Blog Challenge

As you may or may not know, this blog entry was prompted by a challenge to a fellow blogger by her 'friend' (not sure if that makes it a second cousin twice removed or a long distance dedication - I always get those mixed up). So, the challenge is to write on one of two subjects:

1. Why do I blog or,
2. Top 10 reasons to read my blog.

Lets go with challenge #1.

As was mentioned by my friend with the 'laugh' blog, both subjects are a bit egotistical and self serving but are simple enough to get the writing flowing and let everyone (no matter the bend of their blog) join in. Well, here goes.

I blog so that the I can sort through the thoughts and feeling that tend to rattle around in my head. Life is chaotic at times and requires frequent introspection lest we lose ourselves amid the constant churning. The blog is my time to slow it down, take a breath and try to pick up the pieces. For that reason, I do not blog every day - heck you would be lucky to see me blog a couple times a month. Not to say that I do not have enough chaos in my day to day to write about, I just choose to wait until it reaches critical mass before attacking it. My blog is for me alone, but if there are others who find it interesting and wish to read it, all the better. I am glad that there are a select few who choose to follow my blog and that there are a handful more that check it out when I link to FB (you know who you are). As one of my prior posts noted, it also serves as a form of journal or sketchbook. In this fashion, it preserves my discussions on things and allows me to go back from time to time and revisit what I was thinking and feeling (as opposed to those who believe their journal will be considered literature upon their passing - I harbor no such delusions). In the end, it will all just rattle around in cyberspace until someone deletes it because it is old and no one reads it. Till then, my blog helps me to keep everything between the lines.

In my world, that is reason enough to do it.

Picking Things Up.

The following blog is an excerpt from an the last entry I made in my journal/sketchbook over a year ago. The realization hit me like a load of bricks when I noticed it sitting on top of my dresser and realized that what I used to do on paper with pen is now online. Time will tell which one is the wise choice, but at this moment they will cross.

How much of our lives is spent picking things up? Pick up what you dropped, pick up a book you have forgotten, pick up my children's' toys, and even picking up this journal for the first time in too long. We pick up pearls of knowledge, pick up new phrases, pick up new jobs & customers, pick up our kids and pick up our friends when they are down. We pick up the phone more and more each day while our face-to-face interaction slows. Pick up pennies on the street even though they are not worth much. Pick up a cold when someone is thoughtful enough to bring it to work. Pick up games, pick up trash, pick up sticks, and on and on. To pick up is to grasp, hold, feel, understand and care. It is the curiosity that makes us human and the spirituality that gives us humanity.

May we live long enough to pick up many things.

Friends and Shades of Gray

This past weekend I experienced something new. I was de-friended by someone on facebook.

Let me start by clarifying how I define 'friends' on facebook: If I have accepted your friend request (you asked me)on facebook, there is a 70% chance that I do not actually consider you a friend. Since there is only one category I cannot split hairs - there is only black and white. Most of the non-friend 'friends' are individuals who would be better categorized as acquaintances. They are good people who I have no problem sharing any posts, pictures and contact info I chose to put on facebook. If I requested you as a friend, there is a 100% chance that I consider you a friend - I do not believe in friending people just so you can have more fiends. My hope in writing this is not to cause any paranoia among my facebook friends or to come off as condescending or arrogant. I am CERTAIN that there are individual that I have friended who hit the 'Accept' button simply because it was easier in their minds to go with the flow rather than worry about what that person would think of them if they ignored it. This is how facebook works and why it keeps people interested and engaged - the net controls you sometimes rather than the other way round (that is a whole other blog).

So, getting back to my de-friending. Since this is the first time it has happened so far (there may be more if anyone reads this blog), I was not certain how it would go. First off, there were no bells and whistles, no alert via email, no flashing box when you log in. The only way I knew was that I looked at this individuals post on Friday afternoon and when I went to check it out again on Saturday he was not in my friends list. Now, I know what you are asking - which category of 'friend' was he to begin with. He was in the acquaintance category, subcategory of former work colleague. His last post mentioned that he was having a change at his current work and since we work in the same field (as small one at that), I suspect that he chose this as a moment to cut ties so I could/would not comment on this change or pass on what was happening to others in the industry (this brings me to a whole other potential blog entry - where to draw the line on postings if you have co-workers as facebook friends). Reality is that while I found his post of interest, I had no plans to comment on his situation other than a potential 'chin up' type comment. Since we had not commented or communicated on facebook in a few months, I thought that even this might be viewed as opportunistic, hence why I did not comment upon first reading his update.

