An Occasion

I'm not sure I can do the thoughts justice, but I'm going to give it a try anyway.

All day Thursday--from the minute I got out of bed--I was anticipating the night. Dinner with my loves to celebrate a birthday. I had a particularly heavy delivery day right from the start, but it didn't deter my mood. Anticipation has a way of doing that.

All three kids were working so I knew that they would not be getting bored while waiting, rather they would welcome the time to relax a bit. My son had picked an Italian restaurant in town where we would meet. I was there first.

As they piled out of the truck I could see that my youngest hadn't done as I had asked...'dress like it's an occasion'. He was wearing his usual gym shorts, a tee shirt and his baseball cap. My daughter was wearing some casual and appropriate shorts and a pretty shirt. The birthday boy had to work late so he was still wearing his work garb. Carhhart pants and a bright orange construction shirt. As it turned out, I was the only one who 'dressed like it was an occasion'. Oh well, we were all wearing smiles so who really cares beyond that?

An economic downturn does wonders for a family of four that can't decide where to eat 'til the last second. We walked in and were seated immediately.

It was so nice to be with them. It's because of them that I now know what delightful means, because when I am with them I am FULL of delight. Our interaction and banter wasn't anything out of the ordinary. There was talk of the day. There was reminiscing about days gone by. There was hopeful talk of what might be around the next bend in our life's road and my heart welled up inside me in such a way as to say "ahhh, this is what we were meant for. This is love." Each one of my kids has left and is leaving an imprint in my heart. Each one of them is uniquely wonderful. Put them all together and I can scarcely take it all in. If there is such a thing as your heart aching with joy, then I know what that means.

As I drove my way and they drove theirs, my eyes filled with tears. Not tears of sadness, but tears of overwhelming beautiful joy. My tears were my heart--overflowing. My face wet with tears was dressed like it was an occasion.

Because it was.

Sixteen. (and 364)

Tomorrow my son turns seventeen.

Let me tell you a little about him.

He is very inward. There are lots of things about him that people just don't 'get'. His humor is very dry (and I doubt it'll ever get wet). His mind is always in gear. He can work circles around most anyone. He is intensely competitive. He is kind. He is generous. He cracks me up. He infuriates me. He is strong. He is brilliant. He uses few words. He loves to learn. He hates to lose. He's protective of his mom and his sister--not so much his brother. He is my son.

Tomorrow he will receive a handful of gifts and he will smile warmly. And in that exchange between his eyes and mine we will both be the recipients of the greatest gift-- love.

Happy Birthday my boy!

Bright Son Shine

All three of my kids are very bright (I think they got it from their mother). My daughter set the bar pretty high. At the high school she attended they have 20 of the best parking spots reserved for the senior students with the highest GPA's. She had spot number 19 (they're alphabetical).
Now, the school isn't huge, but it isn't tiny either. I'd say there are about 900 to 1000 students attending, so that's pretty good, I'd say. She graduated with a 3.9 GPA.

My oldest boy will be a senior this next fall at that same high school and it has been his goal to get one of the coveted parking spots his sister had. So far it's lookin' good. His cumulative GPA is 3.88 as I sit here now. Which is quite an accomplishment. (No, not the 'sitting here now' part!) He broke his thumb on his right hand late in the fall while playing soccer and had pins inserted to repair it. That meant he had to do everything with his left hand for 8 weeks. Not only that, but he took a week and went to Washington D.C. to attend a National Young Leaders conference and, since it was an event not sanctioned by the school, but completely independent of it, he wasn't allowed to make up missed work. Did I mention 'bright'?

And then there's my youngest. He is bright of a different color. He loves baseball, but he LOVES politics and current events. Politics to him is what baseball cards were to me as a boy. When he has a free minute he will get on the computer and hit two or three political sites to see what the pundits are saying. Not only does he know all the leaders' names of most every country in the world, he can pronounce them too!

