Eventful week. I took some time off work Monday through Wednesday to visit Gramma Jo before she died. We missed her by a day.
So we ended up just getting stuff done during those days. El Kiddo had his second birthday on Monday. We had not anticipated being home for his birthday, so we had no plans for a party. Just before we were set to finish making the cake (a cool volcano cake with dinosaurs on it), some neighbor kids came over to play. We invited them to stay, and called over other neighbor children. We had an impromptu party with so many people in attendance that we didn’t even have room for everyone. That was fun.
We took the trip to see Gramma Friday through Sunday instead. Of course, we only saw her ashes. We drove across the state Friday and stayed with wonderful friends that night. Thanks, Chicken Kurt and Suzanne! We had a great time there. Then we went the rest of the way to Weiser, Idaho (near the Oregon border) for the memorial service Saturday.
My dad is the only one of Gramma’s 4 children who is active in the LDS church. Gramma herself was inactive most of the time I knew her. Then one day, after her husband’s death, she decided it was time to turn that around. She worked hard to stop smoking and start living the gospel. Church leaders, home teachers, visiting teachers, and family members prayed faithfully for her and encouraged her. I’ll never forget the day she returned to the temple with us. Oh happy day!
Gramma Jo had health problems for many years before her death. She suffered long and hard. I’m so glad she can finally rest. I hope I was able to adequately express my thanks to her good bishop who was also her home teacher for many years. The man gave many hours of selfless service and went out of his way to help Gramma. He truly understood his Aaronic Priesthood duty to watch over the widows.
It was good to attend her memorial service in a chapel full of mostly non-religious people. I sang with my wife and brothers a couple of songs that she requested—How Great Thou Art and “You’ll Never Walk Alone.”
We stayed Saturday night with ElGirlo’s cousin and her husband in Boise. We had other cousins over and had a great time playing games long into the night. After attending Sacrament meeting Sunday morning at Cousin’s ward, we went home. It’s good to be home.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Thursday, April 10, 2008
School
ElBoyo started High School this week. Exceptionally bright 4-year-old? I think so. But that’s not why he’s attending ElTowno High School 3 times a week. The child development course offers a 5-week preschool for five dollars. Five weeks. Five bucks. Regular price, five bucks, five bucks.
ElBoyo was excited and scared his first day, Tuesday. He knew the neighbor girl would be there, but he was afraid someone else would sit by her. (I think he has a thing for the neighbor girl. Hey, who can blame him? She’s a cutie!)
He got there, and to his delight, practically the whole neighborhood turned out. All his friends from church were there. This is good, because now ElGirlo can carpool the kids to preschool.
ElBoyo had a ball (literally, they played with balls in the gym). He thinks he’s so cool now that he goes to school. I agree, but I wouldn’t dare tell him that! The pressures of High School are bad enough without him getting a big head!
ElBoyo was excited and scared his first day, Tuesday. He knew the neighbor girl would be there, but he was afraid someone else would sit by her. (I think he has a thing for the neighbor girl. Hey, who can blame him? She’s a cutie!)
He got there, and to his delight, practically the whole neighborhood turned out. All his friends from church were there. This is good, because now ElGirlo can carpool the kids to preschool.
ElBoyo had a ball (literally, they played with balls in the gym). He thinks he’s so cool now that he goes to school. I agree, but I wouldn’t dare tell him that! The pressures of High School are bad enough without him getting a big head!
Friday, April 4, 2008
The Kite Runner (#1, Pastime Series)
Balloons flying
Children sighing
What a day to go kite flying
Breeze is cool
Away from school
Cowboys fighting out a duel
Time seems to stand quite still
In a child's world it always will
-Moody Blues
I read a short story a few years ago by W Somerset Maugham. It was about a boy who went to the park each Sunday and flew kites with his parents. He got to be pretty good. It became such an obsession that when he grew up and married, it interfered with his marital relationship. I recently read The Kite Runner. That was about a boy who was so obsessed with flying kites that he sacrificed his dignity and integrity to win a kite running contest. I am not that obsessed with kite flying. Thank heavens. In fact, it’s something that I do very casually. I only write about it first in my pastime series because it’s been on my mind recently. What can I say? I have spring fever.
ElGirlo and I bought a really cool kite several years ago. It has no frame. I can just roll it up and put it in my pocket. And it flies pretty well. The thing I love most about flying it is seeing ElBoyo and ElKiddo get so excited as it becomes just a dot in the sky. Once, we even saw an airplane fly below the kite. That’s fun. What’s not fun is reeling the kite in. That’s work. I found a solution.
