Slow Down

The day after Thanksgiving (AKA, Black Friday) is here. It is meant to be the beginning of the Christmas shopping season. I had to work today so I missed the mad rush for low priced items that the retailers dangle in front of shoppers much like the candy house the witch set to trap Hansel and Gretel. I confess that I have only participated in the Black Friday one time and frankly I was disappointed. I was not shoved out of the way by aggressive shoppers, nobody tried to wrench the last "widget" out of my hands and the advertized deals were not that spectacular.

I have long thought that the push to move the Christmas season to begin earlier every year is just wrong. I understand why retailers do it, but there is something about seeing Christmas items in a store just after Halloween that makes me a little sick. My son Miller shares my distain for the practice. We all seem to be in such a hurry to do things, to have events come so we can get on with the next thing on the list.

Recently we learned that the property next to ours would soon be under construction to become a new home. The new owner's brother in law has been employed to do the dirt-work.. He is really enthusiastic often starting up the huge diesel bull dozer at 6:30am to begin the work (yes even on Thanksgiving morning). Today he managed to dig up and cut the phone line to our house. Qwest can't get there to fix it until next week, apparently all of their repair staff are hitting the "day after" sales today. My wife talked with "bull-dozer Boy" this morning to let him know that he had cut the phone line. He expressed little remorse at causing the inconvenience. Melinda described him as a thin version of "John Candy" and figured that short of pulling him out of the excavator and beating the crap out of him she would get no satisfaction from further discussion. She described the scene to me by cell phone since I was at work before construction started for the day. Melinda and I understand the excitement of the owner to get his home built and moved into.

I am going to try to be less hasty this holiday season and may re-read the section in the Lord of The Ring trilogy about the Ents to get hints on how to be less hasty. I recently saw a sign that intrigued me, it was on a County road near the booming metropolis of Lieter, WY. The road is frequented by methane field workers traveling from the methane gas wells in the county. They are notorious for driving too fast. The sign sums up my feelings, the sign simply reads; "SLOW DOWN YOU SONS A BITCHES". With that slow down and have a Merry Christmas.

Old Shot Guns

It was the opening day of Pheasant season in Wyoming last Saturday. I took the opportunity to hunt pheasants with three friends from work and my fourteen year old son Miller. If you have followed my blog at all you may remember my blog last year about a good day of hunting with a new dog and an old friend. The dog, Sandi, is now 11/2 years old and is better at her job of finding birds than she was last year.

The weather was perfect with temperatures in the high 50s and clear skies. Sandi performed well coming to "point" on several pheasants and then retrieving them after they were flushed and shot. The highlight of the trip for me was being able to spend time hunting with my son. He was pretty excited when he shot his first pheasant. I was excited because it brought back memories of hunting pheasants with my father when I was Miller's age. The shot gun he used is the first shot gun I ever bought. The summer before I turned 12, I worked hard mowing lawns so I could purchase a shot gun. We lived in Montana at the time and one Saturday our family traveled to Billings to shop. I had a wad of greenbacks in my pocket and anxiously awaited going to Scheels Sporting Goods to look at shot guns. I purchased a .20 Ga. pump shot gun (my father had to buy it because I was too young) for $40.00. I enjoyed hunting with it for many years and looked forward to passing it on to my own children. I gave it to my second daughter Karlee for a wedding gift because she liked to shoot clay pigeons with it. She was gracious enough to let Miller use it this past weekend.

There is in reality nothing special about this shot gun except for the memories it stirs up of time spent with people I care deeply about. My father died many years ago and this is just one of the things I have that ties me back time I spent with him. I look forward to being around long enough to have some memories of time spent with children grand children when they come along.

So spend some time with your kids or grandkids this weekend doing something you both like and build some memories that can be passed on.

School Days

My third of four daughters called me the other day and excitedly told me she had been accepted to attend school at BYU-Idaho (The University formerly known as Rick's). She was pretty excited and is now looking forward to continuing her education where her mother and I met. Melinda and I were both happy for her as well.