Two of his favorite worlds recently collided; Baseball and politics. His Babe Ruth team qualified for the state tournament and, as luck would have it, it is being played right here in my home town. On Tuedsday night they had an opening ceremony where each team was announced one player at a time. While he and his teammates were waiting their turn, the mayor of the city--who I know--was waiting to help throw out the ceremonial first pitch. While waiting, the mayor sauntered over to me and we engaged in some small talk about this and that. In the course of our conversation he told me that he was sharing the first pitch duties with a local 'boy' who had played on this same field who was now pitching in the majors for the Philadelphia Phillies and while we spoke the 'guest' walked in and the mayor went to greet him. Now, my son was watching all of this so I ran over to him and told him all the particulars about who the guest was and what he was going to do. The news spread like wildfire amongst his teammates and soon there was a lot of whispering and pointing going on.

On the ride home, after a few somewhat quiet moments, my boy says to me, "Dad, you know what I noticed?" To which I answered, "A lot of things, I'm sure, but...what?" "Well," he said, "one minute the mayor was talking to you, and the next he was talking to a big league pitcher! It seemed like he was much more himself with you." It was as if a light went on. As a politician, not only do you get to talk to cool people, but you might meet professional athletes, too!

:)

Dear Sun,

I just wanted to tell you how nice it's been to see you these past few days. Life just feels better when you're around. Well, you're always a 'round', but you know what I mean.

About a month ago I was wondering if you were EVER coming back. But, now you have and it's a good feeling. I don't even mind so much when you play 'hide and seek' up there behind the clouds, as long as I know you won't be gone for long.

I guess it's just because I think you're brilliant and warm and your presence just lights up my life. Sometimes when I look right at you I get tears in my eyes. You have that affect on me, sun.

I'm not sure this is true, but it seems like you stay away for long periods of time--like months--and then you reappear for such a short time. If you only knew how much I miss you when you're gone! Don't go away, okay? Not this time.

Oh I totally understand the nighttime thing. It's cool. But, it's that extended leave thing that you do that gets me. I mean, why would you want to leave this place? It's beautiful. And even more so when YOU are here.

I guess I've made my point, haven't I?

I'll see you in the morning.

Just you and me.

We'll have coffee!

~John

Eye Can See Clearly

On days like today, when the sun is bright and life itself seems to be hi-def, I find myself wanting to slow down and let the brilliance soak into my very soul; To close my eyes, point my face toward the sun and just enjoy the feeling. And the fact that I can feel at all. But when I do open my eyes I can't help but notice a myriad of things that make me want to thank God for implanting in me this thing called enjoyment. Here you will see a few of things I enjoyed today:
The first one is one of my favorite roads--it's virtually a tunnel and when it's warm and sunny everywhere else it's cool in the 'tunnel'.
In the second one, if you click on the picture you'll see there in the middle an older gentleman working his garden. It just looks so 'Americana'.
The house is an old one built around 1860 and is now a bed and breakfast. I just love the impeccable paint job and the way it seems to have been frozen in time.
The last one is simply a bunch of flowers growing wild and bowing to the breeze if for no other reason than out of respect.

What's not to enjoy?

Summer nights (and some aren't)

As a kid growing up in southern California, summer mornings usually started out with a layer of marine air--aka fog--followed by a midday burn off and some haze and warmth. Here however, the mornings of summer are mostly like the rest of the year--a guessing game. The sun may come out or it may not. But lately we've had summer days like the ones I remember as a kid. The fog. The burn off. The warmth. And here? There's an added bonus. The sun stays up till 9 p.m. and we get sunsets like this! (and the rivers aren't made of cement)

Simple Joy

I am a simple man, as you can tell by my blog design, but I am not simplistic. I have found there is no need for grand extravagance to find joy. All you need do is to notice what makes you smile. For me, it is these:

The smell of the coffee beans when you first open the bag.

A breeze that lingers in the blinds.

The way my daughter sings/says "aww" when she thinks something's cute.

