't translate well in conversation. It's one of those experiences you truly had to be there.  I'm so glad I was. 

Killer dream

I had a weird dream last night.  I was part of a covert operation, a group of us really well-trained and sneaky spies had infiltrated... I am a little fuzzy on what we were infiltrating but mostly it seemed like a complicated house, then it was a neighborhood, then a house again.  It seems like at times I was spying alone, but on the periphery I always sensed the presense my cohorts.  Thing is, we had to kill someone. That was the mission.  Wait until innocents were out of the picture, then do the deed.  The person we were killing, a man, was a monster human mistreating people, kids even.

Whew.  I don't remember having a dream before about killing someone.  Not in this manner.  No worries about Paul.  He's still the love of my life.  I can't honestly think of anyone I really hate.  Oh wait.

Newt.

Hmmm.  he's been surging in the polls so I keep seeing his image. You can't escape it really.  I don't typically listen to what they're saying.  Can't really stomach it.  And, I just I read a book over the weekend that had spies and bad guys.  Put two and two together and you get wishful assassination. 

What a relief!  My subconsious homicidal thoughts are totally healthy.  For the record, I don't wish Newt dead.  I just wish he would go away.

Solid marriages

Marriage is like cement.  It takes time to solidify. 

I am listening to an author, Tim Keller, talk about the institution of marriage.  He says people wrongly think marriage is about their own personal fulfillment. Marriage is something that will make them happy.  Now that is funny.

Essentially, he's saying marriage is more about the creation of an institution.  And, to build an institution takes what?  Commitment. Time. Selflessness. You get the idea. 

Problem is, that takes muscle - mental and physical.  A person has to entertain the notion that they are not perfect, nor is their partner.  If a couple can get past that obstacle, they begin the swim upstream against popular culture to keep the institution alive. Good news: All that swimming is what builds the muscles to strengthen the institution.

So why work so hard and sometimes even suffer for the institution?  Because marriage and other lifelong partnerships are pretty cool ways to live life. 

What do you think Paul??????

Grass is always greener

The grass is always greener on the other side.  I was reminded of this most valuable lesson this week - for the 343rd time.  For some reason, it's a lesson that never seems to stick. 

I returned my smartphone yesterday.  A droid.  It was bright and shiny and I don't miss it one bit.  I am so glad to be using my old, scratched up, 2 mega pixel camera phone without video, without games, without internet, without ... you get the idea.

I don't need all that.  Who cares about touch screen this, touch screen that, movies and tv streaming, music up the wazoo (what is a wazoo?).  I prefer a simpler way of living.  I am not a slave to electronic gadgets. I have much better things to do with my time...

... such as play with my new Kindle Fire which is supposed to arrive today!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Infuse gotta go

I got an android (droid) on Sunday.  My contract was up so I was up for a new phone.  Braden, our sales clerk at the kiosk in Costco, talked me into a Samsung Infuse.  He didn't have to do much talking really.  I took the bait pretty easy.  Not to say he was invested in any way regarding the phone I bought.  Anyway, it's too big.  4.5  screen.  More than an inch larger, which doesn't seem like much, but trust me, it is.  That's the first reason I'm taking it back.

Second reason: It's too confusing.  For me.  I just found a call I missed - by accident.  Found the call by accident, missed it because the phone is confusing for me to understand where everything is.  I know there is a learning curve, but it seems to be unnecessarily difficult.  Others online have made similar comments.  So it's not just me.

Third, I can't figure out how to tell the phone not to make that cute sound EVERY time I get an email.  I haven't slept in two days.  Last night at 2 a.m. I finally figured out why I have been waking up.  I heard the damn thing.  It's like an alarm.  3 a.m. the night before.  Last night I got up and put the phone in the bathroom, covered it with a towel.  I finally fell back to sleep.
So. Now the question is: do I go to an I Phone?  Or back to a regular phone, 3 mgpixel on camera, yada, yada.  Wow.  I don't want to have to know that much about my phone.  I'm starting to miss rotary dial.

Happy Veteran's Day?

Just listening to a morning show talk about this current group of veterans.  There are 2.4 million of them.  They were described as "ghosts" going to war and returning largely unnoticed by us - the public - unlike wars of the past when returning vets were seen and heard.

It made me think about what I would say to the 2 young vets I work with, one who recently served in Iraq.  Saying Happy Veteran's Day just doesn't sound right.  It's what I said earlier this morning to my dad and husband.  But this new group of vets, I just don't think Happy Veteran's Day will cut it. It seems a little superficial.  Hmmmmm...

Good job? Nope, doesn't sound right.
Thanks for going?  Nope.
Don't forget your free donut at Krispy Kreme today!  Getting closer.

How about, thanks for serving and don't forget your free donut at Krispy Kreme!

That's the one.  It's got a better balance.  Sincere AND superficial.  Not too sappy, but a little sappy.  And, I'm sorry, but donuts always make everything better.

So.  Just to be clear, what we're saying is, please take this free donut as a token of our gratitude for you putting your life and sanity on the line for our freedom. 

The truth is, words and deed are not adequate to express the country's gratitude.  But they are a start.

For the record, to all veterans, including my dad, my husband and co-workers: Thanks for serving and protecting our freedom. 

Pics of beloved baby Finley - and a couple of Addie, too

I'm back!!

My last blog post was in July.  I thought I had stopped blogging, but it turns out I just got consumed by life.  Here are the bullet points:

• Left the Women's Center after a 15-year association.  First as a volunteer - for 7 years almost - then on paid staff since 2002.   It was emotionally traumatic.  I hurt my beloved boss.  I lost ongoing collegial relationships.  I ended a part of my life I truly loved.
• Started a new job at a homeless shelter as transitional housing coordinator.  Love the work.  Admire most of my colleagues.  Learning a new job is exhausting.
• Record summer heat.  We broke heat records.  OK?????
• Last, but MOST important, was the arrival August 24th of Finley Lew Scott.  I took on the job of running  interference with big sister Addie.  I can honestly say Addie appears now to be on board with the idea of an expanded family.

Whew.  I missed you, blog.