I have since spent some time reflecting upon my own experiences at this educational haven of bliss in southeastern Idaho. Nearly three decades ago when I attended Rick's College applying to attend was just a formality. If you had a high school diploma, knew your name & address, promised to be a good boy or girl and showed signs of life you were in. The admission standards are stiffer now that this bastion of higher education has evolved from a large Jr. college to a small university. The mere desire to matriculate is not enough.

I remember meeting a strikingly beautiful blonde haired blue eyed woman named Melinda Somethingson on evening about a week before classes were to begin. No, her last name wasn't really Somethingson but I was so smitten by her presence that at the time all I could remember was her last name had "son" at the end. I did however have just enough "on the ball" to ask her to be my date for the evening. To this day I am still not certain why she said yes. We managed to see each other daily after this first meeting and were married several months later.

I gained a great education at Rick's College but more importantly, I met a married the most beautiful woman I have ever met. We have six excellent children and are still married and in love after nearly twenty-seven years. I do not go back to Rexburg without remembering those days.

Boxes of stuff

It has been a long time since I have written in my "blog" but I am breaking the silence today. Our third adult child has "launched", not for good mine you but she is no longer living under our roof. I recognize that she may move back if her plans or circumstances change. She has moved seven or so hours away so she will not be popping in to raid our food supply or use the laundry facilities. I do not know what the future holds of her, but I am excited to see what she will do.

I have probably mentioned that time seems to go faster the older I get and I know this is an old cliché we hear often. I have however found it to be true. I used to think that as more of your children leave home the easier it gets to have the next one go, but to me it just hammers home the fact that they do grow up and leave. One universal truth is that by the time they leave you are most likely ready for them to go, it just seems like it's time. Not that you do not like them anymore but they seem to get stuck if they stay home too long.

There is one big drawback to having a child leave home and that is that they leave things behind. My dear wife spent two or three weeks sorting out a storage room only to find that the vast majority of the room's contents belong to children who no longer live at home. I suggested doing what her mother did when she left home and that is just send the boxes of "stuff" to them as Christmas presents. It is with fond memories that my wife recounts getting a large box from UPS around Christmas from her mother. She was slightly deflated when she opened it to find it full of her "stuff" from when she was a kid. I did see the same box during the recent sorting frenzy and it still contains my wife's childhood "stuff". The daughter who left us today left behind more than boxes of "stuff", she left behind a cat and five new kittens. I do not know what the heck we are supposed to do with them. Presently the kittens are drawing a great deal of attention because they are cute and fuzzy, but I've been around long enough to know that they grow into cats. When I asked Mindy what she was going to do with her cat and kittens I was told "they are my problem anymore, you and Mom can figure it out". My proposed solutions have been determined by my wife, remaining three children and the SPCA to be illegal and immoral and one sister-in-law and some nieces would probably stop talking to me.

I am resigned to be up to my privates in kittens and boxes of "stuff". I wonder what would happen, if the parents were to leave and the children were left behind. Maybe that is why couples serve missions.

It makes a difference if you've been there yourself

Last week my family and I went on a great trip to a family reunion. We drove just over 700 miles to get to Mike & Jenny's place for the reunion. The weather was pretty good, the food was excellent, and the conversation and social activities were excellent. We ate more than normal, played harder than typical, stayed up late(talking in the hot tub) and slept in a bit. It was a great time.

The highland games and paintball were fun for participants and spectators alike. The kids played and occasionally fought with their cousins. The adults talked and caught up on the latest. The Apple Beer was cold. The video festival went for two nights. The water turned brown in the swimming tank and there were plenty of sunburns.

