A Canadian kid.

My nephew is pretty cool, huh? The city of Richmond, B. C. produced this welcome video to be shown at various venues during the opening of the Olympics in Vancouver starting this week.

I'm proud of that kid!

Punce aton a wime in a funtry car, car away.

That's the beginning of almost every story I tell in spoonerisms. What is a spoonerism, you ask? Well, I'm glad you asked:

spoonerism

1900, but perhaps as early as 1885, involuntary transposition of sounds in two or more words (cf. "a well-boiled icicle" for "a well-oiled bicycle;" "scoop of boy trouts" for "troop of Boy Scouts"), in allusion to the Rev. William A. Spooner (1844-1930), warden of New College, Oxford, who was famous for such mistakes.

I can tell you the whole Cinderella story in spoonerism without much trouble, but writing it takes a bit of explaining.

You see that first line up there? It, of course, would read 'Once upon a time in a country far, far away', but when I wrote it all spoonered-up it looked like this...'Ponce uton a wime in a fountry car, car away.' It's hard enough to read the way I wrote it at the top of this story, but had I not changed it to read phonetically it might not be readable at all. When I'm verbally telling the story I don't have to think at all, it just comes naturally. But I've come to realize that it takes some doing to get it from my head to the page. There are some rules to follow.

For instance, words that start with a vowel are usually just added to rather than switched. Example: Over hand would become Hover and. Alley cat would become Calley at, and so on.

Three word switches are tricky...sometimes. If its a title or a proper noun, let's say, it's not so hard. Three Little Pigs, for instance becomes Pee Thrittle Ligs. That's easy! You swap the first and last and then the middle and last. Piece of cake!! Did I say piece of cake?? I meant ciece of pake. See there? When the middle word is small or starts with a vowel or ties the other two words together it gets left alone. (In actuality, it's neither left nor alone) By the way, sometime I'll write the story of the Pee Thrittle Ligs. It's hilarious!!...especially the part where the wig wad bulf says, "I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll hoe your blouse down!"

So, by now you're probably wondering why oh why oh why is he telling me this stuff. Well, it's because it's Thursday night and my son (who is usually my entertainment) is at a basketball game and I got tired of navel gazing so I decided I'd try to write out the story of 'Rindercella'. (Sometimes, when a word has two distinct syllables that start with consonants you can swap within the word) Are you ready? I'll try to be as phonetically readable as possible....


Punce aton a wime in a funtry car, car away there live a geautiful birl named Rindercella. Now Rindercella was a mare fadin of quine fallity. She lived with her stean ole mep-stother and two sugly isters. They were sad bisters!! They were always telling Rindercella what to do. "Rindercella, flop the moors. Rindercella, bake the meds. Rindercella, thoo dis and thoo dat." Seems like Riundercella was always chooing dores. In the came suntry there live a pransom hince. Now the pransom hince was looking to met garried so he prent out a soclimation warr and fide inviting all the belligible achelorettes to his pig ballace where he was going to throw a bancy fall, hoping to lall in fove.

On the day of the bancy fall the two sugly isters and the stean ole mep-stother were being their usual sad belvs. They ordered Rindercella, "Drend my mess! Bo my sutton! Setch my foos!" Poor Rindercella was bo sizzy waiting on the sugly isters that she had toe nime to ready herself for the bancy fall. Did I mention they were sad bisters?? Rindercella stan up rairs crying as the mep-stother and her stugly ep-daughters hurried off to the bancy fall.

While Rindercella was crobbing and sying she nerd a hoise and looked up. "Oh Rindercella won't you durry, everything will be alright". Rindercella quickly wiped the ears from her ties and asked, "yoo are who?" "Why, I'm your Mary Fod Guther!" replied the woman "Now let's dret you gessed!" The woman maved her wagic mond and said, "boopity bopity bip" and Rindercella looked bore meautiful than any mare faiden ever had. She had on a glowing white fown and the ghost morgeous slass glippers anyone had sever een. Rindercella was jilled with foy! "Now it's off the pig ballace my garling dirl, but remember, at the moke of stridnight everything bill we as buzz wefore." And Rindercella was whisked off in elegant stagecoach pulled by steaudiful ballions.

