I Forget

Every perfect now and then I get to feel like a child while being an adult. It takes some forgetting to get there, but you can make it happen. Forgetting that your age has nothing to do with how much child is left in you. Forgetting that what others think of you has nothing to do with who you really are. That only God knows who you really are. Or maybe it takes remembering. Remembering to stop and lay in the grass and watch clouds change into a hundred different animals in a matter of minutes, just for you. Oh, and the way the grass makes you itch and how much you don't care that it does. For that matter, you don't much care about anything but that very moment. You are lost in your imagination and there's no guilt or anguish for as far as you can see. Just blue sky, clouds and you.

When did we forget? Is is safer not to savor? Maybe I'm just childish, but I'm going to savor this day, this life.

Little Boy Thoughts

There's a lot of little boy in me, still. I recognized him this morning at church through the fuzziness that tears make when they hang there on the edge of my eye. I was missing my dad. He took us kids to church for the first sixteen or so years of our lives. Never mind that he did it religiously, he did it faithfully. I saw how much my lack of respect for this faithfulness hurt him sometimes. It made me sad.

What I wouldn't give to have him put his arm around me and let me know that I'm doing okay. This father thing is the hardest thing I've ever done. I would put my arm around him and tell him that he did well by me. With the perspective I've gained since being a dad myself, I would tell him how much I admire him now.

The little boy in me will never stop missing him. I have my dad's eyes, and right now they're full of tears.

Somewhere Between

One of my goals in life is to find balance. I know it seems like a rather vague goal. I mean, how does one measure balance? (Just ask that one-legged waitress at IHOP!) Seriously though. Notice. There in the parenthesis is something semi-laughable followed by 'seriously though'. Balance. I have to admit, though, that it's rarely that simple.

On any given day you can find me somewhere between galavant and mosey. Between ecstatic and depressed. Between pensive and thoughtless. Between Iraq and a hard place. (See! There I go again!) Between holding back tears and knee slapping. Between prayer and cursing. Between poetic and idiotic. Between careful and wreckless. Between selfless and self-absorbed. Between real and wannabe. Between useful tool and and useless fool. Between here and there. So, what's my point?? I find myself sliding around on these continuums sometimes at a pace that makes me dizzy. Can that be? Does balance make you dizzy? I don't know, I'm just curious.

A Day Just Like Any Other

If you know me at all, you know that I have a thing for words. A turn of phrase. A pun. A spoonerism. You name it, it's up here in this echo chamber I affectionately call my brain. Granted, it's not always the most calculated or well thought out mechanism in the world. Sometimes I just spew words without thinking that the person hearing them doesn't necessarily have the same thought patterns as me. It can be embarrassing. For instance, today I went into the coffee shop I go to everyday. I mean, EVERY day. So, of course, I figure these people know me pretty well, right? Well, actually I did it without thinking. I walked up to the girl behind the display case full of cookies, muffins and other assorted pastries and said, "I'll have one of those big dickersnoodles." Loud enough so that every soul in the place could hear it plainly. Seriously. I don't know if I've ever seen a brighter red face in my whole life. Oh, and the girl's face was red too!


It's been fairly nice and warm these days so I've been driving with both of my doors open. Feels good! Today as I returned back to my truck after a short conversation with a customer, there were two swallows sitting on the steering wheel. Now, I don't speak swallow fluently, but here's what I heard. Swallow 1: "So this is what it looks like...I bet it's cool being able to drive." Swallow 2: "Yeah! Wouldn't it be great?! I mean, no wind to fight, no getting wet, no cats to contend with? S1:"Can you imagine just pushing that pedal thingy down there and moving without effort? Look! There's a worm! We could squish worms!! S2:What do you suppose the pilot of this...whatever it is, dreams about while he's driving? Uh oh! Here he comes...I'll meet ya on the wire!" ...
...I jumped back into my seat and wondered what it would be like to fly.


The island I deliver on has oodles (there's a scientific word for ya!) of deer. Not just oodles, mind you, but oodles AND oodles! Which is kind of weird now that I think about it. How did all these deer get here? Late night bridge crossings and clandestine rendevous? Anyway! People here are very much into gardening. Not simply vegetable gardens either. I'm talking full-fledged (is there such a thing as half-fledged?) exotic flower gardens. Nothing spells the end to an exotic flower garden like an oodle or so of deer. Especially the famished-after-all-that-latenight-clandestining-deer. So, every effort is made to keep those pesky deer out. Last week I met up with one such effort. It's called a motion sensitive sprinkler! Don't read it again, I'll write it again...motion sensitive sprinkler! I happened upon it at the most inopportune time. Yep. I had a 75 pound package in my arms which, as luck would have it, blocked most of my vision. So there I am, happily making my way toward the front door when suddenly...pfffffft!!! I am mistaken as a deer by the friggin' idiotic moron sprinkler. I had no idea what was happening! Something was angry and I was getting wet! I couldn't see a thing. I dropped the package right there and bolted for the truck! No way I'm hanging around to get peed on by a...who the heck knows what??!!

If it weren't for all those packages my job would be nothing but fun and games :)