Melinda and I had all of our children and son in laws at the reunion and that was most excellent. Kristine and Brian decided to leave Saturday morning to do some exploring on their way home to Utah. While Melinda and I were ignoring our cell phones, drinking Apple Beer and enjoying our last day at Mike and Jenny's, Kristine and Brian were being towed to Kenneick after having their clutch burn out near Pendelton. By the time Melinda and I had bothered to look at our cell phones and answer the messages left by kristine telling of their plight, Kristine and Brian were sitting in a motel room hoping that their car would be repaired by Monday and that it wouldn't cost too much (not likely to happen on a Saturday night). Once Jenny heard of their situation she began to make phone calls. Within a matter of minutes she had arranged for a car trailer, a shop, a mechanic and a spare car. William, Alex and I drove the spare car to get Brian and the needed parts, Mike met us with the trailer and we loaded up the broken car. At 10pm we off loaded the car and pushed it into the shop. By 11pm Jay (Jenny's cousin the mechanic) showed up and Mike and Jay stayed up all night fixing the car. At 5:30am Mike drove the repaired car into his drive way to await Kristine and Brian, he then went to bed.

I have done some figuring and had Kristine and Brain had to have the mechanic in Kennewick repair the car it would have cost them $600.00 to $1500.00(quite a bit for poor newly married college students), money they didn't have. As it was they ended up with a motel bill for one night and approximately $115.00 in parts.

Melinda and I thanked and thanked again Mike & Jenny for the help. Their reply was" We've all been there before" and "not had the time money or resources to get going" Indeed we could all think of times when family had been there to help us and times when we were to far away and there was no one to help. So I am going to say thank you and name names, I know I will forget somebody, so if I forget to mention you - THANKS. Mike for the time and hard work, Jenny for the awesome phone networking, Jay for staying up all night to fix a car (Mrs. Jay thank you as well for letting him do it), Peter for the shop and the spare car, William and Alex for driving and loading and unloading, trailer dude, thank for the trailer use. Dad (Ron), thank you for the numerous times you pulled Me and Melinda's butts out it when our cars broke down and inconvenient times.

MIKE & JENNY THANKS for the GREAT REUNION!

PS Jamie and Ronalee glad you got home as well.

Grandma takes a trip on Mother's Day

My last blog referenced how fast time flies. I was thinking today that it has been a long time since I've written. Just too busy I guess. To recap, we've had a very snowy early spring, days in the sixties during the week only to be hit by a "butt load O snow" storm each weekend for about four weekends. How much is a "butt load O snow"? I asked a friend of mine that very question as we watched the snow fall. The reply was "I suppose it depends on how big the butt in question is". Point well made.
Now for the most part weather is pretty good. Mother's Day arrived and I being the intensely sensitive husband purchased the right gifts to make my wife happy (she told me what to buy). I even cooked dinner (on the grill of course).
As the day wore on, I tried to reach my dear sweet mother by phone without success. I began by calling my siblings to see if they knew where she was. No answer at Jim's or Pete's, no answer at Cathy's. I did reach George's wife, George was washing dishes or something. His wife informed me that George had not been able to reach Mom but had just finished a phone call with Cathy who told George that Mom had been at their home for the day and was now in bed asleep at her apartment. O.K. now I would just have to wait until Monday to call her.
The story was just beginning as I learned when Cathy called to tell me why Mom was home in bed. It appears that while dinning at Will and Cathy's, Mom decided to not sit still but to roam about a bit. Mom slipped out the door onto the deck, she pushed her way past chairs and flower pots that had been placed in front of the deck railing and did a stage dive off of the deck. The problem was she did not go combat boots first but head first, she also failed to notice that there were no fans below her to catch her. Cathy had a prompting to go find mom to see how she was doing and found her laying on her side some four plus feet below the deck on the lawn.
Now before you go thinking that I am a cold heartless @#&%%! Let me assure you I was very concerned that she had been seriously injured by the fall. Mom it turns out was fine, she fell on her "good" side, did not hit her head, did not break her hip which has already been repaired, nor did she blow out her artificial knees (yes a doctor checked her out, X-rays and the works and he is amazed as well). She did get some bruising and is a bit sore. I do not enjoy hearing of Mom's unfortunate escapades, but you know sometimes all you can do is laugh. I called Mom on Monday to see how she was doing, "fine" she replied. "So how did it go with the doctor?" I asked. "How did you know about that?" she asked. Jeeeze Mom! You took a dive off of the deck at Cathy's house how in the heck do you think I found out about it?" I replied. "Cathy worries about me doesn't she" Mom commented. "We all worry about you Mom just like we worry about a three year old playing on the interstate!" I emphasized.
My mother has developed an extreme case of "denial" she denies she is legally blind except when it saves her on her taxes, she denies that she is deaf in one ear, has trouble following conversations and makes off the wall statements in reply to questions. In deed I imagine that the reason she did not yell or scream during and after the fall was because she thought that if she just lay there long enough to get her feet under her nobody would notice. She could get up and play it cool, respond to questions about why the deck railing lay shattered on the lawn by saying "how should I know", "maybe it was aliens" or better yet just blame the grandkids or family dog.
I know that as I have attempted to escort her amidst her protest of "I know where I am going let go of my arm" or better yet her Inspector Clouseau impression "I know that! I know that! Don't be ridiculous!" only to watch her step off the curb into the path of a bus.
I guess growing up during the "Great Depression" fosters some denial of how crapping things really are. Perhaps we'll all develop the denial thing as we age or as the economy gets worse. For now though even though my mother does some goofy things I love her very much, all in all she has done a good job raising five children, part of that time without a husband. Like it or not I do some goofy things on occasion but my wife and kids are there to call me on it.

