Still feeling the magic 43 years later…

Action photo from work this week.

“Do what you love, and you’ll never have to work a day in your life.”   My father

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Most days I love what I do.      I would be lying if I told you every day is like that…it’s not.  Once in a while I do have a  job that will suck the life out of me, but it’s usually not the work itself but some people related issue.

I can still remember standing in the doorway at my grandma’s house  back in 1976… the day I told her I had chosen not to go to college, but instead work full time for my dad. (He owned a construction company with my uncle Johnny.)

“Oh Douggie ” she said..sadness on her face, sadness in her voice…   I knew she only wanted what was best.  Thing was, already at age 18 I knew I loved construction.  Absolutely loved it.

That was 43 years ago and I still feel the magic.

Most many days I come home physically exhausted, which makes me sleep like a baby.

Hard to put a dollar amount on that.

Well, better call this good enough.

Wife is probably wondering where I am with her morning  cup of coffee.

Take care. DM

 

 

 

 

It is not my responsibility

Talk to ten carpenters and you’ll get 7 different ways to frame a house.

Same goes for bee keepers, I’ve discovered. Talk to ten bee keepers and you’ll probably hear 10 different ways to manage your bees.

Have you found that to be true, my fellow bee keepers? 🙂

My cousin approached me in July and asked if I could help him frame his house the end of October,  which is  where I have been working the past two weeks.  Cousin  asked a friend of his,  ( a finish carpenter)  to head up the crew  so my role was just to be an extra set of hands.

Pause.

On rare occasions, when I have had a new guy on my crew with a construction background, it was draining if the new guy constantly had a “better idea.”

Get’s old fast, so I have made a concerted effort to not be that guy.

I love  framing houses but the past two weeks have left me mentally exhausted.

I have felt like a race horse pulling a skid.

 

We’re getting about half as much  done that we should be and it has had been bothering the heck out of me.

My suspicion is the foreman does not have a lot of  experience managing a 5 man crew.  Compounding that is finish carpenters typically do not make good framers and vice versa…they are used to working at a certain pace.

Yesterday I got to work thinking we were going to button up the bulk of the remaining roof (snow was predicted again last night).   The first 45 minutes when it was just myself,  and a couple of helpers  we kicked butt.  One of the guys looked at me as we finished  the west hip and said, “Now that was fun!”

He knows.

45 minutes later the lead guy showed up, and that was the end of a productive day.  No additional roof went on.   I had to step back and mentally keep  telling myself,

It

is

not

my

responsibility.

 

It is not my responsibility.

 

It is not my responsibility.

 

But it’s hard when you care.

 

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Today was the last day I’ll probably be on that job.

Felt good to be home. 🙂

Anybody relate to any of this?

 

 

 

 

Went to a new writers group last night

Wasn’t sure what to expect.

Got a Facebook message a couple of weeks ago, asking if I would be interested in a  writers group getting started at our library.  Only three other people expressed an interest in coming, so I thought maybe I had the wrong room  when I walked through the door and saw  9 people.

They ranged in age from 18 to late 70’s,  4 men and 7 women.

Description of the group was: ” a low pressure, open group for people with an interest in creative-self expression…provide a supportive forum of like minded people to provide encouragement and helpful feedback…whatever level of proficiency. age or level of interest, you are welcome to come and either share your piece (of writing) or listen to what people are working on….such as narrative therapy, prose, poetry, short story, blogging, family history/ memoirs, journaling, comedy, Obituaries, etc.”

When it came time to share writing samples….all I can say is WOW.  

It touched me deeply.

One girl, I put her at about 18,  had written something on grief. She’d lost her mom when she was 16, and wrote an essay on what not to say to someone who’s dealing with loss.

Another person had written about his recent experience dealing with their autistic daughter having a melt down in public.

It was raw.

I did share a portion of a blog post I’d written back in 2014 on why you don’t want to move to Iowa.  🙂

At the time, Hillary Clinton had come to town  for the Democratic primaries… Our local newpaper editor was on a bus with a bunch of reporters from the east coast.  She heard quite a bit of mocking derision about our community, and  the Midwest in general.  That stirred the following in me:

Why You Don’t Want to come to Iowa 

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I’m already looking forward to the next meeting.

