Observations

Post-Monsoon Mushrooms

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Due to the “much” rain in north Texas early this week, some of the fruits of the rain are creating the inevitable contrast with the grass (presently green).  I am not talking about greener grass (although it is true).  I am not talking about swimming pools that are still nearly overflowing.  (In our pool, the pool will drain the water off until it gets below a certain level.)  I am, of course, talking about the mushroom.

I saw many different varieties on my walk today.  I had no confidence in any prior mushroom recognition skills to pick one up and start chewing.  The varieties were all similar: some sort of toadstool type of thing.  (Not good for eating anyways)  Seeing that many made me think of how mushroom were a lot more numerous up north.  While I am at it, it is worth noting the growth in the beds.  The fungus loves the moisture.  Its mottled brown kind of wavy growth is certainly not something you would plant.  However, the fungus seems to either be a free additive in the bags of mulch or it is a special treasure the flower beds reserves for extra wet conditions. (My kids know they can expect to hear, “There is a fungus among us.” whenever I hear the word.)

It also must be noted the anger mushrooms seem to bring up in people.  It seems observing a mushroom minding its own business is too much for people.  They (or people like me) seem to find it overly compelling to either kick off the top of the mushroom or manually remove its lid.  Fortunately, I have some restraint.  I am usually content destroying only one of family of mushrooms.  Some of my lesser brethren cannot resist the urge to destroy not only the family but any extended family that dwells in close proximity. (In the above picture one of the mushroom family was deceased and on the sidewalk…not at my hand or foot…)

Is there a moral here?  Probably not.  I hope in my observations someone might find a smile as their brains dance through the memories each reader has access to.  And, if not, feel free to borrow some of my memories-none of mine are copyrighted!

Love This Story

I can’t help but love how this mother handled this problem.  If something offends you, you don’t like it and none of the stores employees will take action, take out your credit card and purchase all of the offensive items.  The great part is she will return the shirts w/i 60 days for a full refund.

There are different ways of protesting.  Many may involve doing offensive things.  But, this is a simple way to solve a problem w/o whining and making it everyone’s problem.  I need to look for ways to do the same!

 

Getting Old (PG Version)

This is the year.  No, not just any year.  This is the year I hit the half century mark.  I don’t feel it.  Not having lived in anyone else s body before, it seems to feel about right.  I will try and note what is different than it was 30 years ago (or 20, but maybe not 5):

  • Bifocals:  Most days I almost don’t notice the switch I made to these special lenses.  Did I say “Bi-focals”?  I meant “Tri-focals”.  I don’t wear contacts; I only wear the lenses.  Most times the eyes feel like the eyes of a few decades ago.  A recent book I was reading on the kindle has VERY small print.  If reading in bed, I had to lean up and tilt my head back to get the right part of the lenses on the text.  “The” special lenses are a little humbling.  As aging goes, I don’t have any other optic concerns.
  • Bathroom visits:  Fortunately, I don’t have many sleeping problems.  (One will be noted shortly.)  Unless you count me enjoying a big glass of tea after 6:00.  If I do this, sleeping isn’t the problem, but sleeping the whole night is not likely to be unlikely.  Around 2:00 I wander into the bathroom.  If I am lucky, my brain never woke up.  If I am unlucky (and the more likely), my brain has a series of random thoughts fro 30 minutes or so.  (Random thoughts means there is brain activity–a good thing.  AND, something that has been taking place in this declining body for all of the nearly 5 decades I have been neglecting it.  Should I be doing daily brain exercises as I age or does bantering with the kids count?)
  • Spices:  It just doesn’t sit as easily as it used to sit.  If it is too spicy, all parts of my digestive tract are likely to voice their individual displeasure.  I sometimes think, “I shouldn’t was these peppers that come with our fajitas.”  A couple hours afterward, I realize wasting was the MUCH smarter choice.
  • Caffeine:  I used to be able to have a few cups of coffee in the morning.  The only downside was the taste quality deteriorated as I hit cup 3.  Recently, I have found having 2 cups of coffee puts me MUCH more on edge.  I am ready to leap through the phone with no explanation beyond being over-caffeine-stimulated.  So, if I consider doing 2 cups on any given day, I need to put an hour or more between them.  Sniff, Sniff.  At least, tea seems to treat an almost “old” person with more respect!
  • Ear plugs:  This has been a phenomenon of the past couple of years.  With very few exceptions (one of those absolute exhaustion), ear plugs keep me brain from being excessively active.  Not that I sleep in a bed with anyone who ever snores, but if I did, having something to mute the sound would certainly be a good thing.  The obvious answer is as I have aged my brain has become a more efficient machine that sees sleep as just a luxury for the young and mentally deficient.  Regardless, I prefer to indulge in regular sleep to try and keep this bag of bones operating long enough to allow time for the grey matter to work out its deep and world-changing thoughts.
  • Cracking joints:  They always cracked some
  • Vitamins:  Have taken them nearly all of my life.  Now, they have titles like “50 plus” or mention helping with “male menopause”  (or would it just be womenopause?).  They have things to combat joint issues, prostate issues, and all of the issues that I didn’t want to think about when I was much younger.
  • Ears:  I have not checked my ear lobes, but I have read they lengthen as we age.  My ears now need shaved/plucked quite frequently.  I am really not a fan of the part of the program.  However, it is nothing a quick glance in the mirror and a couple of strong fingers can’t fix.

