The Storm Came Close

Well I had a very restful night last night. I love to snuggle down under the covers when a storm blows through. The thunder and lighting were terrific. My bedroom is on the second floor and the roof is just above us and this makes for some very nice sounds. Sleep like a baby! I woke and went about my daily routine, jet dressed, make a couple mugs of coffee for me and Dan, feed the cats, pack up my computer, and wait for Dan to pick me up. I strolled out to the truck thinking what a beautiful day we were in store for. I was really surprised when the first thing Dan said to me was, do you think our walls are still standing. I had no idea what he was talking about. Did you not know there was some tornadoes that went through the area last night, he said. Nope! Yea, he said, one hit Buffalo and one went from Kimberling City to Branson, right over our job. Wow! our morning was starting off a little bit different then I expected. As we were traveling toward our job we received a call from the builder and he told us trees were down and the road to the job was probably closed. Me and Dan went into a steady conversation of all the things that might have happened to our job. Are the walls still standing, is there debris everywhere, has a big tree fallen on the floor, has the whole neighborhood been demolished, a million questions, but no answers. Well, our trip to Gobblers Mountain went in a giffy and at first we thought, oh my goodness there is no way the walls are standing. Trees were down everywhere and there was a lot of home damage. We eased our way through the rubble and made it safely to the job site. Low and behold we escaped unscathed. How can a storm destroy property just a few hundred feet away and not even a small branch on the sub-floor. Safe From the Storm!

Molly

She sits on top of my file cabinet totally thinking she is in complete control of me. I try my hardest to go about my business without showing any fear of her. That is really hard to do when she looks at me that way. She has a friend sitting in her lap who seems nice, at least in my mind. I am not real sure how she managed to climb onto that high file cabinet. For that matter how long has she been there. I got to be honest here she is making me very nervous. I should tell her my feelings and ask her to please stare at somewhere else in this big room. I want to do that, but being a rocket scientist, I realize this would tick her off. If she would take a break and gaze at the ceiling for a short while maybe her friend would take the message from me and tell her later (in a minute or so) when I start back to work. Come on, brother, cut me some slack here, look over there please! If I go about my important things to do surely she will get bored and start clipping her toenails won't she. She must know they need clipped, I do. How can she do that? Sitting there just scaring me for no reason, with no regards for my teetering emotional state of mind. How did she get on top of the file cabinet? Why is her friend in her lap? What is the bond between the two of them? Oh! I wonder if she (not her friend) is having a big time messing with my head. How in the world did they get on top of that high file cabinet? They may have crawled up when my head was turned.

Of bits and pieces my world is made

Life is a very complex thing. Like a well crafted quilt, with bits and pieces of fabric stitched together into one large tapestry. Each piece of the fabric was very important in its day. Nothing seemed more important than that particular kind of material on that particular day. Funny thing is the very next day you ask yourself, What was so special about that cloth from yesterday? No bother its a new day and corduroy feels good now. Tomorrow may be denim and the next day flannel but corduroy today.  Many years go by and the pile of different fabrics fill a whole closet. There is so many different pieces that you begin to wonder if they could possible be all yours. There is red, blue, green, plaid, stripes, patterned, soft, itchy, thick, thin, pretty, gross, just every texture and color combination possible. As you look at each different small insignificant pieces of fabric a story comes to mind. These stories are some sad, some funny, some happy and a couple have no story at all. With all of this hodgepodge of fabric you decide to build a quilt, no rhyme,  no reason to it, just a blanket of fabric pieces. With a spool of thread and a thimble you splice together the memories and tales of days bygone until you fashion a complete quilt, complex and complicated yet simple and simple. Such is life!

