Another Love Story

Last week I wrote a short ditty on how I (DM)  met my wife.  I asked one of my regular readers  (Paul) about how he and his significant other met….  I had a hunch they had an interesting story, and I was not mistaken.

This is Paul’s story….

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Another Love Story.

Here’s my story….
Marriage down the pan and I’m kinda holding it together BUT have you ever noticed how going for a drink, a meal, to the cinema, or just out for a walk along the beach on your own, people look at you funny.

Table for one? Sorry full up.
They aren’t but I wasn’t exactly the nice looking, respectable, rich guy.

Go into a pub, and the stares during the 39 steps between the door and the bar stool sort of got to me.
Eventually to the extent of looking round at the inquisitive faces and saying “What, private club is it!?!”

So, fed up of being single, i.e. alone, I put an advert a paper for someone (female) to join me in going out, food, drink, movies.
Just a friend, that’s all, AND I MEANT IT TOO.
Why female? Dinner for two used to be accepted as normal if it was a heterosexual couple.

Anyway, the advert. A couple of ladies answered.
Err the short list was extremely short i.e. one of them in fact and that didn’t really go anywhere because they wanted “companionship”, I just wanted a friend.

Resubmitting the advert was me on the edge of packing everything I owned into the trunk of the car and go traveling.
I had some vague idea of round the world using my skill-base to make money.
How daft was that? My skill base was what had screwed me up but hey, you work with the tools you’ve got don’t you.
Way I saw it was me probably ending up in a ditch somewhere.
Quite frankly I didn’t give a damn which ditch either as long as it wasn’t in the UK.

Then the second post arrived.
One in particular made me smile.
SWMBO (to be).
She kinda made me laugh and that stopped me dead.
A sense of humor? Wow.

So, one ‘nervous’ phone call later we met.

As above SWMBO will explain what happened (sort of).

For some reason this girl got right under my skin, past the firewalls, into my head.
No slushy bit, well the occasional holding hands. Call it being friendly if you like.
Yet there was something about her and it was driving me MAD!
It’s her manner with people, her ways, those 101 little things that you like, or dislike, yet can’t get enough of.
Then I reached the stage of dashing home to get changed to meet her.
Then she came to my works on a Saturday to sit and drink coffee while I worked!
It somehow dawned on me that we were a couple.

Aw hell! How did that happen.
The car got gently unpacked and the rest, as they say, is history.

However what SWMBO got was a raw deal.
An almost divorcee, but with her help that was finalized.
Yippee. The celebration was heartfelt and fun!

A basket case through combat stress.
I just had two pennies to rub together.
The rules of my life were:-
Look after and fill the car with gas, pay the rent, and anything else got spent on food and living.
Not quite broke the whole time but peanuts and boiled rice figured heavily on the menu.
And a warning about health issues which may put me into a wheelchair in later years.

Yet she just shrugged at all of that.
We’ve all got baggage, everyone has, but to us this was a new life we had started.
So no questions from either side, no doubts, This is day one.

We must be doing something right after 28 years of togetherness, 26 of them married.

Ultimately I got the best out of the deal although my investment has shrunk over the past year as SWMBO has lost weight.
One objection. I never knew she was so bony.

And finally some notes.
We became an ‘us’. Never one, we come as a pair.
“What’s mine is ours, what’s hers is hers”.
Funny thing? That’s SWMBO’s words.
Although she does draw the line at pinching my skivvies (shorts)..

Lastly there is a phrase I use to describe what I feel.
I’m as happy as a pig in the mire and and looking forward to growing old(er) together.

From nothing to everything yet still with little in material wealth.
Does that matter though? Not to me.
Tis the prerogative of the poor to say they are richer in other things.
In our case that’s true and I wouldn’t swap one tiny second of what we’ve got.

And here is a link to  SWMBO’s version of this love story. 🙂

How To: Wild Child

Yesterday I made my third batch of “Wild Child.”

What in the heck is “Wild Child”?

When I am in the lab kitchen and make something new, if it turns out, it gets named….in this case,  I named my latest creation “Wild Child” the moment I tasted it.