OK, so what is the take home message here? For me, the take home message is that everyone wants to be accepted and feel important (I hope we can all agree on that), and when you are 'defriended' your first feeling will most likely be a twinge of hurt. Reality is, if he felt that strongly about closing off that access to his life then he has me categorized lower on his own scale than I have him on mine. I am OK with this. I do wish him the best and hope that it all works out.

This has made me consider evaluating my facebook friends list and deciding if I should trim it a bit. If I did, should I message the defriendees (did I just make up a word?) prior to the defriending? If I was planning to defriend you, would you like to know or would you rather find out by happenstance? Would you try to talk me out of it or would you quietly accept my choice? Of course it all depends on what shade of gray I am in your corner of the black and white facebook universe.

Goin Mobile

Moving into uncharted (for me) territory - blogging from a mobile device. My DW recently upgraded to a Droid phone (I call it R2D2) and it can do alnost anything that a computer can do. Seems this should seem like a normal progression, but as I am logging in I was thinking how odd it will be to compose a blog via phone rather than sitting at the keyboard. For me, it is a change in thought process. Some day soon there may not be a distinction between mobile and not as we will all be carrying our computers on our belts. The question is, will this liberate us or will it further bog us down since we will always be connected.

Myself, I am cautiously optimistic and guardedly worried all at once. Hopefully R2 will be an ally and not an anchor.

Thicker than Thieves

Last night my darling wife went out and left our two sons in my care for the evening. We went for a walk, then back home for the nightly ritual of bath, brush and bedtime stories. As the three of us sat and read I was prepared to have both boys lie down in the big bed with me until they were asleep. Backstory is that while our 6YO will go to sleep all on his own, the 3YO still needs to have someone lay with him until he is asleep. Well, it came time to turn off the lights and lie down when my 6YO says that he will lay down with the 3YO in his bed to help him get to sleep. I was skeptical that this would work, but figured why not give it a go. Well, lo and behold it did work. I was amazed not only at the compassion and understanding exibited by 6YO, but also the fact that the 3YO has such a close bond with his brother that he makes him feel as safe as if he is with Mom or Dad. I have said it before in the blog, and I may repeat myself but there are few things that give me greater joy than to see my sons developing a lifelong friendship. It gives me a warm feeling deep in my soul that no matter what happens to them in life they will have each other a friends as well a brothers. That is but one of my hopes for them - that they become thicker than thieves.

10 Things that make me happy.

OK, first off, I have to say that I did not realize that it has been almost two and half months since my last post. Of course I have a good reason - it is spring, and I am a landscaper. Not out of the woods yet, so no promises that I am back to regular duty here.

Anyway, on the the subject at hand which was actually handed to me by a dear friend that I do not see enough of. Ten things that make me happy:

1. Hugs from my sons. Nothing in this world is more sincere and honest as the love expressed by a child with a tight hug around the neck.

2. Rita's cherry water ice. No further explanation needed in my book.

(note - this list is in no particular order and is not ranked in any way. I have had a long week and will. by nature, jump around a bit).

3. Sitting on the couch snuggling with my wife and watching a good movie. Heck, it can be a bad movie and she can fall asleep half way through and it still makes this list.

4. Seeing a job well done. One of the greatest parts of being a landscaper is being able to step back at the end of the day and admire the work that has been done.

5. Coffee. Legal stimulant. Nuff said.

6. Watching the sunrise on a cool misty morning like the ones we have been having lately in SE PA.

7. The sound of my sons laughing and playing together. I do not have a brother, and my sister and I were far enough apart in age that we did not have that type of close relationship when we were young. The thought of my boys being 'thicker than thieves' is a comforting thought to me. God help the rest of you though.

8. Walking to the local farmers market on a lazy Saturday morning.

9. Spending time in the friendly, yet vocal confines of Beaver Stadium watching the Penn State Nittany Lions steamroll their opponent. Nothing like the sound of 110,000 plus cheering in unison and feeling the earth shake from their footfalls.

10. Knowing that although I may disappear at work for weeks at a time (see note above), I have family and friends who will welcome me back when Spring ends and not yawn when I bore them with the details of my life at work.

Alright, there is my ten.

Now I am supposed to tag 10 people and ask them to blog about 10 things that make them happy. Problem is that I do not know how to tag people in a blog, and I would not know 10 to tag if I did (sorry). Even so, making this list did make me happy (that would be #11).

Missing Pieces

I decided to plagiarize this topic from a good friend.