A Storms a Brewing

There is a certain smell in the air, you know the smell. The Earth has been sitting around dormant waiting for the wind to take its dust into the atmosphere. The smell of that dust is a tell tale of a bad storm closing in. I have noticed that other types of storms have precursors to the main event too! There is a perfect storm on the horizon, one that will blow us all away. You can't smell this storm but your gut churns and your head gets fuzzy/dizzy knowing there is no escape. You can't outrun it, you can't hide in a basement, you can't stick you head in the sand, can't even pretend its not coming because it is. No way your gut can be wrong on this one, it hurts to bad. Our desires and wants have created a high pressure aloft and the winds of low pressure encircle us. These winds are held back by a facade of government intervention designed to fake the wind out. You can't fake out wind, it does not respond to wishes of hopeful thinking. The best thing to do is brace yourself and say your prayers, lots of prayers. Don't even try to act smarter then your pants on this one, just plain hunker down. It amuses me, all the people looking right at this thing and acting like its going to blow off to the north. Kind of reminds me of folks watching a tsunami coming in. Man isn't that something, honey get me the camera, hey kids you might want to build a dike for that sandcastle. 

Fast Tracker

Tony is a very busy man. He goes from to to fro in just a couple of seconds. In our business we call a man like that a fast tracker. The rest of us sit around contemplating things and Tony just gets it done, or does he? I overheard him tell his boss that he could get it done no problem. Get what done? I did not hear that part but I did hear his boss say GREAT! When you put "no problem" and "GREAT" together my guess is that if not both than a least one of these men must be a fast tracker. I have heard Tony say "no problem" many times before and he says it really fast, at a minimum he is a fast tracker. But what is it he is getting done? He never ever works; he just bangs around on his phone thingamajig. I am perplexed. The next day Tony was toying with his thingamajig and also talking to a subordinate at the same time. WOW! What talent. They were a little distance from me so their voices were hard to hear. I was unable to see this subordinates face but somehow I could read his lips clearly, "no problem". Then Tony said, I was reading lips here too, "GREAT!" What is it that will give Mr. Subordinate no problem? Is it the same thing that would give Tony no problem? Both Tony and Mr. Subordinate spend the next 10 minutes playing with their thingamajigs. Mr. Subordinate then gets up and heads for the exit door. When he gets a little closer I recognize the face. Tom, I yelled in his direction, what’s up? He was a busy man but came over anyway. "What are you doing here" was the first words out of his mouth. "Get back to work". Oh yea, that's right I was suppose to have all my work done by this morning and I did tell Tom "NO PROBLEM".  Does this mean we all have a problem?

Just call me John

I always go unnoticed for the most part. That's the way I like it because by nature I'm an introvert. I do my job and keep my mouth shut. In reality I have little control over whether my mouth is shut or not. It’s when people don't hold up their end of the bargain. That is the cause for my mouth not being shut when it needs to. Sometimes the things I listen to, it would make a grown man want to puke. I listen to them bellyache and moan. How do I keep my mouth shut? I'm telling you, it’s because of the people themselves; I have no control over the matter.  I do think I am very special in some ways, I don't pass judgments, why should I? My job is not to be a judge or jury. I know the pain is there, but I don't know what caused it, how could I. I just mind my own business and listen to them. I do get a little hacked off every now and then, people dumping on me is the cause. Sometimes I feel abused and unappreciated. I take their crap time and time again and they never ever thank me for being there, listening to their really stinky problems. Is that the way you should treat your most trusted friend. How about a little gratitude, how about you show me how much you appreciate what I do, how about you taking the time to shut my mouth so that the ladies don't get mad at me. Ah, forget about all of that, how about it you just flush me. Note:(I decided to take today off from writing and pass on a story my toilet told me.)