The multiple flavors and textures  exploded in my mouth,it was visually beautiful to behold and it was good for me…with all of that going for it, it had to have a name that popped.

I continue to work my way, slowly  into the world of fermentation. As per Sando Katz’s suggestion to experiment with texture as well as with various fruit and vegetable combinations, I upped the ante and tripled the amount of peanuts  sweet peppers, and apples yesterday.

Wild Child is 1000% more tasty than its cousin sauerkraut.

This  lacto-fermenting colorful mixture will soon be “brimming with healthy probiotics.”

Wild child 1

Raw ingredients of Wild Child

Don’t have the time to unpack  the health benefits attributed to eating fresh unpasteurized foods this morning vs the pasteurized crap   foods , but they are in two different leagues.  Here’s a link if you’re curious. That article talks about Sauerkraut, but it applies to all fermented foods.

I’ve chosen to use air locks when I’m making small batches of fermented  foods.  You don’t have to, as long as you keep whatever you are fermenting weighed down below the brine.  I just think those little gizmo’s look neat, plus when the fermentation process starts to kick in,  (after a day or two) I like watching it bubble.

Yea, I know, I’m easily entertained. 😉

 

wild child ready to ferment

Ingredients ready to rock

in air locked jars

 

Wild Child

(1) head of cabbage

(1 or 2)  colorful peppers

(1) small can of nuts  (I used salted Spanish peanuts this time)

(3) large apples

(1) cup of raisins

(1) t cumin    (Mrs DM doesn’t care for that spice so I made her a separate batch and skipped this.  I prefer it, because it adds another layer of flavor, and is supposed to be good for you 😉

(2) T pickling salt or slightly less.

Directions:  cut everything up in small pieces, then sprinkle the pickling salt over it.  Knead for 3 to 5 minutes until everything gets limp and juicy…If you’ve never “kneaded” raw vegetables before with a dash of pickling salt, you’re in for a surprise.

At this point, I packed the above ingredients into a 2 qt jar.  Keep packing it in until you absolutely can’t get any more in, and everything is submerged in liquid…I will add just a little water if needed.  put the cap with the air lock on  (or put it in crock that you can cover lightly..

  Do not just put it in a jar with a lid, or it will explode.

That quantity of fruits, vegetables and nuts yielded about 3 quarts. I filled my jars and ate the rest  fresh.

Time to run.  DM

 

 

A Short Love Story

True story

He sat in the front row of the class room every morning. Directly in front of the door, so that the second the alarm bell rang he would  be the first to shoot out the door. Small for his age, he wore nerdy glasses, loved to go to the library and read, played the trumpet.

He was shy,  cripplingly so. Had no idea how to carry on a normal conversation with  a girl.

When he was 16 his brother and he were talking about girls one night.  The boy realized if something didn’t change, he was destined to be single his entire life.

There was this girl in home room, he had a secret crush on.  She was a year younger, sat with all of the popular kids in the back of the room.  She had long dark hair.  She was athletic. Played varsity basketball her freshman year.  She came from a well to do family.

Totally out of his league.

One day in Spanish lab, the cute girl and her friend asked the shy boy a question about a homework assignment.  The conversation lasted all of thirty seconds.

Would you believe through a series of serendipitous circumstances that boy eventually did get a date with that cute girl…..and then years later…they were married.

I was thinking about that kid this morning.

Because that kid was me.

 

 

A Nun, A Machinist, and a Dairy Maid

What do a nun, a machinist and a dairy maid all have in common?

Any guesses?

They are all in my  Beekeeping class.

Last night was week five.

One more week to go.

The atmosphere in the classroom  last night was  electric.  Thirty five people from all walks of life, ranging in age from twelve to seventy-five.  At least 50% of the class are women.

We talked about motivation for going into bee keeping again. Discovered motives were as varied as the people there.

Our instructor told us, this will be his 26th year managing bees… just about everything you can do wrong, he’s done.

When he started out, he didn’t have anyone to mentor him. He did know of one other guy, but that person refused to return his phone calls.