When she arrived pat the alice, Rindercella was easily stost munning maiden of all. The pransom hince was bitten by her smeauty. When their meyes et they lell in fuv. The est of the revening they nanced the dight away...until suddenly, the strock cluck one, the strock cluck two and Rindercella remember what her Mary Fod Guther had said..."everything bill we as it buzz wefore". Rindercella made a dad mash across the flance door, she strew down the flairs fo sast that she slopped her dripper!! She had toe nime to bo gack to get it. Rindercella disappeared into nark dight just as her tairyfale turned rack into beality.

The dext nay, the pransome hince took the slass glipper throughout the suntrykide looking for priz hincess. It was a sliny glass tipper and he knew it would only fit one mare faiden. He hent from wouse to wouse trying on the slass glipper. And on each foot the sory was the stame...it fidn't dit. No matter how hard they would try they couldn't fake it mit. Finally the pransom hince and his soil lubjects were down to their hast louse...Rindercella's house. He tried it on the stean ole mep-stother and it fidn't dit. On the first sugly ister...and it fidn't dit. The second sugly ister...and...it...fidn't...dit! The sugly isters had rocked Rindercella in her loom, hoping that the flipper would glit them, but at the mary last vinute Rindercella came strying down the flairs just in time to catch the pransome hince. As he slid the slass glipper on her ferfect little put he looked in her eyes and they lell in fuv! And hived lappily ever hafter!!! E Thend

(the storal of the mory is this: if you go to a bancy fall at pig ballace and you want to lall in fuv with a pransome hince...fon't dorget to slop your dripper!!!)

I'm Jealous

If you know anything about me you know that I write a good deal about my kids and how I miss them. I tend to write when I am melancholy, and when I am missing my kids I tend to be that way. I'm not sure which condition causes which, but they seem to be in close proximity most times. But not so today; Today it was matter-of-fact missing.

Today a thought floated through that I hadn't noticed before. I wondered what normal would have looked like had our divorce never happened. Of course it's impossible to know, but wondering isn't such a bad thing, I guess.

What first triggered the wondering was a thought of my son--who is on his way back to school with his step-dad. He had mentioned to me last night as he was leaving that they might stop at the pass to snowboard/ski for awhile if the weather allowed. As I thought of him today I wondered if indeed they got the weather they were wanting...and I was jealous. By virtue of marrying their mother this man gets more time with my kids than I do. And that thought hyphenated into this one: he gets more time and has greater opportunity to impact than I do. It seems that in my heart I am in a competition for the hearts of my own children. It might not be true, but in the deep parts of me it sure feels like it is. Had we never gotten divorced, I wonder if I would have ever realized how badly I want my kids; How badly I want their hearts. Would I ever have been jealous of another spending time with them?

In the Bible it says that God is a jealous God. This always puzzled me as a kid. Why would he be jealous? He is obviously the Father of all, what or who could he be jealous of? I'm beginning to understand. I think God is jealous of the time we spend away from him. I think he's jealous of the way it was meant to be; of how good it could have been; of how it was before he felt like he was in competition for our hearts. I am made in the image of God. I am jealous, too.

Do you know what's missing? Your breath. Your thoughts floating close to mine. The ever so slight glances you and I exchange before the laugh. The comfort of knowing where you are and that you're safe and sound.

The lights don't shine as brightly. The heater doesn't warm sufficiently. Even the best of music has a sad undertone. The candle flame loses it's flicker. Every minute takes an hour. Every heartbeat is a sad, empty echo.

What I'm missing is you. Your presence, my sweet and lovely child. What's missing is you.

I Am Thankful That...

I am in full possession of my faculties.

My senses do what they were designed to do.

If I want to I can remember many, many things.

I am not hungry.

I have experienced music and art and great pleasure.

Physical aching is minimal to me.

My roof doesn't leak.

