In case you were wondering…

This next bit of info won’t mean anything to you unless you’re a regular reader and are tracking the little details of our lives….

Mrs DM had the conversation today with the neighbor lady about driving to the Amish grocery store….conversation went very well….

DM

 

photo by google

Advertisements

Wrong Signals

Two quick stories….

Two weeks ago, my wife had her high school class reunion.  The night of the dinner/ dance,  Nancy, (one of the organizers) asked my wife if she wouldn’t mind dressing up in a fancy gown and wearing a tiara. One of my wife’s jobs was to  hand out drink tickets and greet people as they arrived.  Several of the organizers were going to dress up in clothes from the 70’s…  Wife had been elected home-coming queen her senior year, and Nancy thought it would be fun to have her do this… Wife does not like to be in the lime light, but said, she’d do it as a good sport….

Well, the next morning as we got ready for a school tour, Jerry, one of the guys from her class commented on how much of a flirt she was the night before.  His comment took my wife off guard and by surprise.   Knowing my wife’s heart as well as I do, after 30 some years of marriage,  a flirt-er she is not.    A kinder, more thoughtful person you will not meet…but what Jerry her classmate took for flirting was her trying to be a good sport.

Pause.

I have been working on a remodel job the past month for a very challenging and difficult person.  Angry, PTSD, verbally abusive,  the word bully came to mind the first week I was there….I am used to dealing with a wide range of personality types, love my job, felt very comfortable with the things we were doing to his house, so all of the negative energy, was going right past me…until the 2nd week in.   The guy started dropping homosexual comments in my direction.

It creeped me out.

A few of you have written about this sort of thing in your blogs and how a sense of humor can go along ways to diffuse sexual comments.  Well, after the “sense of humor/ ignore it” approach didn’t work, I finally laid the law down last Friday.

If I hear another perverted comment in my direction, I am walking off the job.  Period.

Me having a positive, can-do attitude  and being a good listener was somehow getting misconstrued into only God knows what…

It made me mad.

Because I am the father of 3  daughters  and have heard  (after the fact) multiple situations where they were harassed, more than once, I wanted to straighten out a set of kneecaps with a baseball bat… (in love mind you)  🙂

This sort of stuff gets wearisome .

We live in a sexually saturated culture.  I get that.

Mostly writing this out to vent.

Very thankful I don’t have to put up with it every day.

Later! DM

__________________________________________

And on a completely unrelated note… here’s a short video I filmed this week in the garden.  We had a heavy dew that morning and a spiderweb caught my eye. I grabbed the camera to take a few pictures….

It is so peaceful out there.

On Pause…well sort of :-)

I wanted to write a short note to those of you that have recently left  comments on my last couple of blog posts.  I apologize for not replying.   I do appreciate all of them.

My current construction project has been sucking the life out of me.

There is very little energy left @ the end of the day, and rather than spew a few empty words, I have felt quiet.

I guess you could say my blogs are on “pause.”

_________________________________________

PS…here is a picture of my latest find:

A claw foot tub.

Found it on a local garage sale website for $60….$60!!! It was a desire of my heart…literally.   I just started pricing claw foot bath tubs, and was getting sticker shock.

Hoping to refinish it this winter.

Have any of you ever refinished a bathtub?  If you have I would love to pick your brain.  I have already watched several you tube video’s on how it’s done.

 

“A desire fulfilled is sweet to the soul.”

Later! DM

 

How would you approach this?

Twice a month, my wife and a neighbor  take turns driving to an Amish discount grocery store.  It is a combination, girls day out, and a chance to save some serious $  on the food budget.

When I got home from work, the last time they made the trek, my wife looked at me and said, “We were almost killed this morning in a traffic accident.”

Our neighbor, is in her late 60’s, does not like to drive in traffic, and creeps along when she is out and about.   Apparently, she (the neighbor) did not look to her right as she turned left out of the driveway.  The Amish store is situated on a paved road, below the crest of a hill..accident waiting to happen.  There is not a lot of traffic on it, but all it takes is one screw up.  Just as they were about into their lane, a blue pickup truck, flew in front of them, going at least 60 mph.  Both wife and neighbor were startled,  and neighbor sheepishly admitted she had forgotten to look to her right.

THEN,  as they were having this conversation, a semi barreled over the hill and passed them on their left…he too was flying, and had they been in an accident with the pickup truck moments before, there was little doubt in my wife’s mind, that the semi would have ran into all of them.

It is not my place to tell my wife, how to run her life, BUT I did suggest, she think twice about riding in the same car with the neighbor, if she is driving.