I rigged up a spool holder on my cordless drill. It does most of the work for me. It reels that kite in pretty fast. That’s important when you have the kind of wind we have here in Idaho. It lifts you up, and never lets you down. We had such a wind 2 years ago when ElGirlo was expecting ElKiddo. ElBoyo and I dropped ElGirlo off at the ObGyn, and then went to the nearby park to catch a breeze. The idea was for ElGirlo to call us when she was done. I let the kite out halfway to heaven, tied it to a post, and ElBoyo and I played together.
Pretty soon, we saw ElGirlo coming our way. Walking. She was approaching her due date, so I became a bit nervous and started reeling the kite in. It took forever! The wind was ElStrongo! When ElGirlo approached, she told us that the doctor said she could have the baby any minute. She had tried to call, but my dumb cell phone didn’t ring. So, she decided to walk. It might help her go into labor, anyway. It did.
I couldn’t reel that kite in fast enough! Thank the winds of fortune the labor was a false alarm. That’s the day I invented the drill spool.
I noticed this week in the store that we are selling an 8 foot kite. Looks wicked bad. I wonder how high it will go before it becomes a dot in the sky?
Children sighing
What a day to go kite flying
Breeze is cool
Away from school
Cowboys fighting out a duel
Time seems to stand quite still
In a child's world it always will
-Moody Blues
I read a short story a few years ago by W Somerset Maugham. It was about a boy who went to the park each Sunday and flew kites with his parents. He got to be pretty good. It became such an obsession that when he grew up and married, it interfered with his marital relationship. I recently read The Kite Runner. That was about a boy who was so obsessed with flying kites that he sacrificed his dignity and integrity to win a kite running contest. I am not that obsessed with kite flying. Thank heavens. In fact, it’s something that I do very casually. I only write about it first in my pastime series because it’s been on my mind recently. What can I say? I have spring fever.
ElGirlo and I bought a really cool kite several years ago. It has no frame. I can just roll it up and put it in my pocket. And it flies pretty well. The thing I love most about flying it is seeing ElBoyo and ElKiddo get so excited as it becomes just a dot in the sky. Once, we even saw an airplane fly below the kite. That’s fun. What’s not fun is reeling the kite in. That’s work. I found a solution.
I rigged up a spool holder on my cordless drill. It does most of the work for me. It reels that kite in pretty fast. That’s important when you have the kind of wind we have here in Idaho. It lifts you up, and never lets you down. We had such a wind 2 years ago when ElGirlo was expecting ElKiddo. ElBoyo and I dropped ElGirlo off at the ObGyn, and then went to the nearby park to catch a breeze. The idea was for ElGirlo to call us when she was done. I let the kite out halfway to heaven, tied it to a post, and ElBoyo and I played together.
Pretty soon, we saw ElGirlo coming our way. Walking. She was approaching her due date, so I became a bit nervous and started reeling the kite in. It took forever! The wind was ElStrongo! When ElGirlo approached, she told us that the doctor said she could have the baby any minute. She had tried to call, but my dumb cell phone didn’t ring. So, she decided to walk. It might help her go into labor, anyway. It did.
I couldn’t reel that kite in fast enough! Thank the winds of fortune the labor was a false alarm. That’s the day I invented the drill spool.
I noticed this week in the store that we are selling an 8 foot kite. Looks wicked bad. I wonder how high it will go before it becomes a dot in the sky?
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Hobbies
I don’t particularly enjoy work. You could call me lazy. Frankly, you could call me a lot of things. I prefer “recreationally inclined.” Not that I’m work averse. I recognize the matchless value of work. It builds character, secures society’s infrastructure, strengthens individuals, and yields an invaluable sense of satisfaction. You can’t get anything done without working. I just don’t like to.
I think I first realized my distaste for work when I was very young. I was assigned the cardinal chores that all kids born of goodly parents are given—taking out the trash, vacuuming, doing the dishes, cleaning the toilets (this was my least favorite), and so forth. I also had the blithesome opportunity to help my real estate-attached parents clean up their sordid rentals after disreputable tenants moved out. Often this occurred after a distressful eviction. Mom & Dad’s tenants often left enough trash behind to turn the apartments into something that resembled the city dump. The leftover odors alone could bring tears to the eyes and bile to the kisser. For 5-year-old me, this was a traumatizing experience.