The tenacity in my boy's eyes when he runs the basepath.

Seeing the steam rise out of my coffee cup while sitting in the morning sun.

The way my son works.

Throwing rocks at the lake.

Being woken by the brightness of sunshine.

Realizing that I am loved.

Watching my kids be themselves.

The promise of a day with sunshine AND heat.


I am a simple man, but joy is also simple. If you find it you will have found grand extravagance.

Allergy Schmallergy!

Okay, so what if I'm allergic to summer, I've got to live with it. So today my youngest and I went to one of our favorite summer spots which is this freezing cold water stream with an amazing waterfall. Not many people even know about it around here. At least, that is what I surmise each time we go there and we are the only humans there.

The entrance to the creek is just a few feet away from the road, which is a meandering somewhat uninhabited country road that is flanked by the river on one side and woodsy hillsides on the other. The drive itself is almost worth the effort, but really it's the creek that makes it worthwhile for us.

For the first minute or so we try to traverse the edge of the water so as to keep our feet out of the frigid water. And when I say frigid I mean it's the kind of cold that makes your ankles ache right there in the back where your Achilles meets your heel. Bone chilling cold. But after your foot slips off the top of a mossy, slippery rock you simply succumb to the the facts. You will get wet. Your bones will ache. For a while.

We had a great time today realigning the flow of the water. That is to say, moving rocks and limbs out of jambed up crevices to allow the water to rip through in a new direction. Once we reached the waterfall we sat in the sun on the mist-soaked rocks and enjoyed the awe of it all.

Suddenly I'm not so allergic to summer after all.

It's Official...

...I can tell by the my scratchy throat, my runny nose and watery eyes.

I'M ALLERGIC TO SUMMER!

How it really happened

Once, in the town of Joyville there lived a man named Jimmy John Joseph Kruk. Although that was his given name, if he had a preference--which he rarely did--he preferred to be call simply 'Kruk'.
Kruk was a recluse that lived on the east side of Joyville. It is said around town that what caused him to hide away in the cabin he called home was a childhood scare. It seems that when he was a boy and the Kruks lived over on the west side near the river, Kruk had wandered off by himself as boys are prone to do. His wandering led him down to the river's edge where he happened upon a mud bog. Well, as boys are also prone to do, he got a little too curious there and before he knew it he was waist deep in mud. Stuck he was. He was stuck some say for hours. Finally, as night was tripping into a full fall, his brother found him and rescued him. From that day forward Kruk was more likely to be found indoors than out. He did not like out. No matter how hard the town's folk tried to entice him, he did not venture out. After a while they gave up trying.

Now in this same town lived a diminutive girl named Stacey. Stacey may have been small, but she was large in spirit. In fact, she was known to skip around town saying, "I may be tiny, but I am mighty and someday I will do what not one of the rest of you can do." While she herself wasn't sure what that meant, the rest of the town was convinced she was right.

One summer night near the end of a summer that was peculiarly dry and hot, Little Stacey was seen running full-speed from the river straight way to Kruk's house. All the while she ran, she sang "I may be tiny but I am mighty, I may be tiny but I am mighty". No one is sure why, but on this particular night the way she sang it piqued the curiosity of all who heard it. She sounded as if she had a mission and tonight was the night. The curiosity was such that the townfolk followed her all the way to Kruk's house. When she arrived she ran right in without so much as a knock, much less a hesitation. A few moments later, to the surprise of all that had gathered--which included by this time a photographer for the Chronicle--Stacey emerged with a smiling Kruk on her arm. Someone shouted, "what happened Stacey? How did you do this??" To which she happily and triumphantly replied, "There's no mud in Joyville. The mighty Stacey has Kruk out!"

Shingle and Re-tired

I have some interesting people on my route. I guess in some way or another everybody is interesting. To somebody. Anyway, as has been my practice in the past I'm going to show you a picture of somebody's house. The interesting somebodys that live at this particular house are artists...can you tell?? Check out the shingle work!
(Look closely at the roof. It's made out of tires. Yes. Real tires.)