Empty Basket

I have been married for over 33 years now and one thing seems to be a constant. The laundry basket is never empty. When Brenda and I were first married we did not have a lot of clothes but we did not have a washer and dryer either so the laundry basket always had something in it. The basket sat below our TV and just as sure as Johnny Carson was going to be on TV our basket was going to have clothes in it. After 4 years of marriage we had our first child and decided that cloth diapers was the way to go. Now we had a laundry basket and a diaper pail that were never empty. We did get a washer and dryer, that helped but the problem existed just the same. Within 4 years we had two more children and our problem grew exponentially. Our three children became teenagers and we gave up on the laundry basket completely, or I should our children did, their bedroom floor became one large laundry basket. Our washer and dryer was begging for a vacation but we could in no way indulge them. After high school our boys all went off to college and we did catch a slight break. What happens when your kids go to college, so do their clothes. The clothes basket took back its rightful position from the kids bedroom floor. If you have ever had kids in college then you will know what happens to the clothes basket during the college years. It is used as a sled when the first snow hits campus and the floor once again reigns supreme as a dirty clothes receptacle. I'm still not sure but I believe this is a status symbol of just how busy you are with your studies, or at least that's what they want parents to perceive. Back home the laundry basket looks real similar to 20 some odd years before. Just the two of us again, no Johnny Carson, but still clothes in the basket. I just brought up a big basket of clean clothes, mostly Brenda's, I hope that basket is never empty :)

Patient Itinerary

Yea, like its some big freaking fun conference so complex that directions are needed . They can take their fancy smancy itinerary and stick it where the sun isn't. Let me give you SP (Sam Pyle) Oxfords definition of pa-tient [pey-shuhnt] noun  1. A guinea pig that suffers and is under medical care and Itin-er-ary [ahy-tin-uh-rer-ee] noun 1. A detailed plan for a journey, a list of places for the guinea pig to visit. You have to excuse my sarcasm! but they sugar coat everything so that swallowing won't be so hard. If you change one word everything is completely  different. Input Bahama for patient and see if that don't fix things. Yep! Warm ocean breezes, soft white sand, green/blue ocean water, muffled sounds from waves crashing the beach, a hammock gently tossing back and forth, no watch, for that matter, no calender, just pure contentment. Wow! Long walks along the beach darting in and out with the waves looking for a perfect spiral shell. You meander back for dinner, where swordfish is the catch of the day. After a full day its time to get cozy under a down comforter. The hut has a thatched roof, perfect for the rain coming in from the ocean. The sun warmed air has turned cool, the ocean wind forces you to pull the covers up a little.

Can you do that in your sleep?

About 6 months ago I had a strange dream. A dream so scary it required me to post Psalm 91 on a wood beam next to the corner of our fireplace.I have heard it said that dreams don't come in color. I think I do dream in color but that's not what I want to tell you. I don't remember a lot but I remember the important part. Its what I did outside the dream that was weird. Our bedroom is upstairs and we have a large brick fireplace between us and the stairs that go downstairs. The corner of this large masonry structure was dilapidated  in my dream. There was family, my wife, a couple of the kids and a few others, I don't remember exactly who, but others. I lay on the ground frozen, my arms were paralyzed from fear. The growl was something to behold, there was no way I wanted to see what was around the edge of the brick. As dreams would have it, you can't control that.  If I ever needed to move it was now, move, move, please. Slowly a wolf came around that corner and eyed me. No ordinary wolf, a wolf full of demons meaning me harm. Great, a demon wolf and I can't pick my nose, hands won't move. Oh boy! My body was so weak, so weak that I knew it was a dream in my dream. With all of the strength a dreaming person can muster in a dream I reached for a small stone. I threw that stone. I awoke, I awoke myself with an arm jerkin throwing motion. I was sitting up in bed staring at the corner of our fireplace. Can you do that in your sleep?

Relations with Space

Have you ever wondered what fills the space around you? Is the stuff in that space in its proper place? How about the space not around you but kind of around you, I mean only in your mind, is that space proper? I have been drawing on a house we are building on Table rock Lake. I draw my plans in 2D but the house needs to be built in 3D. Everything in between the 2D drawing and  a 3D house needs to happen in the proper place in my mind. After all we can't afford to shingle the sub-floor or carpet the roof can we? The way we utilize this space of our mind can be mind boggling if we allow the compartments that should be filled with components of building materials to become ensnared by emotions and ideas. Let’s leave that to the architects, they are trained to cry if the cheap popular wood won't take walnut stain. I have enough problems keeping my own personal problems out of my 3D space. Carpenters like Dan and I need to get trusses, structural steel, and 2x lumber in the right compartment. This is not art; this is relations with space, spacial relations for the layman. When all of this space is correct as it should be then the foundation flows upward to floors that carry many walls. On these walls, all plumb and parallel are rafters stretching towards the border of this space, a 2x8 ridge, I repeat the border of this space. A person who has a better relation with space could add a second floor.