I don’t blame my parents. In fact, I really respect them. They did their best to teach me the value of hard work. They were—and are—very hard-working people. To hear them tell it, they worked much harder than I did when they were young. They even had to walk barefoot 3 uphill miles in deep snow each day to and from child-labor sweatshops where they worked 18 hours a day for a nickel a week. This nickel could either buy a head of cabbage or a ticket to the movies. Of course, they had families to feed, so cabbage got preference. This, too, was very traumatizing for 5-year-olds, but they lived in an age when people kept stiff upper lips. I guess I’m just a wimp.
Incidentally, wimpiness is the kind of thing one has to admit to when one is exertionally challenged. If one doesn’t admit to such things, one creates more work for oneself. Allow me to explain. Imagine if you will that the lawn needs a good trim. (This is not a problem at my home, as I figure putting in a lawn is way too much work.) A recreationally inclined person, such as myself, would rather be fishing. Naturally, the novice would begin immediately by making excuses. This is a big no-no. Coming up with good excuses is hard work. What’s more, an inexperienced or careless excuse-maker might cause more work for himself by actually fulfilling the excuses. It is so much easier to simply concede, “Oh well, I guess I’m just a wimp.” Let the fishing begin! (Note: This is less effective when a wife is present.)
In all seriousness, I believe in hard work…when I have to…I guess. Sometimes, I even take work seriously—a little too seriously. This is why I have hobbies. Hobbies take the edge off (and when you have as many rough edges as I do, this is a very desirable thing). My problem is I have a few too many hobbies. (I just took up blogging.) I just love having fun too much. Ok, that was a joke; nobody can have too much fun. But my diversions divert each other, and I can’t seem to master anything. Having so many hobbies is expensive and time-consuming, but who’s complaining? I love my hobbies.
Since hobbies are a major part of who I am, I’ve decided to blog a series entitled, “pastimes.” Each blog entry in the series will highlight something I enjoy doing, or perhaps something I wish I could enjoy doing. I hope you enjoy reading.
I think I first realized my distaste for work when I was very young. I was assigned the cardinal chores that all kids born of goodly parents are given—taking out the trash, vacuuming, doing the dishes, cleaning the toilets (this was my least favorite), and so forth. I also had the blithesome opportunity to help my real estate-attached parents clean up their sordid rentals after disreputable tenants moved out. Often this occurred after a distressful eviction. Mom & Dad’s tenants often left enough trash behind to turn the apartments into something that resembled the city dump. The leftover odors alone could bring tears to the eyes and bile to the kisser. For 5-year-old me, this was a traumatizing experience.
I don’t blame my parents. In fact, I really respect them. They did their best to teach me the value of hard work. They were—and are—very hard-working people. To hear them tell it, they worked much harder than I did when they were young. They even had to walk barefoot 3 uphill miles in deep snow each day to and from child-labor sweatshops where they worked 18 hours a day for a nickel a week. This nickel could either buy a head of cabbage or a ticket to the movies. Of course, they had families to feed, so cabbage got preference. This, too, was very traumatizing for 5-year-olds, but they lived in an age when people kept stiff upper lips. I guess I’m just a wimp.
Incidentally, wimpiness is the kind of thing one has to admit to when one is exertionally challenged. If one doesn’t admit to such things, one creates more work for oneself. Allow me to explain. Imagine if you will that the lawn needs a good trim. (This is not a problem at my home, as I figure putting in a lawn is way too much work.) A recreationally inclined person, such as myself, would rather be fishing. Naturally, the novice would begin immediately by making excuses. This is a big no-no. Coming up with good excuses is hard work. What’s more, an inexperienced or careless excuse-maker might cause more work for himself by actually fulfilling the excuses. It is so much easier to simply concede, “Oh well, I guess I’m just a wimp.” Let the fishing begin! (Note: This is less effective when a wife is present.)
In all seriousness, I believe in hard work…when I have to…I guess. Sometimes, I even take work seriously—a little too seriously. This is why I have hobbies. Hobbies take the edge off (and when you have as many rough edges as I do, this is a very desirable thing). My problem is I have a few too many hobbies. (I just took up blogging.) I just love having fun too much. Ok, that was a joke; nobody can have too much fun. But my diversions divert each other, and I can’t seem to master anything. Having so many hobbies is expensive and time-consuming, but who’s complaining? I love my hobbies.
Since hobbies are a major part of who I am, I’ve decided to blog a series entitled, “pastimes.” Each blog entry in the series will highlight something I enjoy doing, or perhaps something I wish I could enjoy doing. I hope you enjoy reading.
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