Things I Don't Get

Many times during a day I will find myself saying this to myself: "I wonder why that is." I mean, let's face it, there are lots of things I just don't get.

For instance--today, in a field that had just been cleared of it's wind rows of grass for silage, I saw 21 bald eagles. Twenty one! They were scattered all about a field of about ten acres or so and every one of them was facing the same direction. Not one of them looked as though it was going anywhere anytime soon. It was as if one of them--the leader, I suspect--called a meeting and they were waiting for it to begin. Weird. Very, very cool, but weird nonetheless.

Another little something that I don't get, and it bugs me to no end--why is that anyone would go UNDER the posted speed limit? After all, the road has been specifically designed for a vehicle to travel at a particular speed. They post the speed on a sign. Pretty simple. Essentially, the sign is saying 'It's safe to travel 55 MPH on this road' and yet people take it into their own hands to mistrust the engineers who studied and computed the speed limit and proceed at a snail's pace. To me, it's like going to the store with a 50 percent off coupon and telling the checker, "No, really. I only want 30 percent off. Whoever handed out these coupons must be nuts, you'll never make any money this way. 50 seems way outta line! 30 will be fine, thanks." It makes no sense at all to me.

And lastly....what ever happened to courtesy? Where did it go? How did it become passe? I sat at a crosswalk in front of a high school for what seemed like an eternity today because most of today's kids have no courtesy. None. They meandered in front of me like those cows that never come home; like ants that couldn't find their farm. To say that they were oblivious would be giving them too much credit. They were ignorant of oblivion. Maybe one of the new courses next year should be "How to behave in a society full of people that care about others." I doubt anyone would care to sign up.

Rain Rain Go Away

Washingtonians don't tan, we rust.

Here it is the 6th day of June and the sun has yet to be seen this month.

We have a rain festival here in Washington. It runs from January 1 until December 31.
It's not exciting, but 50 million slugs can't be wrong.

May we rust in peace.

I Got The Music In Me

I found this fun little widget today on another blog so I thought I'd try it.

They say you can learn a lot about a person by the music he/she listens to...but who are "they" and what do they know anyway??These are a just a snippet of some of my favoritest songs.

I hope it works.

On Being Content

See this picture? Of course you do, I doubt I have any blind readers. See that mountain? It's beautiful huh? Yes it is. I took that picture not all that long ago of Mt. Baker, which I can see from my front window many, many days....Okay, maybe if you subtract that second 'many'. The thing is, I can't see it today. It is gray and drizzly and by most standards--dismal. But the mountain is still there.

Beauty is still beauty even when covered in gray.

Being content takes a lot of work. It takes knowing that what you see is not all there is. There is so much more to the picture. That's called faith. I can imagine many things, but I can't imagine a life without faith, can you?

No More Weeding for Me

There are lots of things that bug me about things I've heard in church in my lifetime. Ever since I was a wee lad (I just love saying that in an Irish brogue, by the way) the fact that the Bible says that the streets of heaven will be paved with gold just hasn't landed well in me. I mean the whole of the holy book is about life beyond here and in 'the kingdom come'. So why would the place we long to go to be advertised in such a materialistic way? Where's the anticipation in that? Trading one materialistic world for another?? Well, today when I was pulling weeds in my backyard ( I know, what a lame time to be thinking about such things, but hey, I was thinking about the curse of man and how it is our lot to toil all of our days on this little green Earth God gave us. So it's lame....consider the source) it hit me. Are you ready?? The reason the streets will be paved with gold is because the stuff is so plentiful and of so little value compared to the rest of heaven, they're going to use the stuff as asphalt!!!

Talk about an epiphany :)

I think it's a good thing every so often to sit and ponder what it is in your life that you take for granted. Because when you begin to appreciate the little things, you can no longer accuse yourself of taking them for granted.