Time Flies

It has been a busy month. I do not think it will slow down much until after "the wedding" next week. I had the chance a not long ago to attend a Daddy Daughter event at the church. My daughter Mary was pretty excited about it and continually reminded me of the up coming event so I would not forget. Upon arrival myself and a couple of other Dads were escorted into a room obviously decorated by 8 year old girls. My daughter showed me where I was to sit. While we waited for the rest of the fathers to arrive I watched how excited and proud the girls were as they sat with their fathers. Obviously this was a big deal for them. I felt some anxiety for the two girls who stood anxiously in the hall waiting for their fathers to arrive. I imagined that they were worried that something would hold them up or perhaps they had forgotten. An expression of extreme relief came across their faces as their fathers came down the hall.

Last week the elementary school Mary attends was having their "doughnuts for Dads" deal. This along with "muffins for Moms" has been a long standing tradition at the school. Mary was pretty excited about having me go to the event, I certain some if the excitement had to do with free doughnuts. I watched the other children with their fathers getting doughnuts, milk, juice or coffee that morning. The children were just excited to spend time with their Dads. Both of these events did not take much time out of my busy life but they meant a great deal to Mary and to me.

Last weekend Michael tested for his red belt black stripe. He did very well and now is faced with learning some more forms and weapon techniques so he can test for his black belt in the next few months. I am amazed at how much he has grown in self confidence since beginning Kyukido. It has been good for him. He has a tournament coming up in two weeks. I asked him if he was going to compete in "forms" and "sparing" both. He said he wanted to do both. I asked him if he was ready to take some possible head shots in the "sparing" competition. He replied that he was. This is not the answer he would have given me two years ago. When he started, he wouldn't even spar in his first tournament. Now that he is eighteen and high enough in rank, blows and kicks to the head are allowed in the tournament sparing competitions. As a father I have my concerns that he'll take a hard round house kick to the side of the head and in spite wearing the required headgear, he will be wearing a diaper and drooling in his soup and living at my house for the rest of his life. I really do not think this will be the outcome. He is a pretty gutsy fighter and can handle himself. It is just that Dad thing, you know, unrealistic worrying about your kids. He will graduate from high school this year and in a year may well be in the MTC starting his mission. Time seems to go by faster the older I get.

Time however does seem to move at a crawl during this season of year in Wyoming. The weather is sporadically warm and sunny one day and cold and snowing the next. When the ground isn't frozen, it is muddy. The fishing typically sucks, you can only hunt rabbits (Mary will not let me, bunnies are too cute, and besides I've never been much for rabbit hunting). Wild turkey season starts in April which is too far away. I could tie some flies or reload some ammunition or look at related catalogs. This however, only lends itself to prolonged periods of day dreaming which are frustrating at best. Author Patrick McManus is also not a fan of the season. I guess that puts me in good company. I think I will go through the outdoor gear and bee keeping catalogs I have and do some day dreaming. I'd better get a new eye glass prescription first.