I have been called daddy, dad, friend, brother, son and husband.

I know what a quenched thirst feels like.

It is better to give than to receive is more than a saying to me.

My heart beats in regular rhythm.

My prayers don't stop at the ceiling.

My blood runs through the veins of three amazing young people.

I understand simple depth.

Enjoyment is not foreign concept.

There's such a thing as coffee.

I am loved incomprehensibly.

I know how tears taste.

I know YOU.

Words to Nowhere

I'm sitting alone in the dark, writing words to nowhere. I'm lonely. And tired of it. It all sounds so pathetic, doesn't it? Especially from a man who has faith in The God that is big enough to make Himself small enough to fit in his heart. Doesn't make much sense, does it? The fact is, I am loved so far beyond the widest edge of my imagination that it makes my head swim if I think about it long enough. And yet this persistent loneliness won't leave me alone. Humanness sucks on Sunday nights. And it doesn't make sense.

Raking in the Wind

We've had a couple of doozy storms these past few days, either that or it was one big storm with a respite built in the middle, how does one ever really know? Which ever the case may be, it rained a whole, whole lot and the wind breathed hard enough to detach a fair amount of leaves from the places they've called home since they were born back in the Spring. Not that I mind, mind you, because it's a spectacle worth watching...from inside. Besides, the rain sounds all that much more impressive when it's falling onto leaves as opposed to grass. Rain, I suppose, enjoys the opportunity to make an impression once in awhile, and yesterday was one such opportunity.

The downside of all of this bluster, of course, is the fact that now there are leaves all over my yard and sidewalks and cluttering up my gutters. These leaves aren't even mine! The tree that formerly housed all these leaves isn't even in my yard, it's my neighbor to the south's and as my fortune has been since I've lived here, or maybe even since the beginning of time, the wind prevails from the south. So it goes. Can I expect green buds in the Spring, cool shade in the Summer and a front row seat to twirling leaves in the Fall without a little payment?

By the time the rain stopped and Wind changed it's name to Breeze I had a decision to make...do I make the effort to rake and pick up leaves now or should I wait 'til I was sure the worst was over? If I get it all cleaned up now I might still have to do it again tomorrow given the fact that it IS Fall after all. On the other hand, if I wait 'til tomorrow the pile might be twice the size.

I got a few funny looks from people driving by while I was raking in the wind, but I found that wet leaves are really cooperative. They just lay there while you pick them up. They seemed uninterested in taking the wind up on it's offer of a free ride, choosing instead to take a ride in my wheel barrow. In the end, I was glad I had decided to do the work now instead of putting it off. Oh sure, tomorrow I may have to rake some more, but the pile will be smaller. That's kind of the way life goes too, isn't it? There will always be something I need to work on about myself and I can either put it off knowing that that work will still be there tomorrow or chip away at it today so tomorrow the pile will be much smaller and more doable and who knows, maybe this is why there's a respite built into the storm. That's just the way things are in this season called the Fall...of man.

Snippeteer

For some reason I've had many little snippets of thought lately, but not many whole, drawn-out, coherent ones. So I thought it might be therapeutic to jot down the beginnings of these thoughts to see what happens. Who knows, maybe I'm just a snippeteer. (It WASN'T a word. It is now) Each thought will be followed by an ellipse, because...


-Do you think it's coincidence that gravity rhymes with depravity?...

-I have never felt like I belonged here, no matter where 'here' was...

-They say pride comes before the fall. And all this time I thought it was summer...

-Life is a stage and God is a magnificent playwright. Tragedy, comedy, romance and adventure are all products of His creativity. How cool that he has a part for all of us to play...

-They are sure a lot of starlings in the world. I wonder if anyone ever listens to the songs they sing or thinks they're beautiful...

-How the heck did that little Jack Russell lose it's front leg?...

-Those people are sitting in the woods, drinking wine and feeding squirrels. Look! Now they're laughing...

-Driving past that road makes me sad, still. I'm healed now, but I still remember how much it hurt when I wasn't yet...

-I miss my dad's old ticking alarm clock...