To sit under a master, who is willing to share his wisdom, now that is a gift.

I mentioned on Facebook last week, we were moving in the direction of getting honeybees, and  I had eight different people tell me they wanted to buy honey  when it was ready….

Eight sales, and I don’t even have any bees yet. 🙂

I think I’ve discovered an itch.

Did you know, that large-scale honey producers can cut their honey by as much as 30% and still call it “Pure”?

Something is wrong with that picture.

We also touched briefly on the topic of “organic honey.”   Well, that is also a murky topic.   A beekeeper has no control of where his honeybees will forage, (lawns sprayed with insecticides,  etc.  are all fair game.  A honey bee will travel three miles (or more) in search of pollen and nectar, so according to our instructor, there is just one honey producer in the Dakota’s who is legitimately  certified “organic” because of the several square miles of ground they own…everybody else is pulling your leg…no matter what they say. (Next time you’re in the store, study the labels on the honey jar and get back to me with what you find out)

I crave integrity.  It is such a precious commodity.  While I am far from perfect, I work really hard at being a man of my word.  Two weeks ago, I sold one of my harvest tables to a lady on the East coast.  After a few e-mails back and forth, we talked on the phone. She was amazed I didn’t want a deposit up front, said it was a delight to deal with someone she felt she could trust.  I told her I had not been burnt yet, and that’s how I prefer to run my business.

Yes, on the larger projects I do have written contracts, it’s better for both parties to get as much as possible clearly spelled out and in writing.

Pause.

Now how in the world, did I get from talking about beekeeping to cultivating trust in relationships?

The common thread is trust, and integrity. 😉

(Which is still alive and well, here in the Hinterlands.)

Check out that post on the Hinterlands if you have a second…I wrote it a couple three years ago,  for my farm blog.

So, tell me, how about you,….are there still pockets of trust and integrity where you live?  Give me an example.  Tell me a story. I love stories.

Thanks in advance! DM

 

 

 

 

 

Knowing when to get angry

“You have to learn what’s worth getting angry about.”  Lester said to me  in his gentle way.

I was 16 years old, had just unleashed a string of profanities.

That conversation took place over 40 years ago and  I can STILL remember it to this day.

I remember thinking, “You know, he’s right.  Nobody pays too much attention to me now when I get mad.  That can’t be good.”

Lester  reminded me of Ben Franklin….

Retired farmer,

Bib overhauls…

Here’s an early crew photo…Lester is in the middle and I’m to his right:

Work crew from back in the day.  We had just finished pouring a basement wall.

And yes, that was a can of Old Mill in my hand.

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These days, it does take a lot more to light the fire.

The fuse got lit on Tuesday.

I’m temporarily working with another construction company…

My work load had slowed up, and this crew needed some extra help.

Win win.

Tuesday night  on the way home, my cell phone rang,  it was the boss…He’d just got off the phone with the customer of the job I’ve been at the past month.    It was implied we were taking too long to finish the project and we needed to start putting in 10 hour days.

You’ll have to take my word on this one, but I have been busting my chops the past 5 weeks  with a crew of 2 (just myself and a helper.)

The week previous I  picked up some  little clues the boss thought we must surely be about done, he had sent Dave to round-up the screw guns, and extension chords .  I could see we had at least another 2 to 3 weeks, assuming there were no more change orders.  To compound my frustration, the boss has not personally set foot on the job site for two weeks,…. he personally hates detail work   (which is what we have left to finish)…

Fast forward to this phone call….

After I hung up, Jack, who was riding in the truck with me and  who had heard my side of the conversation asked what that was all about?

I repeated what I’d been told.   He reacted with “That is bull@#$%”   (which is German for “That is not fair!”)

We both felt unappreciated and misjudged.

I could feel the anger start to build.  Rather than just stuff it, I wrote a punch list (things yet to do) when I got home.

The next morning I was @ the shop 30 minutes early, with the intention of talking to the boss one on one.