Potatoes and Hash

Does your dinner sum up your day? Tonight we are having potatoes and corned beef hash for dinner and I am here thinking stupid things. Could I possible figure out a way to describe my day and how it resembles what  my wife is making for dinner. I will give it a try. I think I am getting writers block and why shouldn't I, this has to be the most dimwitted idea since something. I wonder if I can fill this days blog with a bunch of crap that don't mean nothing to nobody. If I was to run real fast down a hill it would be possible to fall and knock a shoulder out of its socket. Running fast down a hill is pretty dumb isn't it. I have no idea what the price of turkeys in China has to do with iron ore production in Australia, do you? How bout this.  If you have an answer to that last question, you are just plain nuts! I suppose to be fair you might also be a commodity broker. I got to tell you that hash is smelling pretty good. Potatoes and hash? I wonder if a meal like that would have a vegetable too? I mean you already have a veggie of  sorts in the spuds. I got it, brussel sprouts, yum! My spell check is telling me I just spelled brussel wrong. There it goes again, do the spouts come from Brussels. They must because spell check worked that time. Well I think I have come to the end of what will go down in history as the best piece of writing since my last post. Whats that? Dinners ready! Thank goodness. My brain is hash!

The clown made my coffee this morning

Dan and I have been working close to Kimberling City lately. I have been putting coffee in my automatic coffee maker the night before so that it will start brewing before the alarm goes off. This works really good unless you don't put it on the night before. Last night was just such a night. Brenda has been helping me lately and both of us just didn't want to deal with it. Instead we jumped into bed and watched The Rope. Alfred Hitchcock really had a warped mind sort off. We looked for him early in the movie but I guess we missed his usual cameo appearance. I snoozed off a few times but managed to catch most of the movie. I found myself thinking of different twisted things to add. The guy that keep getting nervous was my target. In the end there was no way I could improve Hitchcock. That man was really clever. Almost as clever as the clown who made our coffee. He gets it wrong 53.6% of the time and we give his organization $2.79 every morning. Well not every morning lately. We are getting pretty frustrated with the clown. His stooges do the same thing day after day, ask us what we want, two large coffees with three creams and three sugars. What is so hard to understand. By the way brew a whole pot of Joe before pouring, such a novel idea. That way Mr. Dan's won't taste like dish water and mine like burnt dish rags. Why do we keep trading with the clown? Hope! That it will be right and I day will start out sunshiny!

Home Alone

Well I'm home alone. Brenda works tonight and I rule the roost. Got the Wind playing in the background and just kind of throwing a few ideas around. Guess I should drag my lazy bones two floors below and cram the washer in order to get my chores done in one circuit. I have some Wind in the basement too, it keeps, I shouldn't talk about that, it's kind of creepy. Besides, who would believe me! If I get some Wind in my soul then my nerves could endure that trip below. Did I forgot to put Wind on the main level, where the living room and kitchen are, great, now I have that gauntlet to deal with. I need some portable wind,  I could go anywhere, laughing . The gunk in the air would fear me instead of vice versa. Imagine wearing four dimensional glasses, yikes, five dimensional glasses, ugh! Went to Wallymart yesterday and got some cheep 1.25 reading glasses, glad for them right now. The Wind is sounding more like music, I should make a break for it while its like that. Don't get a lot of breaks and I need to take advantage of each and every one. Here goes, be back in a minute. Back! Well that wasn't terrible, a little cold if you know what I mean. With the exception of the glass door (the door with black behind it, no Wind)  my trip was uneventful. Got some Wind in the living room on my way back up here. That was genius if I must say.