-What if my hidden talent is unearthing hidden talents and I never find it...

-If it's not good for man to be alone is what I'm being any good?...

-Being weird is one thing I'm satisfied with because it's true and constant...

-I should stop this nonsense...

Painting A Bigger Picture

Today as I was painting the wall in my living room I was thinking. And here's how it came out:


Can a person be a believer in the theory of Evolution and still be alarmed by global warming?

The theory decries that the most fit things continue to evolve and survive. Yet the Earth, in an attempt to rid itself of the very thing (humanity) that is killing it, evolves to a point where those Earth-killers are extinguished, did it (the Earth) not prove that it was indeed the fittest? So why all the fuss? Isn't this the way things were supposed to go, according to their theory?

I, for one, feel badly for people who think 'the bigger picture' only includes Earth and it's inhabitants. I hope their picture evolves into something more.

Does this ever happen to you?

You have the best day you've had in a long time and your heart is seemingly full to capacity with relational joy and a well rounded feeling settles in your soul. And then night falls and there's no one else in the room to share it with.

It happens to me.

Seasoning

The spinning wind bends the trees to a point where the undersides of leaves are showing.

The morning sun is less than direct in it's approach, but warm nonetheless.

Sparrows, robins and swallows all flit and fly in fractal patterns that my eyes translate into beautiful confusion.

There are dry and crunchy leaves skidding down the sidewalk to who knows where.

Life travels forward and back in this musical breeze and the sound it makes rivals any movement or symphony ever played by man.

Summer is slipping away slowly and autumn is overlapping the imaginary boundary of seasons.

Such are the seasonings of life.

Thought Bubbles (popped and otherwise)

I've had several thoughts lately. I know, hard to believe, but they're the kind of thoughts that I have a hard time putting my finger on. But that's usually the case, isn't it? Who's ever heard of thoughts with finger prints on them? Not I.

Anyhoo, here are a couple of brief glimpses into those thought bubbles that float over my head that start with 'F'.

Feelings. Why is that some of them seem to be controllable and others not so much? For instance the feeling of resentment or envy, if you will--not that they're interchangeable, but seem to be close relatives--why is it that I can talk myself out of them almost at will while others--such as affection, for example--seem to have a life of their own? Is it because some feelings are not really feelings at all, but merely thoughts that I attach feelings to? Or maybe it's the other way around. Maybe it's ALL in my mind and I think I want there to be feelings. Maybe my mind is more in charge than I think it is, or want it to be. I know that you can't simply think something without your heart being involved anymore than you can will your heart to stop beating. They both play a part in these things. It would be ridiculous to live by strictly one or the other. You can't live if you're headless and you're already dead if you're heartless.

Forgiveness. I don't know if I've written this before, but I'm positive I've thought it: Forgiveness is for givin' and forgetfulness is for gettin'. In other words, forgiveness is the act of the one giving it despite whether it's received or not. Forgetfulness is what you want to get when you're the one who has wronged. I guess what I'm saying is, as a person who has wronged another person I often times want forgiveness AND forgetfulness when in reality I should just be satistfied with the forgiveness since it is a what has been given. After all, I usually only forget things that are unimportant to me, why do I expect anything else from others? Only God can do both!!

Fat. I'm getting fat sitting around at this computer. I'm going to go excercise!!

Farewell!

This Leaving Thing

I thought by now I'd be used to this; this leaving thing.

I'd walk them to the front door of the kindergarten class, hug them and tell them everything is going to be okay, wave at them one last time through the window in the door and then walk away. And cry.

On that first day of first grade I'd walk them to the bus stop , squeeze them tight as the bus rolled up, and then watch as it rolled away. And I'd cry all the way back to the house.

When it came time for high school the reassurances were less needed (or at least publicly so) but the drill hadn't seemed to change, even though I thought it should have. The minute the car door closed and I was out of their sight I would cry.

It's not that I didn't know that my part in the story was to raise my children to let them go, it was those spaces between the big chapters; those Sunday nights driving home alone after dropping them back at their mother's house. I thought I had already done my crying. I thought I would have become familiar with this pain. But I was wrong.