Don't Forget Valentine's Day

O.K, so February began to be an important month for me when I was a kid in elementary school due to the fact that in my school everyone in the class received a valentine from everyone else in the class regardless. That way there would be no hurt feelings, I liked this because I was an odd looking kid with funny eyes and chances are I would not have scored many valentines otherwise. We always spent time decorating old shoe boxes or tissue boxes with our names on them so our valentines could be stuffed into the slot in the top we had cut with blunt scissors. I could relate to Charlie Brown each year when he didn't get any valentines, my own insecurity was that if it weren't for the class policy of a valentine card for everyone I would be holding an empty box at the end of the day. It did not help that my younger brother Jim always insisted that I looked like Charlie Brown, that was when we (like all the other kids we knew) were sporting those parent inflicted buzzed hair cuts with the custom nicks and gouges. At the time I refused to accept this but now looking at those pictures, dang if he wasn't right I looked like Charlie Brown's ugly twin brother. The other great thing about Valentine's Day when you are a kid is the candy. Yeah you know the hearts with words on them like "EAT ME", "MY LOVE", or "SO SWEET". They tasted a bit like tooth paste.

Other great things happened in February for me. Two of my children were born in February. My first child a daughter and my first son were both born in February. I remember taking Melinda into the hospital in a snow storm driving our 1974 Dodge Club Cab Custom 100 pick up truck. Eighteen plus hours of labor, and an episiotomy later Kristine was born. Life would never be the same. I was in a state of stupefied amazement, my wife never looked prettier as she held our child. I could not believe the contortions she had just gone through to give birth. I still can't fully appreciate why women have more than one child, Melinda has done it 6 times, it is most definitely a woman thing. While sitting in that hospital room the next day, Valentine's Day, a question shocked me out of my state of bliss, "So what did you get me for Valentine's Day honey?" my wife asked. I thought to myself "Holy crap!" I'd forgotten about Valentine's Day, with all of the excitement of the birth, being a new dad etc. I had not given a thought to a card, candy or flowers, nothing for my wife. The only response I could think of was "You got a baby what more do you want?" This went over about as well a truck load of pig manure at a 4th of July picnic. She acknowledged that Kristine was much better than anything I, her hopelessly non-romantic husband could ever come up with in a million years even if I had been personally coached in "How to be a romantic guy school" by Saint Valentine himself or Fabio (Fabio was big in those days).

The best thing that ever happened to me in February was getting married. Melinda and I tied the knot on February 11th at the Idaho Falls Temple, 26 years ago. It is a day I shall never forget. It has been one heck of a ride ever since. I do not regret any of it, well except perhaps forgetting her birthday one time and oh yeah there was that one Valentine's Day, and then the time I forgot to ... you get the picture. I remain in love with Melinda and while 26 years ago I did not imagine it was possible to love her more than I did then, I do love her more now. So about now you're wondering what is this dork going to do for his wife for this anniversary and Valentine's Day. Truthfully I am not certain, it is not for lack of thinking about it.

I was at Wal Mart a couple of days ago doing the grocery shopping, my brother-in-law John was with me, we saw two teenage girls admiring a display of large over stuffed heart shaped pillows and giant teddy bears talking about how this one was "so cute" obviously hoping beyond hope that the young lads they had a crush on would see them fondling the pillows and stuffed bears and would get the idea to buy them one. I approached and said "can I ask your advice about something" they smiled and humored me. "Do you think I should get my wife one of these for Valentine's Days". They both assured me that one of the large teddy bears was a guaranteed winner. I suggested that if I gave her a large teddy bear she may like it more than me and I didn't want that. The teenagers replied "no she won't", but I was pretty sure that she didn't want a giant teddy bear. My eight year old daughter over heard my recounting of the story to my wife and while I was putting her to bed she offered "Dad I think you should get Mom the giant teddy bear, she won't get rid of you for the bear, and us kids don't need to worry because she loves us too much". I now know what to get for my eight year old daughter for Valentine's Day. I won't get her lingerie because she has always insisted that lingerie is a gift for the man not the woman. I don't think the reverse is true. I doubt she would be impressed if I bought her a pair of men's boxers with hearts on them that said "Eat Me" for me to wear as a gift to her. The more clothes I have on at this age the better just trust me. So I guess we'll see what I can come up with for Melinda.

