someone else’s house

Posted on by August 24, 2014

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We have a really cheap package with Dish Network.

If you called the customer service rep to ask them about it, they couldn’t find it listed on their website.

Nobody knows about it.

It’s a secret.

But….it does exist. I know….because it’s on in the other room right now.

One thing that makes it cheap is that we don’t have a whole bunch of channels.

It’s limited.

It’s limited and cheap.

One of the channels they do give us is HGTV.

We watch the heck out of that channel.

It’s all a bunch of people buying….or fixing….or trying to fix so that they can get rid of….houses.

That’s bizarre how much it holds our attention.

We’re (I’m) like moths getting ready to fly into the candle flame….we can’t turn away.

Now, we have this new property to tear into.

Rip it up, boyeeeeeeee.

There is this one show called “Renovation Realities” that I really like to watch.

It’s all about these incompetent people who bite off more than they can chew and who think that they can complete a kitchen renovation for 500 dollars in the three days of vacation they allotted for the job.

I love that show when I get a chance to see it.

I guess that I identify with semi-competence.

It’s easier, too, to watch the train wreck when it’s someone else’s house that’s getting torn up.

It’s more entertaining when the dust is in someone else’s eyes for a change.

Any electrical work that goes on in that show is pretty entertaining.

I love the part where they look at each other and say, “Just cut it….just cut it. What’s the worst that could happen?” and then things start sparking and the people are dancing around like monkeys in the rubble.

That’s my favorite.

I don’t think that it should be that entertaining for me to watch all these problems that other people have.

I’m kind of like a unsanctioned ambulance chaser….a minor thrill seeker who knows what’s coming and can’t wait to see the carnage.

Any house is a big puzzle. It’s a big box full of pieces that fit together in a logical way and can be moved or taken away if you know what you’re doing.

The real mystery is a house that’s like the box that has two jigsaw puzzles in it (that’s why Jenny counts the pieces before she buys a used puzzle for the kids).

When someone has added things in a way that doesn’t make sense….or you deal with a lifetime of home improvements and “work-arounds”….sometimes it’s like trying to figure out why it’s so hard to put two different puzzles together at the same time.

It’s hard to turn two into one.

Especially when you didn’t count the pieces.

So, anyway….I watch these shows and marvel at the successes and failures that someone else is having with their home project.

And when Monday rolls back around, I gather at the water cooler with the other dudes and say, “Did you see how they took down that popcorn ceiling?!! 15 minutes into the second half?!! I didn’t think they’d be able to pull that one off!!”

Just kidding. That never happens. The dudes don’t pay attention to the sport of renovation.

I do, though….I do.

“Working on a Building” Cowboy Junkies

warm rain and power

Posted on by August 23, 2014

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When we made the transition from “buyer” to “owner“, the previous owners turned the power off at the property we just bought.

That makes all the sense in the world.

I wouldn’t want to pay someone else’s power bill….although it would be a perk if a property we bought came with free electricity for life.

I could really save some money if more things were free.

When I told the guys at work that the power was off now at the new place, one of my co-workers was kind of pessimistic about my chances of getting the juice turned back on.

“YOU’RE SCREWED!! YOU’RE SCREWED!! THAT’S WHAT HAPPENED TO US!! NOW YOU’LL HAVE TO GET ALL SORTS OF INSPECTIONS AND THAT OLD HOUSE WILL NEVER PASS!! YOU ARE SCREWED!!”

It wasn’t painting a very hopeful scenario.

So I called Duke Energy….and when the lady couldn’t find the property in her records, she said that I must be a Progress Duke Energy customer.

When I called Progress Duke Energy, she said that I would be a Duke Energy customer.

So I called Duke Energy again….listened to the menu, pressed what I hoped were the right buttons, and waited.

When the lady came on the line, she listened to what I needed to do, and then tried to look up the new house….and she couldn’t find it.

Finally, she found it under the names of the previous owners.

It turns out that the power company considers the address to be a different one than the address on the survey.

Weird.

So, she gave me power at the address they had on file….and when I went out to the house and flicked the switch….the light came on.

I am so glad that I wasn’t SCREWED.

That would be bad.

It’s been hot here the last couple of days….a late Summer heat wave.

And….the last couple of days have had a little bit of rain.

It’s funny how I let the rain shut the process down for a while.

I must be a little lazy…looking for excuses to lay low and not make myself more tired.

“Rain” works better for that than “wind”.

Nobody would believe that I needed to wait out the wind before I started working outside again.

Just a little bit of rain, too….just enough to moisten everything that I need to chainsaw.

That shouldn’t stop me.

It must be laziness and not the rain.

I am glad that the power situation was easy to take care of.

Conversations like the one I had at work kind of scare me a little….make me think that something’s impossible before I even tried to get it done.