I guess if I came away with anything it was this….

I need to decide if I have any long term writing goals. 🙂

Well, better get moving.  Starting a new duplex this morning and I need to get some breakfast.   Take care. DM

It’s just a glass

Heard this story last night from my brother in law Brian….

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Dave and his wife Marilyn ran a bed and breakfast in our community for several years.  Their house was (and is) on the historical registry.  Built by a general after the Civil war, is a big  square white house with massive white pillars,  wrap around front porch,  2nd floor balcony….   you get the idea  😉

Anyway since they never knew how many guests they might be entertaining on the weekend,  Marilyn had several sets of antique dishes/ matching plates, to go with the theme.

I met Marilyn a couple of times.  Classy lady. We stayed there once while we were gearing up to open our own bed and breakfast.  She was also an artist, had a sense of humor.  Great combination, don’t you think? 🙂    I remember  standing in their kitchen seeing a broken egg on their kitchen floor. It looked so real but she’d painted it there!  Same thing with a set of  keys on the counter top.

Anyway,  I guess Dave was doing dishes one morning and dropped a glass from one of Marilyn’s  fancy set of dishes.

It shattered all over the floor.

He

was

sick.

When Marilyn came down a few minutes later he went on and on about how clumsy he was.

Marilyn told him it was OK!

 “Get over it.  It was just a glass!”

Dave was so distraught he couldn’t let it go, he kept going….

At this point Marilyn picked up another glass and threw  it over her shoulder.

It shattered all over the floor.

She looked at Dave and said it again,

“It’s OK,  it’s just a glass.”

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I love that story.

DM

 

 

 

 

Pompous Experts

I keep a writing journal.

It is not for public consumption.  It is an unedited mix.  Sometime diary, catch all for articles that capture my attention,  blog posts,  personal correspondence, recipe’s, etc.  (It is several hundred thousand words long at this point.)

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I’m currently reading through Louisa May Alcott’s personal journal.  It’s one of the ways I unwind at the end of the day. I usually only read a couple of pages at a time, but for some mysterious reason, her journals have a way of grounding me…

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Anyway, in reading through my writing journal yesterday, this entry caught my eye, and I decided to share a portion of it.

5/11/2013

Pompous writing experts

…I am liking keeping a writing journal.

It taps into a different “voice” than  when I write blog posts.  There is definitely this creative pulse I feel inside that wants to escape.  I would love to hone my writing skills and yet @ the same time am not interested in getting feedback from people like S. H. or especially  M. K. who ripped a rough draft of my first book I shared with him several years ago.  

Those two well meaning “writers” were brutal and deeply wounded my spirit, causing me to second guess anything I would write….

Now I get it…writing well is definitely a craft and like teaching,  there are some fundamental principles a person wants to master to be  effective..  The trick is who is giving the feedback and in what spirit.

       I want to learn how to write  clean, crisp, honest, work.  I really do, and I know I have the humility to learn…I’ve proved it in other areas of my life.  Just give me a teacher filled with Grace – like Brenda Uhland.  I would LOVE to have sat under her mentoring.  In the mean time…I will continue to  learn.  No more pompous writing experts for me. 

None.

Nada. 

I would rather go to my grave with just this journal I’ve written for my own personal pleasure than listen to fools tell me what I’ve done wrong….

    At this stage of my life, I have no interest in telling someone else how to live their lives- whether how they raise their kids, grow a garden, tend honey bees,  or whatever-  I aspire to live quietly, to work with my hands, be dependent on no one…. Period.

Ruth Stout is my role model for mentoring others… She had it (deep mulch gardening) figured out.   She did not want to be put on some pedestal.  She just did her own thing and then reported the results, and let people make their own conclusions.

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One more thought.  While this entry is mostly about being mentored in writing, it can really apply to any area of life.  I’ve seen it played out with gardening, raising honey bees, guns, carpentry, small engine repair, computers, parenting, marriage relationships, money management, fermentation,  etc. etc.

Good mentors are hard to find.

If you have one, I’d encourage you to  let them know how much you appreciate them.

Just a thought.

Take care.

DM