To all you in love people out there I hope you have a great Valentine's Day.

How to be a Grandparent

I was looking for books at the local library last night and found one titled "How to be the Favorite Grandparent". The title shocked me. I wasn't looking for anything on grandparents or grand parenting. I did know one needed a book to learn to be a grand parent, nor did I know there was an actual competition between competing grandparents for the love and favor of their grand children. First let me explain, this is in no way meant to reveal that any of my children are expecting a child at this point in time. I do look forward to the day when I will be a grandparent but when that happens fortunately is not my decision. One of my younger brothers, (no not my little brother, I have no older brothers only younger brothers and they are all bigger than I am so I cannot really refer tot hem as "my little brother") fairly recently became a grandfather. He said it had been a major goal in his life, partly due to the fact that his/our grandfathers both died when we were relatively young and our father died before any of us had children of their own.
Jim (my brother) said before his grandson was born that he was going to be the best grandparent ever, I asked how he thought this would happen and he said he was going to let his grandchildren do whatever they wanted at his house and give them money. I think he is on to something.

I do have some recollections of both of my grand fathers. They are good memories for the most part. They were both vastly different from each other and I remember enjoying being with both of them. They both died when I was fairly young so I did not have much of a chance to get a handle on their faults. Grandpa Jim (maternal grandfather) was a tall, relatively quiet man, who liked history. He was always calm and gentle, this was opposite from my grandmother who was stern, verbally abusive and generally not a very happy person. My main memory of my grandfather Jim was a walk we took to a small store near my home, we walked around the store hand in hand as he waited for me to purchase a piece of candy. We then walked home talking as I ate my piece of candy. My Grandpa George (paternal grandfather) was a big, wide shouldered man, not terribly tall but he had a bit of swagger about him, he was loud and for the most part good tempered. My grandmother was small, a good cook and relatively pleasant when I was younger. I remember getting on Grandpa George's train when I was a boy. He was an engineer for the Southern Pacific and Santa Fe Railroad. Needless to say I had an interest in trains as a young boy.

It is interesting that I have a similar goal to my brother Jim. I want to be a grandfather someday. I think his idea of being permissive with the grand children and giving them things is a good one. I intend to teach them important things like "pull my finger", how to bait a hook and catch fish, and to enjoy the outdoors to name just a few. I hope I can be a good grandfather like my father-in-law has been for my own children and his other grand children. He loves them all and they have no doubt that he does. It is fun to watch his eyes twinkle with joy and occasionally fill with tears as he watches them. I will always wonder what it would be like to watch my own father be a grandpa but find great satisfaction with the great job my father-in-law does as a grandparent. My in-laws have never been blessed with a great deal of material wealth but in the eternal scheme of things they are perhaps the wealthiest people I know. My dad used to tell me that "people are more important than things" that is an idea which can be lost in the day to day struggle to make a life in this world but remains true none the less. Like any good grandparent I anticipate thinking that my grandchildren are the smartest, best looking little buggers on the planet and making certain that everyone else knows I think so. It is not just about families it is all about families. Our greatest joys and greatest sadness come as part of being in a family.

One of my bother-in-laws has recently moved in with use as he starts a new job and waits for him home to sell so he can move his family to be with him. I can tell he misses his wife and children. Perhaps being separated from family members even if only for a short and then being reunited gives us an idea of how the final reunion will be with those who have passed beyond this life before us will be. I suppose at some point I will get to see my father be a grandfather and I will have a chance to get to know my own grandfathers who died when I was very young. What a day that will be.