Wife had already made up her mind, that was the last time.  I suggested saying something sooner than later about the driving arrangement, before the next trip rolls around.  Both of us are pretty sure, our neighbor will not respond graciously when my wife breaks the news…Their next trip is coming up in a week or so…and neighbor reminded my wife on the phone yesterday, it was her turn to drive.  Wife didn’t say anything on the phone.

I always think, as much as possible it is better to have those kind of conversations in person, rather than over the phone, via e-mail, etc. etc.

Any suggestions on how to have that conversation and how you would word it?

As far as I’m concerned, she is an accident waiting to happen.  I can  very easily see this drive a wedge in our neighborly relationship.

Oh well.

Landslide

We headed  to Cedar Rapids that night  to hear  live music at the Java Creek coffee-house. Scott and Michelle/ a husband wife duo, both master musicians in their own right,  took it to another level when they played together.  Michelle was teaching our daughter Rebekah guitar at the time and when they saw the three of us in the audience, they asked Rebekah to come up and sing a song with them.

It was all spur of the moment.

Rebekah picked Landslide.

Quick back story…When Rebekah worked as a Subway artist back in the day, it was not uncommon for her to lapse into song while at work…nor was it uncommon for someone who knew her, to request a song when she was working. She was like a little songbird 🙂

So there we were @ the Java Creek coffee-house, on a Friday night.  Our 16-year-old home schooled daughter took the stage with Scott and Michelle…she was wearing a leather trench coat.  Funny how  details like that stick in my head. 😉

Those couple of minutes  are still frozen in time in my mind.

She sounded  every bit as good as Stevie Nicks.

You could have heard a pin drop when they finished.

I still remember a young man sitting at a table close to us, wondering who in the heck that girl was. 😉

Anyway, Landslide was on the radio just now as I was driving home…took me right back…

 

The Disease of Being Busy

 

Came across the following article just the other day, on the topic of business.  The first several years after we were married, even after the kids started coming along, as a firstborn, workaholic myself, spending some unhurried time just talking would not have fit into my schedule.  I’ve written about that season of my life before…I’ve been on both sides of the equation,  I know what it’s like to be running on empty, and I know what it’s like (now) to be able to have margin.

Trust me, margin in life is worth fighting for…..DM

_________________________________

The Disease of Being Busy

by Omid Safi (@ostadjaan), Columnist

I saw a dear friend a few days ago. I stopped by to ask her how she was doing, how her family was. She looked up, voice lowered, and just whimpered: “I’m so busy… I am so busy… have so much going on.”

Almost immediately after, I ran into another friend and asked him how he was. Again, same tone, same response: “I’m just so busy… got so much to do.”

The tone was exacerbated, tired, even overwhelmed.

And it’s not just adults. When we moved to North Carolina about ten years ago, we were thrilled to be moving to a city with a great school system. We found a diverse neighborhood, filled with families. Everything felt good, felt right.

After we settled in, we went to one of the friendly neighbors, asking if their daughter and our daughter could get together and play. The mother, a really lovely person, reached for her phone and pulled out the calendar function. She scrolled… and scrolled… and scrolled. She finally said: “She has a 45-minute opening two and half weeks from now. The rest of the time it’s gymnastics, piano, and voice lessons. She’s just…. so busy.”

Horribly destructive habits start early, really early.

How did we end up living like this? Why do we do this to ourselves? Why do we do this to our children? When did we forget that we are human beings, not human doings?

Whatever happened to a world in which kids get muddy, get dirty, get messy, and heavens, get bored? Do we have to love our children so much that we overschedule them, making them stressed and busy — just like us?

What happened to a world in which we can sit with the people we love so much and have slow conversations about the state of our heart and soul, conversations that slowly unfold, conversations with pregnant pauses and silences that we are in no rush to fill?

How did we create a world in which we have more and more and more to do with less time for leisure, less time for reflection, less time for community, less time to just… be?

Somewhere we read, “The unexamined life is not worth living… for a human.” How are we supposed to live, to examine, to be, to become, to be fully human when we are so busy?

This disease of being “busy” (and let’s call it what it is, the dis-ease of being busy, when we are never at ease) is spiritually destructive to our health and wellbeing. It saps our ability to be fully present with those we love the most in our families, and keeps us from forming the kind of community that we all so desperately crave.

Since the 1950s, we have had so many new technological innovations that we thought (or were promised) would make our lives easier, faster, simpler. Yet, we have no more “free” or leisurely time today than we did decades ago.

For some of us, the “privileged” ones, the lines between work and home have become blurred. We are on our devices. All. The. Freaking. Time.

Smart phones and laptops mean that there is no division between the office and home. When the kids are in bed, we are back online.