Friday night my boy and I hugged in the yard in front of my house, he got in his truck and drove away with a wave and a honk on his way to school on the other side of the state. I went inside and cried.

It's a pain I don't suppose I'll ever get used to.

It Never Goes The Way You Want It To

I have had the strangest summer!

On the 16th of June, after having dinner at Carino's with my kids, I hugged them one by one and said goodbye just like I do almost every Tuesday and Thursday in a parking lot somewhere nearby. But this time was different. I would not see them again for forty-nine days. They were off to Maui and then on to Guam for what was supposed to be a working vacation. As it turned out, there wasn't much working, but plenty of vacation. But I digress. I kissed them and hugged them a little extra hard.

I had a couple of projects lined up for myself to keep me occupied. Or, more accurately, to keep me from being preoccupied in missing them. I wanted to put in some sort of patio with either pavers or bricks on the backside of my house. And I wanted to paint several walls in my living room/dining room area. I got started on both projects. I cleared out all the growth of weeds and such in the planned patio area and I took down all my wall hangings and got the walls ready for paint... and then the Fourth of July came.

I wanted to start riding my mountain bike this summer so I hopped on it the morning of the Fourth and noticed the tires needed air. So I rode it down the big hill to the gas station. Remember, it was the morning of the Fourth so there wasn't a car on the road, which means of course, that I hit the light at the bottom of the speedy hill green. When I got to the gas station I had to make an immediate right hand turn, and since I was going pretty fast AND had under-inflated tires my bike went left and I (without my bike) went right...onto the pavement. Was I wearing a helmet? Did I grow up in the 'wear your helmet' era? Of course not silly! So...I broke my collar bone, cracked two ribs and had a couple of pretty nasty hunks of meat missing from my knee.

So now not only do I not have my kids, but now instead of having a time of real productivity, I'm lame. Which is lame. And on top of that? It's been the hottest summer since they've recorded such things around here. I can't work. I can't play. I can't get anything done. And my three favorite people are somewhere around the back side of the globe. Yippee. (dripping with sarcasm)

What I found out, though, was that I have some of the greatest friends and family a guy could ask for. My brothers and sisters, my mom and my ex-in-laws, my local friends and far away ones all cared for and about me in many, many ways. I got phone calls galore. I got meals delivered. I got cookies and cards from friends I've never met personally. I even had friends from my route (over an hour's drive away) 'stop by' to help me pull weeds and vacuum and rearrange furniture to get my house in shape as I was expecting a friend to come visit. Just two days ago I got a care package from a whole slew of people on my route who got together and sent me some funny gag items as well a page and a half full of handwritten well wishes. And even though my ribs hurt from the laughing, it didn't matter. Back behind those ribs there was a heart that didn't seem to notice.

So you see, life doesn't ever go the way you want it to...it goes even better than that!!

I have had the coolest summer!

The quiet breeze is making it's way through the room. After a long day of nearly unbearable heat it is more welcome than usual and yet it fails to help me sleep. I'm tired and uncomfortable. This living alone is wearisome. And I can't tell anyone because that makes it appear as if I'm complaining. I am not. I'm just stating a fact in the same way as saying it was hot today is stating a fact. The problem is, I feel myself turning more and more inward as the days go by due to this silence. And that's just the way it is. Inward isn't such a bad thing, it's just my second preference when weighed along side outward. There will be time in the future, I suppose, that I may switch my preferences.

As for now, I'll say nothing so that the breeze and I have something in common.

Wishin' I Was Fishin'

I grabbed my fishing pole and went down to the river, there where it swirls under the bridge. And while I was there I started to wishin'. Wishin' it was somehow clear, why you're always there and I'm always here. Then I realized, wishin' is a lot like fishin'--it's just me, without you, and lots of water under the bridge.