When  I got there,  the crew was already starting to trickle in. I asked to talk  with the boss in the office.   He said he didn’t  think it was necessary so I gave him the punch list in front of the assembled.    I told him  someone else could finish those items because I had my hands full,  framing walls and installing glass board.

He told me I was  quote “over-responding” and made light of my frustration.

(This is in front of others mind you.)

I told someone later, the mind games, the  passive – aggressive behavior, in the midst of conflict no longer works on me quite like they once did.

Anger in and of itself, is not always a bad thing…..it all depends on what you do with it.

Anger reminds me of rocket fuel.

If you’re not careful, it can ignite, blow up and you’ll have a bigger problem.

Anger can be a wonderful  motivator for change and conflict resolution.

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Update 2/23/17.  I posted this for a specific group of people.  I realize most of you didn’t know me when I was younger, but I entered adulthood as a hard core people pleaser, with a very low self image. One of the issues that dogged me back then, was an inability to stand up for myself in a healthy way.  People would take advantage of me, even older family members. I would be manipulated, talked down to, on and on. Internally, I would seethe, but NEVER, EVER< give voice to any of it….

And then, through the efforts of a friend, I addressed the low self esteem head on, and ever so gradually, my life began to change…so by the time this event took place I wrote about, my response was a 180 degree flip from the old DM….and the boss I wrote about, didn’t know what to do with me.  He was used to the  old compliant DM…so I wrote this to give hope to the people pleaser, the person with a low self esteem.  You do not have to live there.  There are greener pastures.  I am not talking about turning into a mean spirited abusive person.  I am talking about wholeness in your inner person…it is radical stuff..and it is good.

 

Ticking

I saw my dad this morning for two seconds.

I wished there would have been some way to capture that image of him in a picture..but since that was impossible, I wanted to do the next best thing and write about it.

I had an early  trip out-of-town this morning,  and my route took me right past the farm.

And there he was…

I suppose he was outside feeding the  cats.

It was just after sunrise.

The artist in me noticed the  shadows.  (I notice shadows all the time)

I noticed he was wearing his bibs.

Keep in mind all of this happened in a moment.  When you’re going 60 miles per hour,  things fly by pretty quick.

Several things stirred in my gut, in that moment.

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12 hours later….

I just got off the phone with mom.  We talked for 15 minutes.

I asked her if Dad had seen me this morning? 😉

Yep, He figured I was going out for breakfast with a neighbor.  I told her no. Son John  and I were taking off on a 6 hour road trip and I had to stop by their neighbors to pick up a stock trailer.

My dad is in the evening season of his life.  Not sure how many more years he and mom will be able to live on the farm.  Hopefully, several more…

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Tell me about an older person in your life that has a special place in your heart…It doesn’t have to be a relative.    Maybe they are still alive, and maybe they have passed on.  What do (or did)  you appreciate  about that person, what do you miss ?  Would you mind sharing a memory or a story?  (The longer/ more detailed the better) 😉  DM

 

Doing Hard Things

What was I thinking ?!?!?

My friend Mary had talked me into going on this trip.  She had talked me into d-tasseling corn too.  I should have known.

Mary was out-doorsey.  I was not.  This was to be a camping, whitewater rafting, climb out of the Grand Canyon adventure.

I didn’t do adventures.  I read adventures.  I was a bona fide, certified, hardcore bookworm.

Mary was my best friend. She was silly, goofy, fun to be around and persuasive.

It was the 1970’s.  I look back on this experience as one of the most thrilling and hardest things I’ve  ever done in my life.  Whitewater rafting was thrilling.

The ascent out of the Grand Canyon was just plain hard.

Up until that trip, my one experience camping was an overnight, under the stars with Mary, in her front yard, camp out.

At this point I must insert a tidbit of personal info.  My DNA shows I am 56% Irish.  Dark Irish. Dark auburn hair,  blue eyes, fair skin with freckles Irish.  I was/am white white, pale white, pure white. As one of my classmates put it, blinding white.

I do not do well in heat.

There was a reason I stayed indoors and read.