World Religion is Censored

I have a world religion class this semester and my voice has been silenced. In Biology 100 we were told that we could not talk about creation because our class taught evolution. My thoughts on the subject did not matter, my voice was silenced. In Physics 100 we were told that we could not talk about the creation of our universe because our class teaches the Big Bang theory. It did not matter what I thought, my voice was silenced. Now in World Religion 110 I have recently found out that I can't talk about the Antichrist. What? Why not? Can I have a belief on anything? Are my beliefs censored by the state? I am beginning to understand why our college kids seem like zombies. They are! There are so many interesting thoughts out there in kid’s brains. The problem is they are not sure if they should be thinking them. What does my professor want me to say, I'm not sure, the tug is definitely in one direction. I don't want to, you know, brown nose them but crap I can cover that up. Don't stir waves and get the stupid A. Is that a conundrum? It seems so progressive they can't be wrong, can they? I mean it's all so stinking enlightened! Oh my, if I could only reach that level of knowledge. Wait a minute, that wouldn't work. I would be given over to my depraved mind and then I would do things I shouldn't.

God, family, me!

God, family, me!

If you keep your life in this order it will be fulfilling and you won't lack a sense of purpose. We live in a world that believes if numeral uno is not taken care of then you will be of no use to anyone. What a terrible misconception. Life has x number of minutes in it and if you are glutenous with those precious tidbits of time you will be full of self. As a family we have vacationed in many places. There is one thing in common with each trip we went on, our house was in order before we left. It's hard to enjoy yourself  when you leave things a mess. It takes a little time to clean the dishes and mow the yard but this is what makes the vacation enjoyable and the trip home easier to swallow. Life is the same way, its hard to enjoy if you don't do your chores (keep and maintain a core set of beliefs, spend quality time with your family) before you indulge in personal satisfaction. A person should use their minutes wisely!

Ant on a Mission

Have you ever noticed how humans act like ants?They run every where and act like they are on a mission from God. They pass by each other and at most will smile and nod. There is no time to talk because the mission is to important. What about the mission causes so much concern? I look from my window perch at this ant march with many questions in my mind. I wish I had some mental telepathy, with this I could understand the mission better. I have noticed a man, a brilliant man among the march. He should be a king ant not part of the chain, shouldn't he? There may be no kings in this chain, just strong links. He looks very concerned and is marching at a speedier pace. He seems to be carrying a very heavy load, not the weighty kind, the kind that will crush your mind and soul. I have never seen anyone get into Panera and come out with a coffee so fast. His pace has quickened and his mission looks to be twice as important now. It could be that my observations are not quite right here, it might just be the caffeine. No! its not the caffeine and you can tell by how deliberate his legs are. They have a place they need to get to and the rest of this mans body is not putting up a fight. This ant has inherited some problems, and they need fixed. God is barking mission orders and his coffee has become second priority. It amazes me how some ants can carry such a load!

Ahead of the Storm

     I am sitting inside Siteman treatment center writing this blog post. Brenda and I decided to drive up to St. Louis last night to stay in front of the storm. I am sure glad we did because it sounds like the roads got a little treacherous early this morning. Brenda is a floor above me getting treatment while I put my brain in the computer. I have a special out of the way place overlooking the busy intersection of Euclid and Forrest Park Blvd. I write a little and then watch the business of people moving to and fro below me. I can enjoy solitude in the middle of humanity. I have spent  a lot of time here over the last 5 years. Across the street a building has been demolished and a new 13 story outpatient surgery center has risen in its place. I have really enjoyed watching it grow from the sub-grade to the copter pads. Over the last five years I have started to think of this place as a prison. You would be hard pressed to find one out of a hundred who want to be here. Disease, pain, suffering is every direction. Hope is spoken of in wishful ways. The prison bars are the circumstances of life. Your cell is your own body, no way to escape. The guards, oh the guards, bureaucratic nightmares, you don't need them but they are there just the same.