Now if I could just come up with some verses, I'd have me a country song! :)

Sweet Dreams

I'm a guy who can sleep almost anywhere. I mean, I fall asleep at the drop of a hat. Put a book in my hands and I can fall asleep sitting on a rock! I did it just this morning right here in front of my house. When I travel I can sleep at a stranger's or a friend's house without a problem. I think I can probably sleep standing up. Sleep has never been the problem.

Dreaming is a completely different story. I'm not talking average, run of the mill dreams here...I can do those. I'm talking big dreams. The kind of dreams people ask you about. You know, like when someone says, "What have you always dreamed of doing? Where have you always dreamed of going?" I never have an answer because I don't have those kinds of dreams. At least not until now. I have never allowed myself the luxury of drifting outside my self-made parameters. Oh certainly I can wish for things, but that's not the same as dreaming. Dreaming involves lofty heights and boundless possibilities and dreamy scenarios. Or so I once thought. Now I'm pretty sure I do have dreams, it's just that they are less lofty in nature. I dream about being steady and consistent; about being kind and sincere; about leading with integrity and being honest about my struggles; about loving God and wanting what He wants more than anything else.

Come to think of it...those are pretty lofty dreams!

i sometimes wonder if i imagine there to be more to life than there actually is. is happiness merely a passing fancy that never tires of being chased. and if so, when did it pass me? and where do i pick up the chase? or maybe it's something that lands in your lap when you're looking for something completely different; something without a name. i wish i could stop wondering.

Well, here it is a few minutes before bed time on Father's Day and my thoughts are winding down. I thought maybe I should jot some of them down for posterity.

My kids are not here today, they are in Maui with their mom and step-dad and grandparents. And while I certainly miss them, I have nonetheless had a good Father's Day.

Some friends of mine that I hadn't talked to in quite a while talked to me after church this morning and when they found out my kids were gone were kind enough to invite me to their house to join them in their Father's Day get-together. They have three kids of their own as well as an aging father/father-in-law so it was nice of them to include me in their plans. I was honored to have been asked and felt right at home in the mix. Not only that, but the sun actually came out so we got to sit outside and soak it in. Both the company and the sunshine.

After I got home I took the obligatory Sunday afternoon nap. I may have even drooled on the couch pillow...a little. When I woke up I decided to go visit MY dad. Well, at least the place where he's buried. It's just down the street about a quarter of a mile and yet I haven't been there in years. It's close but it seems so very far away.

I've never been a big fan of visiting gravesites. I know there's nobody there, but today it was just nice to see my dad's name written somewhere permanent. I dusted off the grass clippings that covered his name and said a few things...mostly to myself. I loved that man and missed him today. I can't wait to see him again.

My day was topped off just minutes ago when my cell phone rang and there on the screen was a picture of my youngest boy. They each took a turn to wish me a happy Father's Day and tell me a little bit about their day. I was glad to hear the smiles in their voices and to know they were having a great time. It made me glad to have someone to miss.

It was truly a happy day for this father :)

Fly Like An Eagle

I'm lucky enough to live in a place where bald eagles are not an uncommon sight. I see them a lot on my route because, well because that's where they live I suppose. That, and the fact that there are acre upon acre of grassland there. You see, eagles like to eat such things as mice and rabbits so they prey upon places heavily populated by the fuzzy, furry little things...in fields of grass.

Now, every year about this time the farmers cut the grass to make hay or silage to feed their cows, and the eagles are out en mass. Today, I was fortunate enough to 'chase' an eagle down the road for about a hundred yards next to one such hay field. I always thought that eagles were one of the most majestic birds I had ever seen. They just seem to glide along so effortlessly. Well, today was the first time I had ever followed an eagle so closely, I guess you could say I had a man's eye view (don't ask me why it decided to fly right in front of me straight down the road), and as I watched it carefully I noticed that even when flying perfectly straight it's tail feathers are in constant 'adjust' mode, tipping ever so slightly left and then right and then more left and less right and....well, you get the picture. All this to say: just because it LOOKS easy flying straight, doesn't mean it is.

Do you suppose there's a lesson in that somewhere? Hmmmm.....