I am missing pieces from the days following the passing of my Grandmother. We were expecting son #1 in less than a week when we got the phone call that she was gone. When you are that close to delivery, you should not go 3 hours away from your doctor and there was no way that I was going to leave my very pregnant wife at home alone. So we stayed put and grieved, but it was not the same. When you are around family and fiends, when you can see their faces, when you can give that hug and cry on a shoulder, when you can receive the condolences of others and when you can physically lift the casket and help walk it to the grave your grief changes. Those who know me know that I do not dwell on the negative and I am not writing about this to try to fill a deep void in my life. I am merely identifying some missing pieces to my life that I will never have the opportunity to find. The space they would have occupied was filled with quiet reflection, some tears on my pillow, and eventually (7 days past the due date) the most joyous day that I had known to that point (still second to none, but now in a tie with the day son #2 was born). Even so, the pieces are still missing and there is no going back to find them. Perhaps some day I will come to understand this time in a different way. Perhaps not. Either way, it does not change my love for my Grandmother and my love for my wife and children. Those pieces are the ones that matter most and they are carved into the very fabric of my being.

Prepare, adjust and work through it.

Well, looks like mother nature wants to dance yet again this winter. I wrote about her first turn on the floor in December - that was just a warm up. January was mostly quite - she was merely catching her breath. Now February has brought not one, but two 'storms of the century'. Guess we will be good to go for a couple hundred years after this one (weak grin). Got through that two week tango with barely the energy to unlace my boots. Spent the last ten days regrouping, recovering and repairing. Now, she steps on the floor to cut yet another rug. Not sure what to make of all this. With the weather, all we can do is prepare, adjust and work through it. A wiser man than I once said that there is no way to reason with Hurricane season. I am guessing that he lived in the warmer latitudes, but the same principal applies at approximately 40 degrees North with blizzard conditions. So, we take to the floor and dance again - prepare, adjust, work through, regroup, recover and repair. Takes all that I can muster to think about dancing with her again. Only comfort is the fact that I just have to follow, because in this dance, the lady leads.

Goodbye J.D. Salinger

The Catcher in the Rye - Chapter 22

"You know that song 'If a body catch a body comin' through the
rye'? I'd like-"
"It's 'If a body meet a body coming through the rye'!" old Phoebe
said. "It's a poem by Robert Burns."
"I know it's a poem by Robert Burns."
She was right though. It is 'If a body meet a body coming through the rye.'
I didn't know it then though. "I thought it was 'If a body catch a body' I
said."
"Anyway, I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all. Thousands of little kids, and nobody's around - nobody big, I mean - except me. and I'm standing on the edge of some crazy cliff. What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff - I mean if they're running and they don't look where they're going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That's all I'd do all day, I'd be the catcher in the rye and all. I know it's crazy, but that's the only thing I'd really like to be. I know it's crazy"


Probably the most dog-eared book I have. The copy is worn and faded like a favorite wallet. This book was the first piece of real literature that I loved. I connected with it. Something about it clicked, and my world was not the same after. When I heard of Salinger's passing earlier this week, my first reaction was 'I did not know he was still alive'. Then a sigh ran through me and gave me a chill - like I had just heard of the passing of a old friend that you lost touch with. The kind of reaction that makes you want to pull out the old photo albums and look at old pictures. Except this time it is not an album. It is a dog-eared paperback with their name on the cover. Goodbye J.D. Salinger. Thank you for being my catcher in the rye.

Reunion chapter 1

Twenty years. TWENTY YEARS! 20 years? Has it really been that long? Well, it actually has. Later this year, my high school class will celebrate our 20 year reunion. It is sinking in slowly and somewhat painfully. Where do I begin? Well first off, I have never been one to care about my age so I am not dwelling on the fact that I am 20 years removed from HS. I also do not have any trepidation about how my former classmates will judge how I look, the car I drive, where I work or any of the other specifics of my life right now. I like my life, I like who I have become and except for some poundage I am happy with the way that I look. So then what is the big deal right? Well, I think it comes down to the fuzzy past. You know what I am talking about, how the memory of how it was 20 years ago is so much better than it actually was. There is so much I have forgotten and so much that I am most likely mis-remembering. I do know that my perspective on things from that time is very different no matter how I remember it. We lamented that we were stuck in a dead end town, that life was passing us by, and that if these were the best years of our lives then we were not all that jazzed about the future. Of course what you can tell an 18 year old and what they will believe are totally different things. While I would not trade all of HS for the two greatest moments of my life (births of my two sons), HS was not nearly as horrible as we thought. The world was simpler either in fact or in perception due to our narrow worldview, and we were under no pressure other than what we brought on ourselves. So, getting back to now and the impending event. I am not sure why I have a few butterflies over this. Maybe it is because on some level, I would like to keep remembering the people I lost touch with as they were back then. That the room will not be filled with old friends, old enemies and old acquaintances, but with strangers who happen to have a 20 year old picture in my yearbook (yearbook - that is a whole other blog altogether). Twenty years. More on this to come.