Brenda was hoping for some snow so that she could watch from her 4th. floor cell. It is snowing and I'll bet she is loving it!

My Audience

I have taken many online classes now at OTC and I am always amazed at how much you can learn from people by reading their short posts. The reason I asked the question what happens to you when you die is because generally speaking people will react to a question like this from the gut. There is no go way to skate around a question like that so what they believe just spills out. I was not real surprised by the answers because in all of my different classes to date I have noticed that OTC is full of closet believers in heaven. When your audience is somewhat spiritual you kind of need to adjust the way you write.  I tend to have a very crude sense of humor and look at life from an odd perspective. I can tell my audience is not the type that sits around the campfire talking about what happens if you eat to many beans for dinner. I need to compensate for this. One thing that did strike me a little odd was that this particular class seems to be very grounded and mature. I can truly say that I don’t think there was one silly question or answer in the whole discussion. This will enable me to really get down to heartfelt writing. This is good because it will challenge me as a writer.

The one question that kind of startled me was by Falguni Patel. I have never thought about erasing something in my life. This question really touched some nerve endings and had some odd answers. I got the feeling that some of my classmates live with some personal pain. Writing answers to the different questions was enjoyable. I really tried hard not to sit and think about the perfect answer (one that fits the norm) but just answer what came to my mind. I think this will give my classmates a better idea who I am. I don’t want them to read the label.  I want them to see what’s inside the can.

Sunshine

What a day! Blue sky, sunny and cold as all get out. I remember once about 28 years ago a day similar only a lot colder. That day was -5 degrees at noon and perfectly sunny, not a cloud to be seen in any direction. I was framing a home with a co-worker. In order to get a nail out of our nail pouch you just stuck your moist jersey glove covered finger in and the nail would stick to it, just like a magnet. Dan who usually worked with me was in Tuscan Arizona visiting my sister Rose and getting a tan. There is something different about these days, its like the north pole is invading and Missouri is hiding from the on-slot. My cats also know that something is different. Instead of meeting me at the door this morning waiting for their special kitty they stayed cuddled who knows where in the shed. The robins are also gone but a few cardinals can be seen jumping from one cedar to another. This would be a perfect night for a ragging fire in our fireplace. Stick a couple pieces of chicken in the seal missing pressure cooker to slowly cook. We'll add some celery, onions, carrots and of coarse noodles. Poof, instant comfort food perfect for a cold evening indoors. Just for good measure we will chuck a few biscuits in the oven. Shoot, why not put a funny movie in the DVD and pull the sofa out. Full tummy, crackling fire, snugly sleeping conditions and not a worry in the world. Yep!   

Own World

Do you ever think that you are in a world totally different than those around you. I sometimes think that because of circumstances my world is apart from just about everybody. I think of things I would like to talk about and really have no one to talk to. The things I am thinking are of no use to anyone except me. The problem is that my world is getting more and more complex and I struggle with keeping it afloat. The more complex my world gets the less I have to talk to others about. Sometimes it feel like I am floating away in a bubble that no one else wants to be in. I can't really blame them, its not a fun place to be. It’s like a secret life but its not. Its my life and I'm around all kinds of people living this life in secret. It’s only secret because what I have to say are things they don't want to hear. The funny thing is it's a sunshiny day outside and inside is full of problems and papers. The papers just keep growing like weeds in a hoed garden. Sometimes I think if I could get rid of all these problems and papers I would be part of the crowd again. Its like I'm plugging the holes in the levee with my fingers. You might want to chat but if you do the levee with break. I think I am taking care of the breaks but my efforts are only rewarded with the river growing higher, which means more holes and even less time to chat. Should I abandon my post. No, to much depends on those holes being plugged. If you should ever find yourself walking on the safe side of the levee and spot me, stop and say hi!