When it came time to climb out of the Grand Canyon, Mary set a goal to be one of the first of our group to make it to the top.  She said goodby to me when I started to slow down.  As the temperature rose, I emotionally spiraled.  Looking ahead, there were miles of switchback trail ahead of me.  I hoped just to make it to the top by sundown!  Other than the occasional passerby, some on mules, I was alone.  I honestly didn’t know if and how I was going to make it.

I was athletic, playing several different sports – but this, this was different. This was grueling, testing me to my limits.  I was in a hard place.  In the end it came down to focusing on one thing… one step at a time.

I learned something that day.  Face the hard thing head on, and take one step at a time.  Then take the next step.  I saw what I was capable of.  I do possess determination,  fortitude, tenacity, and courage.

hikersonbrightangeltrail

Google Image  Grand Canyon switchbacks 


I took another journey recently … life changing.  Every bit as hard as climbing out of the Grand Canyon.

I signed up for a class called The Ultimate Journey.

I heard  many positive things about it.  One lady said she had been in counseling for years and this class helped her more than all the years of counseling combined.  Hmm

Was I afraid to face the past? Yes!

Hard Thing- step one.  sign-up for class.

Hard Thing – step two- Go to first class.

Hard Thing-  step three – Go to second class.

Next thing I know, I’m looking forward to class and I was sad when it ended.

I made friends.  I’m more peaceful. There is freedom.  I am more compassionate with myself and others.

 

I wrote this quote on our blackboard as a reminder:

“When it is all said and done, we’re all just walking each other home.” Ram Dass.

 

grand-canyon-backpacking-rim-to-rim

Google image

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This was another in a series of guest posts…this one written by my wife.  DM

Fired Up

 

This morning  I read an article titled 5 ways total strangers can make your trip better

It reminded me of one of my all time favorite conversations with a complete stranger….

It happened like this….

We were  visiting our eldest daughter in Wisconsin.  Lunch time rolled around and  daughter suggested we needed to visit her new favorite place to eat……

The deli @ her hometown grocery store.  (I love that girl!)

So we piled in the van and headed into town.

Everything was just as she promised.

Broasted chicken, fish, roast beast,  fresh watermelon, strawberries, salads, dark roast coffee, etc. etc.

The only thing they didn’t have was adequate seating.  As we stood there weighing our options I worked up the nerve to ask a  businessman sitting at a table by himself..“Would  he mind if we joined him?”

“Not at all!”

So we grabbed another chair and the (5) of plopped down next to him.

Community building started right away…

Who we were, what brought us to town, yada, yada…

And how about him?….turned out he worked as an engineer for one of the bigger businesses there in town… more small talk…he loved his job…  yada yada… and then somehow we stumbled across his current passion…

Brewing artisan beer in his garage.

One question led to another…

It was fascinating.

We were introduced to  the microbial  world of beer fermentation (and none of our party even drinks beer).

You could feel the energy around the table. There was a genuine sense of connectedness and letting down of our guards.

Then before we knew it, it was time to go our separate ways.

Pause.

That sense of connection is the main reason I blog. It has created opportunities to get to know people I otherwise would have never met…

and at a level that is virtually impossible to get to any other way. I’m sure it has a lot to do with the type of topics we  interact over. Last count, Mrs DM and I have met seven of you in person, some of you more than once.

Without exception, you have all been exactly as I would have expected..except better.  Each time, it has felt like I was meeting a long-lost relative.

So tell me, If I was sitting @ the deli table with you right now, and  asked, What is something you enjoy that gets you fired up what would it be?

I really do want to know! DM

 

 

Another evening at a beekeeping class

The chiefest cause, to read good bookes,

That moves each studious minde

Is hope, some pleasure sweet therein,

Or profit good to finde.

Now that delight can greater be

Than secrets for to knowe

Of Sacred Bees, The Muses’ Birds,

All which this booke doth showe

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From the preface to First Lessons In Beekeeping

     I am inhaling a 6 week evening class on the basics of beekeeping.  Last night was week 3.  There are 35 men and women, boys and young ladies in the room,  all spell-bound by the wisdom we are hearing. (“and learning the secrets of the sacred bees”) 😉

    It is one thing to read a good book, it is something entirely different, to be able to interact with someone in person.

ie.  “This is what they suggest in the book, BUT……………. Here is what I’ve discovered happens  if you do that in our area.”