There’s really not a lot that’s “impossible”…especially the “little things”….like getting some electricity.

How old am I going to be before I really take that to heart?

not running

Posted on by August 21, 2014

 

Running

I can hear the sounds of outside from where I sit in the morning to write this blog.

Maybe some cicadas….maybe some peepers….the funky cry of an opossum (?….maybe a raccoon?) ….the rooster….

It sounds like it’s going to make the transition into Fall soon.

It just feels different….like something is going to change.

I used to run in the morning when it was dark and all these sounds surrounded me.

I haven’t run in a while.

It’s easier to quit a good habit than it is to get started again.

And it’s really easy to start again, really.

So….it must be really easy to quit something good.

I don’t have any problem forming a habit of not working at something that takes a little effort.

Easy as pie.

Yesterday, my Jeep passed its yearly inspection….which is probably another story….not a really interesting story….but another one.

It surprised me that it passed.

That makes it a whole lot easier to get it licensed when it passes the inspection.

So….that was my “miracle of the week” ….to go from having the check engine light on….knowing what code it was throwing….expecting it to fail….turning off the light and erasing the codes with my code checker….and then having it pass.

That’s a minor miracle.

Which doesn’t excuse me from knowing that I want to get back out and start running again in the morning.

It’s good to hear those morning sounds before the rest of the people on my road wake up and start driving around.

Quiet….not silent….just quiet.

That’s the kind of environment for me.

I need some peace….all the time.

I listened to an interview with a journalist named Bob Timberg yesterday.

He stepped on a landmine when he was preparing to end his tour of duty in Vietnam…..and was badly damaged by the explosion.

He’s written a book called “Blue Eyed Boy” about his experience and how he survived that horrible experience….and moved beyond to continue his life.

I can’t imagine what he went through.

He talked a little about John McCain….and when he asked him how he could get over his imprisonment as a POW.

I’m quoting from memory….but John McCain said (something like), “I spent time in the military academy, and didn’t like it….I spent 5 1/2 years as a prisoner and didn’t like it. That was enough time spent on that….”

I mangled that quote….but that was the thought, anyway….

I don’t know how to leave things completely behind….but what a lot of wasted time trying to figure out things that have long passed….and none of it was horrific or really hard.

That has nothing to do with running.

What the heck? What am I thinking? I need to drink more coffee.

Maybe what I’m thinking is that we all have the opportunity to take care of what little things we can manage to make our lives better.

I can clean the kitchen….pick up my clothes…change the oil in the jeep….help give the little guys a bath….a million other things.

I can start running again….

Simple.

These little details are going to make or break me.

“Runnin’ Away” Sly and the Family Stone

backwards t-shirt

Posted on by August 20, 2014

james dean t-shirt

Oh….I overslept.

I overslept by a lot….like an hour and a half.

I’m late….the clock and the battery-powered measurer on my wrist tell me that I am behind the place I should be.

I am wrong, somehow.

But it’s really not so different than any other morning…it just means that instead of 45 minutes to write the blog, I have 15 minutes to write the blog.

I get up before everyone else and often dress in the dark….or start dressing in the dark…to try and insure that everyone else stays asleep and it remains quiet in the house.

As long as I know that everyone is safe….and sleeping peacefully….it’s really wonderful to have it quiet in the house.

I love that. It’s not quiet very often, otherwise.

Anyway, I dress in the dark.

This morning, I put my black t-shirt on backwards.

In the darkness, I could feel that it wasn’t right.

It felt “off”.

So I pulled my arms out and spun the t-shirt on my body, put my arms back through….and I was good to go.

I still had to put on my pants….but the t-shirt part of the operation was covered.

That got me thinking….and if I’d been thinking, I would have turned on a little light so that I could see the label, maybe….but what I was thinking is that here you have a piece of clothing that doesn’t have an identifying pocket or any graphics or other way to tell what the “front” is….it pretty much looks the same from the front as it does from the back.

If you put it on….and didn’t know what “right” felt like…you could go your whole life wearing this thing and never know what it felt like to have the t-shirt turned the right way.

If you dress in the dark all the time, you might miss a label that would have clued you in to the “correct” way to wear something as simple as a double-sided t-shirt.

I guess that what I was thinking is that sometimes, until you’re in it, you don’t know that something’s wrong until you know that you better pull back for a second and spin that t-shirt around….until it feels right and you recognize it.

What the heck….15 minutes isn’t long enough.

You can’t write and edit and do all the other necessary things in 15 minutes.

You don’t even have time to spin the t-shirt if something feels wrong.

I’m glad that I know that a wrong t-shirt isn’t forever.