Men’s Retreat 2014

I had the privilege this past weekend of attending the men’s conference at our church.  I am not much of a retreat/conference guy.  My history is a little patchy attending christian men’s events.

  • Retreats:  By definition, I guess retreats involve “overnight”.  As long as ear plugs are in my bag, this is typically not a problem.  (My own bed is better.  Better sleep typically equals a much better ability to really get into the retreat.)  Maybe it is the tiredness they play upon.  As people are more tired they can be more emotional.  The more emotional, the more effective a retreat.  Cynical?  Maybe.  I will give my testimony and witness to nearly anyone.  I am not embarrassed by my faith.  At retreats (and conferences but w/o the overnight so they have to go over the top a little higher), they introduce elements of drama to really pull at the heart strings.  (examples are having a cross at front and inviting attendees to “nail” their personal sins on the cross,  Or, the alter calls are done in such a way that you feel almost like you are without a heart if you refuse to go forward.)  I am not saying these methods are wrong.  I am not known for wearing my emotions on my sleeve.  And, even if I cry easier than I used to, I am not of the school (or I don’t have any skeletons presently in my closet) where theatrics lull me into a hypnotic state.
  • So MANY people:  At this weekends retreat, the weather was colder than expected.  The planners hoped the outdoors could play a more significant role as the men “hung” out.  It certainly would have helped me.  The first floor was SO crowded.  I got my food, snack or drink and headed to the second floor.  The crowds were nearly non-existent.  I could have a couple of conversations without feeling claustrophobic.  (I guess this means I don’t have agoraphobia)  If I knew more people, the crowds would not be as overwhelming.  Not knowing many, made it impossible to see the trees.  I only saw the forest and felt the fear of the unknown.  If I don’t engage in any conversations, then I don’t have to be reminded I know so few people at the church.  I admit it from the start.  Anything socially can then be a trickle rather than a fire hose.
  • So much standing:  I certainly see where standing can get the crowd more involved.  For a couple of songs, I can vote “yes” with my feet.  As the songs keep adding up, my varicose veins (not sure if actual or ingrained) say “sit”.  Usually, I do.  When standing (whine warning), I am usually not one of the clappers.  I seem to be able to do 2 of the 3: sing, stand or clap.  Rarely, do I neglect the singing.  Although I realize I am a victim of my past worship styles, the “singing” is a truly worshipful part of it.  Maybe if I did not take as much interest in the singing, I would be a bigger clapper or stander.  As long as God grants me a voice that can carry a tune, I will vote with my lips.
  • Speakers with their spin:  I believe God has gifted certain people to teach others.  One speaker may speak to the heart of a portion of the conference.  Likely, not everyone is going to “get” him in the same way.  For me, I put more emphasis on what a person was before they became who they are.  If I don’t know much of who they are, all of their philosophies on being a better father/son/christian/husband/servant are slightly hollow.  I would rather hear a guy tell me how he had a misspent youth before being saved.  When I hear his testimony, I can say, “I get him.”  If another speaker tells me all of the things he has done or I should do but gives me minimum insight into his faith journey, I question whether I want to follow in his steps.  The fruit is tastier if I know the type of tree it grows on….
  • Music:  As much as I may whine about some of the aspects of men’s conferences, the music (with the exception of the standing) is something I consistently enjoy.  I love to hear men sing (I say this assuming songs are picked within the right singing range).  Music with a “rock ‘n roll” beat and Christian lyrics is the best.  My youth was spent with this type of music, but less than desirable lyrics.  The choruses and the mix of styles (even some rap can be okay) gives many options for worship.  Although I cannot sing them all, I am content to listen to someone else sing/perform.  When singing my lips are sometimes on auto-pilot.  When listening, the spiritual truths of the song have time to penetrate my often thick, stubborn skull.