I like to play softball. I've been playing for around twenty years and I still enjoy it a lot. Not that I want to get all braggy on myself but, I can still play. On my Monday night team (I play on a different team on Friday nights) I am 'the old guy'. It's a co-ed team with players ranging from 19 to 48--which of course would be me. I play outfield. Wherever they want to put me is fine. I love to run and dive and catch and throw. All of it is just excellent!

Essentially, what I'm saying is: I am glad that even though I have an extremely physical job, I still have a healthy enough body to play a game that I enjoy that lets me feel like I'm still a boy every time I play it. It may just be a little thing, but it IS the little things we take for granted.

As you might well know by now, I am a big fan of words; how they fit together, how they come apart and why we use the ones we do when we do. I have never studied these things formally--I don't even own a suit--but they're a part of my thinking and since this little blurb is about my mind, well....what did you expect?

For example, if you study theology you're a theologian, but if you study geology you're a geologist.
If you make a comment you're a commenter, yet if you comment on television you're a commentator. Well, I may just be a common tater, but I can tell you that it just doesn't make sense.
If a fly flies by and then flies out a window, you say, "It flew out the window." But if a baseball player hits a fly and someone catches it, he flied out. Some of these things just don't fly with this here guy.
When you drive too fast it's called speeding and you, as the driver, are a speeder. But if you drive in manner that is reckless you are not recklessing, nor are you called a recklesser.
These are the silly little things that go through my mind all the time. It's nothing to lose sleep over. But then again...how does one LOSE sleep?

Just a boy in the woods

I grew up going to church, singing hymns and listening to sermons. I was taught that this was worship. And while I still believe it to be true, as I have grown in my spirit and in my want to be closer to God, places like these have become my cathedral.



Where robins sing in rounds and the silence in between sounds like grass waiting for wind. Where the color of green against sky blue pales to the splendor of the heart in you.

Like Dog, Like God

Have you ever noticed how we as humans tend to affix human qualities, thoughts and words into and onto non-human things? It's called anthropomorphizing. We do it all the time. I know I do. I mean, if you've read here before you've no doubt noticed that I try to interject my thoughts into various animals and birds all the time. There's nothing wrong with it. In fact, it's really kind of fun! The Far Side is the epitome of anthropomorphizing and, in my ever humble opinion, is fantastic! One of my faves.

Why do you think dog is a man's best friend? Because you can pretend your dog is thinking ANY thing you want him/her to be thinking. If your real best friend sat in your passenger seat and never spoke a word and slobbered on your window would he/she still be your best friend? Just because they look at you in a way you think you can interpret?? How many times do you hear someone say, "Awww, he just loves me! Look at him, he's thinking 'what a great person my owner is.'"? Or something similar. But what if the dog is really thinking in dog--not human--and it goes something like this: "big round eyes, wag tail, get better food." Or what if, when a robin sits atop a tree on a sunshiny morning chirping out it's delightful melody, it's not really celebrating the fact that it's a bright, cheery morning, but instead is sounding off to the other birds in the neighborhood..."hey you schmucks! Wake up, these worms aren't gonna last all day!" We have no idea, so we fill in the blanks with our own, human words and sentiments. And usually in our own language, because I don't know about you, but I just can't imagine cows speaking French.

Unfortunately, we do the same thing with God. God is not merely a super human with super human powers. No, He is GOD and even though we are created in His image, we are not God. Not even close. Which one of us is everywhere right now? Which one of us can create something from nothing? Which one of us can even fathom that? We say things like, "God must be angry" or "that makes God very sad", which may or may not be true in any given circumstance, but we are thinking it in human terms because we're human. But God's sad or glad or angry are not the same as our human versions of those things. In the same way that we cannot be everywhere at once, we cannot have all these emotions at once. In the same way God can be (and is) everywhere at once, He can have all these emotions at once. We affix our limited suppositions on The God that is humanly unknowable and in the process we make Him very weak and small. Like ourselves. I know I do. And He loves me anyway!