Spin that sucker.

the new apocalypse

Posted on by August 19, 2014

Apocalypse_Now

It must be a sign of the new apocalypse when I get set to start writing another morning’s worth of blog and I realize that I have no new spam from a French pornographer in my comments…..no offers to buy cheap rolexes….no comments like “you have much information that helps me in making better my life! Thankyou for writing with such indepth knowledge!!” (sic)

There wasn’t a single bit of spam this morning.

Now, it could be that all the spammers were raptured and I was left behind to write this blog…but I kind of doubt it.

What purpose would it serve to leave me behind to write this blog?

That’s an unrealistic hypothesis.

I don’t know why I have no spam.

I curse it when it’s the only comments that I get….I curse it.

No….I delete it without cursing.

What would be the point of cursing?

I read it….just in case some weirdo is making an actual comment that only sounds like spam because of the misspellings and weird grammar.

Any actual comment that makes me think that I’m the “best” and to “keep writing” is one I wouldn’t want to delete.

Freaking tricky spammers.

Isaac and I went over to the new property and burned some stuff last night that I’d cut down….trying to get the property cleared up.

We had a big pile of logs that we doused (with water) before we left….going to have to go back tonight and finish the job.

I just realized that it’s a sad thing that I actually know how to spell “apocalypse”.

That’s kind of sad.

Now, I did sit in front of our console stereo when I was a little kid, listening to phonics records and saying “ppppppppppp” and “ttttttttttttt” and “phuhhh” and “puhhhhhh” and weird things like that….just so I could learn to read.

I paid my dues….I should know how to spell.

And I do know how….for the most part.

But “apocalypse” is kind of a different word.

The only way I’d know how to spell that one is if I’d given it some thought.

Why’d I ever give that word a second glance?

What did that ever do for me?

Thinking about “apocalypse”……pshawwwwwwwww…..or “puhhhhhhhh”.

So, I’ll go back and burn tonight…try and finish up the job….and I’ll probably have some more entertaining spam in my comments section tomorrow.

I can’t take the lack of irritation as a sign of the end times.

Sometimes bad things don’t happen for no reason.

building my hope

Posted on by August 18, 2014

Washington Dc reflection

We went to Washington DC for a quick family vacation last week.

That’s a beautiful place….at least the places we let ourselves see.

I suppose that there are some rough areas in the city….but we just went to the museums and the mall.

Not the shopping mall…the big grassy mall.

The big “mall” with all the people.

Now, usually I don’t really like being in big crowds.

I don’t like to be crowded too much…or stand in line for a long time.

But these crowds were interesting.

We sat on a bench by the walking path that surrounds the mall, and I told Jenny, “I think that I heard 5 different languages in the 5 minutes we’ve been sitting here.”

There were so many different people from so many different countries.

It’s amazing that so many people are interested in our country.

It made me more interested in my country to see all the interest from other people from other places.

Some of the places that we tried to go weren’t really “kid friendly”, so we poked our heads in and then decided quickly that it wasn’t a good idea….and left after a quick look around.

It wasn’t worth the discomfort of trying to patiently look at all the great paintings in the National Gallery when little guy….and that’s no typo, just a name to protect the guilty….when “little guy” was pitching a fit about the boring museum.

But I got a good enough look around to realize how peaceful it made me feel to see how much importance people were willing to put into making something beautiful.

These buildings….the galleries and museums, the arboretum, etc…..were really beautiful.

They were really beautiful on a deep, deep level, too.

The materials used and the architecture….everything about them was really pleasant.

I guess that pleasant is a good word.

It was pleasing to me….it brought me pleasure.

It was uplifting for me to be able to see these buildings and the artwork in them.

It was a hopeful sign that people wanted to pay attention to something that was beautiful.

The “makers”….and the “appreciators”….making the world more pleasant.

That’s a good thing.

I guess that wherever you go you can appreciate efforts to make something better….from the really nice tinted concrete floor at the Travelers Rest Wal-Mart to a new countertop at a random McDonalds, there’s room to notice something that’s functional and considered….and I guess “beautiful” in its own way….and appreciate it.

These museums in Washington DC went a little farther than a new countertop, though.

Sometimes I think about how much there is in the world to see.

There are a lot of places and things in the world that are beautiful.

I don’t want my world to shrink in on us.

A trip like that…and the chance to see the beauty collected in a bunch of rooms in an amazing building, even if it’s only a quick glance before a childishly volcanic eruption changes the mood, gives me something to think about until the next time we can “expand our horizons.”

It builds hope.

 

Zoe took the picture….

back to the palace of highest learning

Posted on by August 17, 2014

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We dropped our daughter off at school yesterday.

Of course, when it’s only a 45 minute drive up the road, it’s not as traumatic as if we put her on a boat to China.

But anyplace “out of the house” is “somewhere else”….so we’re missing her a little.

You get used to your children being around.