Should you go to a men’s conference?  (If not a male, the appropriate gender conference.) My kids have heard numerous times what is necessary to say they don’t like something–they must try it.  I did enjoy the music at the recent conference.  Certainly, I did glean something from some of the speakers.  My primary reason for going was to get my son there.  It was his first and he REALLY enjoyed it.  Would I go again?  I absolutely would if HE wanted to go again.  Otherwise, I am probably good for a couple of years.

Knuckle Injuries

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Trying to be a good husband last weekend, I committing to moving some plants and planting some new plants in the flower bed.  While executing the plan, I neglected to plan for the injuries that so often accompany these landscaping moments.

The knuckle on the middle finger was created while using a pick to try and take out a very large root from our now non-existent magnolia tree.  While lifting up the pick handle, my finger, although wearing a glove, became wedged between the handle and a barely visible sprinkler head.  The other injury (on the top knuckle of the pointer finger on the same hand) was caused when I grabbed a tool out of the tool rack.  This finger was slit by a sharp edge of one of the other tools.  The “how” of the injuries is not really important.  It is the challenge of living with injured knuckles until they heal that is the real point.

These are the things injured knuckles have made more difficult:

  • Tucking in clothes:  Most people don’t tuck anymore, but I still do. So, it can be a knuckle-bumping opportunity.
  • Hand washing:  The washing is not ALL bad.  The soap may burn a little.  It is the drying that is the worst.  The knuckles tend to get a little abuse during the drying process.  And, being a little nutty about germs, does cause frequent washings.
  • Flossing:  My flossing technique has me wrapping the string around my top knuckles of both pointer fingers.  While doing the “flossing” thing, the injury does get irritated.  I am a big boy and can handle it.  Finger injuries are just not forgotten while they heal.
  • Tying shoes:  Again, fingers can be swapped while the knots are being made.  Until the knuckles are healed, I am reminded many times during the day that my fingers are VERY valuable.
  • Digging into front pockets:  I have to be careful here so I don’t dig into my pocket with the knuckles unprotected.  If I dig in with the knuckles “tucked in”, they don’t rub against the inside of the pocket.  If I don’t tuck, the scab is scraped off leaving a trickle of blood coming from the re-injured area.
  • Going outside when it is cold and your knuckles dry out:  This happened just this morning.  Even with gloves on, my knuckles bled.  They were so dry a small amount of blood trailed off in the knuckle wrinkles.
  • Buckling seatbelts:  It will hurt more depending on which hand the knuckle injury is on.  In my case, OWWWWWWW!!!!

Do I mean to whine?  I am trying to do a sub-par Andy Rooney impression?  No, I am just doing a brain dump and capturing a few thoughts.  I appreciate you reading.  I will try to do better next time!

The US In A Few Years….

The story describes what is happening in Seattle now that smoking pot is legal.  It is not legal in public, but a frustrated group of police offices are finding it hard to arrest those who are likely not to be prosecuted.

Can we really be surprised?  How far can things be tolerated until people are in danger or businesses suffer?  Apparently pretty far!!  The criminal elements of our society will continue to seek what they can get away with it.  And, a culture/city/country that tolerates this type of behavior is destined to realize their errors. They, of course, may not be able to do anything quickly to remedy the situation, but they will realize the slippery slope they have been riding at some point.

When laws are passed that benefit a “criminal mind” or are ignored in a spirit of “tolerance” and acceptance, the cards are being shuffled and the dealer is preparing to give each player the hand they deserve.

The Guy I Met At Jeff’s Physical Therapy

I met a very nice guy at Jeff’s physical therapy session today.  (Really his only session.  His wrist was doing fine, so they were just doing exercises to make sure it is gaining on the left hand.)  Definitely not an intimidating guy.  He used his wheeled walked and starting coming my direction, so I cleared the chair so he could sit down.  He had a pocket on his walker with a few papers in it.  It was cushioned to keep him from banging any of his aching appendages.