One of my own daily struggles is the avalanche of email. I often refer to it as my jihad against email. I am constantly buried under hundreds and hundreds of emails, and I have absolutely no idea how to make it stop. I’ve tried different techniques: only responding in the evenings, not responding over weekends, asking people to schedule more face-to-face time. They keep on coming, in volumes that are unfathomable: personal emails, business emails, hybrid emails. And people expect a response — right now. I, too, it turns out… am so busy.

The reality looks very different for others. For many, working two jobs in low-paying sectors is the only way to keep the family afloat. Twenty percent of our children are living in poverty, and too many of our parents are working minimum wage jobs just to put a roof over their head and something resembling food on the table. We are so busy.

The old models, including that of a nuclear family with one parent working outside the home (if it ever existed), have passed away for most of us. We now have a majority of families being single families, or where both parents are working outside the home. It is not working.

It doesn’t have to be this way.

In many Muslim cultures, when you want to ask them how they’re doing, you ask: in Arabic, Kayf haal-ik? or, in Persian, Haal-e shomaa chetoreh? How is your haal?

What is this haal that you inquire about? It is the transient state of one’s heart. In reality, we ask, “How is your heart doing at this very moment, at this breath?” When I ask, “How are you?” that is really what I want to know.

I am not asking how many items are on your to-do list, nor asking how many items are in your inbox. I want to know how your heart is doing, at this very moment. Tell me. Tell me your heart is joyous, tell me your heart is aching, tell me your heart is sad, tell me your heart craves a human touch. Examine your own heart, explore your soul, and then tell me something about your heart and your soul.

Tell me you remember you are still a human being, not just a human doing. Tell me you’re more than just a machine, checking off items from your to-do list. Have that conversation, that glance, that touch. Be a healing conversation, one filled with grace and presence.

Put your hand on my arm, look me in the eye, and connect with me for one second. Tell me something about your heart, and awaken my heart. Help me remember that I too am a full and complete human being, a human being who also craves a human touch.

I teach at a university where many students pride themselves on the “study hard, party hard” lifestyle. This might be a reflection of many of our lifestyles and our busy-ness — that even our means of relaxation is itself a reflection of that same world of overstimulation. Our relaxation often takes the form of action-filled (yet mindless) films, or violent and face-paced sports.

I don’t have any magical solutions. All I know is that we are losing the ability to live a truly human life.

We need a different relationship to work, to technology. We know what we want: a meaningful life, a sense of community, a balanced existence. It’s not just about “leaning in” or faster iPhones. We want to be truly human.

  1. B. Yeats once wrote:

“It takes more courage to examine the dark corners of your own soul than it does for a soldier to fight on a battlefield.”

How exactly are we supposed to examine the dark corners of our soul when we are so busy? How are we supposed to live the examined life?

I am always a prisoner of hope, but I wonder if we are willing to have the structural conversation necessary about how to do that, how to live like that. Somehow we need a different model of organizing our lives, our societies, our families, our communities.

I want my kids to be dirty, messy, even bored — learning to become human. I want us to have a kind of existence where we can pause, look each other in the eye, touch one another, and inquire together: Here is how my heart is doing? I am taking the time to reflect on my own existence; I am in touch enough with my own heart and soul to know how I fare, and I know how to express the state of my heart.

How is the state of your heart today?

Let us insist on a type of human-to-human connection where when one of us responds by saying, “I am just so busy,” we can follow up by saying, “I know, love. We all are. But I want to know how your heart is doing.”

From this link:

https://onbeing.org/blog/the-disease-of-being-busy/

Gracie

I like to mix things up at work when I can.

We were roofing a house the summer of 2008.  It was the year I got Winston the pig.  She was still a little piglet.  The second day on the job, I brought Winston to work with me.  The family I was working for had a young girl named Gracie.

Gracie asked at the end of the day if Winston could stay overnight and have a sleep over with her and her little dogs.

Why not? Right 😉

 

The local small town newspaper got wind of this sleepover.

( I called them)

Editor came up later in the day to do a short story and take an action photo.

While I was shingling that day, I had this urge to hear the story of Charlotte’s Web….I asked if Gracie  would mind reading it out loud to me while I worked.  Their roof was only one story, with a shallow pitch, and I thought, most kids would love to be able to climb up on the roof of their home, as long as it was safe….and Gracie was more that willing.

I can still remember Gracie sitting there reading to me…seems like it was just a few years ago.

This afternoon, I am attending a Gracie’s high school graduation reception

It touched me that I was invited….

Wouldn’t miss it for the world.

In case you’ve never see it, here’s a picture of Winston, shortly before I had to tell her goodby:

Now that was some pig.