That’s good.

We pulled up in the parking lot of the school….and she was almost instantly surrounded by friends.

That’s a gratifying thing for a parent to see.

You want to know that your children are going to be able to hang around with people they enjoy.

It’s good to see that they have a life that’s separate from us.

That’s part of “leaving the nest”, you know?

Sparrow is in the next room, getting her diaper changed… and yelling.

She has a diaper with little skulls on it that she always picks out of the stack.

I don’t know why she gravitates towards that one.

She’s asked about a good tattoo….but Jenny and I think that she’s too young for that.

For now, a diaper with some skulls will have to be as far as she takes the “baby rebel” thing.

So we’re catching the parenting thing from both sides….little and totally dependent ones….and older ones who are spreading their wings and seeing how it feels to fly.

That should keep us busy for a while.

Like that Chinese proverb says…. I wonder which of us prayed for interesting times?

I go back to work tomorrow after two weeks off.

I wonder if I’ll remember how to open the mailboxes?

Zoe’s back at school.

That was a pretty seamless transition….it’s getting easier to drop her off.

Who knows what will happen next?

“Wildflower” Skylark

This is a great song….but except for the part about being a “free and gentle flower”, well….no trauma here. Zoe’s a little flower….

Photo by Zoe Rorvig

He’s Not Norwegian

Posted on by August 16, 2014

I’m Norwegian.

I thought that I’d write something about Norway this morning.

I’ve never been to Norway…and I don’t speak the language.

I don’t know why I can even claim to be Norwegian.

It’s an accident of birth that I can claim that….but I’m proud that I can.

So….I was going to write about Norway….and all of a sudden, here I am….writing about a great song that Colin Hay performed and wrote.

I found a version of “Norwegian Wood” that he did….and listened to it….and decided not to include it in the blog.

But I found this one instead.

I love this song.

Now, of course, he’s kind of ….what’s the word? Ribald? Does that work? He’s kind of “naughty” in the introduction to the song.

He uses the “F” word pretty often….but he uses it with a Scottish accent so I guess he can pull it off.

It sounds softer with a Scottish accent somehow.

If the name “Colin Hay” sounds familiar….or the voice sounds familiar…he was in a band called “Men Without Hats” that had a couple of hits in the 1980’s.

So….like I said earlier….this is a great song.

I love this song.

And the guy isn’t even Norwegian.

Here’s another one by Colin Hay….I don’t know if I’ll ever have another reason to share any of his music….

anger over loss

Posted on by August 15, 2014

Robin-Williams-died

Robin Williams died while we were on vacation.

What the heck.

Sometimes, you take for granted the people who have been around forever.

It’s been a long time since I first laughed at Mork.

I had a long time to settle into the idea that Robin Williams was going to be around for a while….and I stopped paying close attention to his existence.

What’s strange to me is how many people are using his death to politicize….or philosophize…or even GET ANGRY OVER (with each other, mostly….some funny/strange comments floating around out there) his passing.

Here’s the real issue:  This guy….this funny, manic, driven by “whatever demons birth comedy” guy…this guy who always seemed to be “on”, no matter the situation….had something that made him so sad and hopeless that he ended “being”.

It wasn’t heroic or anything….it was just something that he must have considered for a while….or maybe not, maybe it was just a quick decision, I don’t know….anyway, he ended this part of his life and left behind the people and parts of his life that he loved.

It wasn’t a political statement….

It wasn’t caused by something that should be debated without end….

We can’t sit here….breathing, and for the most part, at least, approaching happiness….and pass judgement on what makes anyone decide that the best option for fixing the problem is to just stop….just stop “being”.

Now, it turns out that he had the early stages of Parkinson’s Disease going on.

Illness isn’t a license to kill yourself…but what is? And who needs a license anyway?

We live…and hope for something good to fill us up a little….get all of us over whatever speed bumps we come up against….give us enough hope to realize that it’s all changing every second…that nothing sad can be completely “forever”.

There’s hope that we ignore when depression fuels our sadness so completely.

Most of the anger that I mentioned earlier doesn’t even seem to be directed Robin Williams’ way.

Most of it seems to be anger over differences we all seem to have over the “spiritual consequences” of suicide…or the political environment and how it contributes to suicide (!)….or any weird personal side issues that can refocus and distract our attention from the sad issue at hand.

I think that sometimes we just like to hear ourselves talk.

Robin Williams was a funny, funny man.

He was sad…probably about a number of things….and the manic desperation….the comedy….the working out the problems using the swirling tornado of thought that seemed to be always with him…was the way of coping with the sadness that we never could look behind.

We couldn’t get beyond who we saw in front of us….making us laugh.

We needed him to be what we thought he was.

I hope he had some people in his life who he didn’t have to be funny with.