Our dialogue went something like this…

“What are you in for?”
“Bad knee.”
“The one God gave you or a replacement.”
“The original one.”
“That’s good”.  (Me)
“Yes, I have some water on my knee.  And, it needs to be trained and then some PT.”

He then goes on to tell me he has been married nearly 67 years.  That he has been retired since 1987, and he used to be a engineer on the Santa Fe railroad.  His great grand daughter (2 daughters, 6 grandkids, 8 great-grand kids) is a trainer for the Trinity football team–they are in the 3rd week of the football playoffs.  And, he is a WWII veteran of the South Pacific.  Before we are to far in the conversation, he handed me a  religious tract.  I was not offended that he handed me the tract, nor would I have been if I wasn’t a Christian.  If all members of our society could discretely make others aware of their values without worrying about offending them, life would be easier and we would start to be more tolerant as a society.  Right now, it seems the thin-skinned sissies are making the rest of us feel like we are horrible people because we have an opinion that differs from theirs!  I may be a horrible person, but it is not because of my opinions. 😉

My Post Office Friends…

The Ebay business I purchased a few weeks ago has continued to get the sales it seems to have gotten before. My sons and I prep the orders, and we place the items in the USPS Priority Mail boxes. I print the labels and sales receipts and stack them for my trip to the Post Office to mail. Someday, I will be ambitious enough to use my scale and to learn how to do the customs paperwork on-line, but until then, I have my post office friends.

  • There seem to be the regular visitors who check their PO Boxes every morning at about the same time. One man and one woman come specifically to mind here. There is also a gentlemen I see about once a week. He brings a big bin in and walks out with it full–he has one of the BIG PO boxes.
  • There is the fellow Ebay seller. I am not sure what he sells online, but he unloads his “Critter Catcher” truck of 3 to 4 items most every morning. He did give me a piece of advice as to what Post Office in the city always has plenty of Priority Mail boxes available.
  • The staff also has its personalities. Most of them are men, but their are two women. The crankiest of the gentlemen is nice enough, but when you look at him, his body language says, “Cranky”. The ladies are very helpful. When I purchased the business, I was not sure how to best use the “self-help” machine to mail my Priority Mail boxes. She sat over my shoulder and confirmed I was making the right choices. Now, I use the machine most of the time, but I have had a few international orders. So, until I do the online paperwork, I have to use the staff.
  • Truly, the most interesting personality is “Bob” (not his real name). He appears to be a permanently happy man in his early 50s.. He yells “Hello” and “Good Morning” to all he sees. I believe he may even shake hands with some of the staff through his PO box. I have seen him at the gas station next door, and he was getting his donut and coffee and giving all he met the same friendly treatment as his postal friends.

I list the people I see at the post office regularly, but the real focus is on Bob. He may not have been blessed with all I am blessed with, but he is very happy and spreads happiness. Some may be annoyed by his lack of a volume control and others by one of his other challenges, but he is happy and he will certainly be missed when he is gone. Sometimes people don’t remember what big things you did, they just notice how consistent you were while doing it.

I am a pill-swallowing bigot

This is not something I am proud of. And, it is not something I realized was part of my “growing-up” training, but I am a pill-swallowing bigot.

Of course, to clarify, I don’t take lots of pills for pain, addiction, or any other contrived illness. I take a few vitamins every morning (my wife isn’t much of a fish eater, so I have to have the Omega-3), so this is the extent of my pill-popping. I put my vitamins in a weekly plastic container, and I drop all of them in my mouth at one time and swallow them all together. My wife and kids stare in awe…..

My wife coaches the kids, “Put some liquid in your mouth, then drop the pill in. Take in some more liquid, and relax your tongue.”

And, while I can’t disagree with some of her advice, I can’t help but snicker a bit. My advice is more like, “Put the pill in your mouth, and take a drink. Visualize/nudge the pill into the swallowing flow, and just let it go down.”

As the kids practiced with Smarties this morning with the hopes that they will soon be able to swallow their vitamins (graduating from the chewables), I continued to smile and listen to my wife’s coaching. She is better than me at many things, but I can swallow EIGHT pills at one time!!!