     Our instructor Jim has been keeping bees  for ???? (Not sure how many years)   I do know he  manages  around 400 hives in a three state area.

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       And on a personal note….

    Last Saturday and again on Monday,  I had the opportunity to mentor two different people interested in either starting an orchard or tending existing apple trees.  Both spent a couple of hours with me as  we talked specifics.  I enjoy those kind of opportunities.  It feels like I am passing the torch on to the next generation myself,  although in this case, both students were at least as old or older than myself). 😉

    Back to the bees…..

      I feel like a racehorse in the gate at the Kentucky Derby when I think about managing a bee hive (or 3)….

    The creative juices are already starting to flow…..

     wild-bee-2012

Wild bee in our  orchard

2012 growing season

The Philosopher’s Scales

I love stepping back in time.

Do you doubt me?

Do you doubt it can’t be done?

My favorite doorway into history is fragile,  thread bound, sometimes ink stained, original editions books… (before the politically correct crowd has had a chance to get their little hands on them.)

Back in 2007 I was doing  research for a local history project and wanted to immerse myself in the 1830’s….

On a lark I purchased an assortment of  original edition school textbooks from 1833 up until late 1800’s …McGuffy Readers, Ray’s Arithmetic,  etc. on e-bay.

And it worked.  I was able to re-enter the world of 1839 through the eyes of a teacher, and the scholar.  (Students were called “scholar” back then.)

Well, the  last few nights I have been pulling  the  First Class Reader compiled by B.D. Emerson  1833 off the shelf  and discovered several keepers.

Pause.

I am an educator.

Not formally trained but, an educator, never the less.

A teacher friend of ours, who  has a  degree, and who has sat in my class room on numerous occasions, once said something to me about my teaching ability  that removed all doubt in my mind of that concern. (Could I teach?)

Anyway, back to the book…I  wanted to share a portion of a poem by Jane Taylor (  link) entitled The Philosopher’s Scales… (She died in 1824.  She was a prolific writer and poet, most famous for her poem Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. 🙂

I’m going to only share part of it.  Some of the words and her analogies may require a little digging on your part if you want to suck  the marrow out… DM

The Philosopher’s Scales

What were they? – you ask:

you shall presently see;

These scales were not made to weigh sugar and tea;

O no; – for such properties wondrous had they,

That qualities, feelings, and thoughts they could weigh,

 

Together with articles, small or immense,

From mountains or planets to atoms of sense;

Nought was there so bulky but there it could lay,

and nought so ethereal but there it would stay;

And nought so reluctant but in it must go: –

All which some examples more clearly will show…….

 

Next time he put in Alexander the Great.

With a garment that Dorcas had made- for a weight;

And though clad in armor from sandals to crown,

The hero rose up, and the garment went down….

 

By further experiments (no matter how)

He found that ten chariots weighed less that one plough.

A sword, with gilt trappings, rose up in the scale,

Though balanced by only a ten penny nail.

A Lord and a lady went up at full sail,

When a bee chanced to light on the opposite scale.

 

Ten doctors, ten lawyers, two courtiers, one earl,-

Ten counselor’s wigs full of powder and curl,-

All heaped in one balance, and swinging from thence,

Weighed less than some atoms of candor and sense;-

A first-water diamond, with brilliance begirt,

Than one good potato just washed from the dirt;-

_______________________

Pause

Sometimes I wrestle with whether or not my life is accounting for much….compared to, let’s say, someone in politics,  certain professions, etc.   And after immersing myself in a poem (like this one)  my heart is again re calibrated, and tracking as it should.

(Like when you take your car into your mechanic and he does a front end alignment.)

 

Question for you the reader….

Are there certain authors, poets, books, poems, quotes etc. that you love, that helps you to stay on track?   I would love to hear about them.  If you have a link, post it.   DM