let the rooster crow….

Posted on by July 14, 2014

Let the rooster crow….I can’t hear a word he’s saying.

Dang oversleep stuff.

It’s not the oversleep….it’s the undersleep in the middle of the night that causes the problem.

Sparrow has a fever….so Jenny was up a lot in the night trying to help her feel better….and I was up some trying to help her….help her.

So, I think that I got more sleep than Jenny got.

I got more….but I didn’t get enough.

The oversleep is just a condition of the undersleep.

Call me Sherlock…I’ve got it figured out.

It’s pretty nerve-wracking when your children aren’t feeling well….especially the little pre-verbal ones.

I hope Sparrow feels better this morning….

It’s hard to tell what’s going on when they get feverish like that.

I took my Father-in-Law up to the land we’re in the process of buying yesterday… and it was still there.

Sometimes I feel like just staying the course and avoiding even looking at the limb I’m going to be climbing out on soon.

It’s so easy to have a little bit of extra money.

That’s something that we were just, uncharacteristically, getting used to.

You don’t have to think very fast on your feet when you have some money to make some of the problems go away.

It’s easy as pie to make that happen when you can buy your way out of a problem.

And now, I’m going to give all our money away so we can buy a chunk of dirt and a little bit of a big pond.

What am I thinking?

Don’t take chances!! Save your pennies!!

What the heck….just go for it.

The worst that can happen is that I’ll fall down an abandoned well that I didn’t know about.

I could fall down an abandoned well and not have the money to hire a man with a crane to pull me back up from the depths.

What?!! The fire department might get me out for free? It wouldn’t cost me anything to be saved?

What the heck am I worried about?

It’s covered.

I guess that’s what they call “cold feet”.

A “master of high finance”….a “real estate magnate”….that’s me.

I should just read a couple of Donald Trump books and warm up my check writing hand…..and then buy all sorts of crazy rural land.

I’ve got to go slam down some breakfast cereal and then get on to work.

Stupid rooster.

P1010395

Check out this picture. It looks like we can add 2 more bathrooms if we wanted to in the little house.

It could be a 3 bathroom, 2 bedroom house.

That’s what people are looking for, right?

the seep

Posted on by July 13, 2014

I guess that sometimes when I think of a “stream of consciousness”, I imagine a rushing river of thought and imagination.

It’s powerful….unstoppable…the kind of brain power that carves great canyons out of solid ground….that fills oceans.

A person could really float a boat on a stream of consciousness like that.

When I take a closer look, though, it’s usually just a trickle….a “seep”….a wet place on muddy ground that someone is going to have to clean off his boots later.

No need to feel bad, though…that little seep can fill a cistern if you develop it a little and then leave it alone…..and then the cistern can help quench the thirst of a whole village.

It only ever has to be a trickle to do good things.

But I look at the giant body of water and can’t get around how small that trickle seems in comparison.

It’s inconsequential.

It doesn’t matter.

It’s not a grand river.

It’s something that no one would notice if they didn’t trip over it.

It has no power that I can see at first glance.

The stream….you never know where that flow is going to go.

We had some pounding rains here in the last couple of days…and I noticed that I’m going to have to go get another load of crusher run to fill in the ruts that the deluge left behind.

Water can do some strong damage.

It can be a violent thing.

A lot of water, channeled in the wrong direction, if it’s allowed to continue its path, can just mess up stuff like you wouldn’t believe.

It will make a road impassable….rut it out so it can’t be used again until it’s repaired.

You can’t retreat sometimes after a bad storm.

You cannot go back after the damage has been done.

That’s no great revelation…..that’s what water does…carries or destroys…or sometimes carries while it’s destroying.

It’s no secret that it can have some power….and that it has a mind of its own.

That trickle….given some time…makes a grand canyon. It might even make the Grand Canyon.

These thoughts….these tiny streams…I guess that they can have power, too.

These thoughts can build or they can destroy….and if they’re the wrong kind of thoughts, it really doesn’t take a deluge to do the damage, either.

A trickle of bad can wear away the good around it….can wear it all away until all that you can see is the devastation left behind.

But one small good thought can have the same kind of profound effect.

You can build a paradise on one small thought if it’s the right one….if it’s the right kind of thought.

You can change the world with the right kind of thought….backed up with even a little bit of action.

A “stream of consciousness” goes where it will.

It picks up what it finds along its way and carries it all the way to the end.

Seep….or tsunami…it doesn’t matter in its conclusion.

Somebody…….somewhere….is going to get wet.

 

 

nocturnal ratio

Posted on by July 12, 2014

P1170416

When I sleep in it really confuses me.

I’m never sure if everyone else in the house is going to sleep in correspondingly late.

I can’t count on that.

So, it’s kind of a wild card as to what is going to happen.

Sparrow was up last night.

Not up screaming or distressed…just up and laughing and crawling around on the bed.

She was kind of playing a game of human bumper car….bouncing into the barrier that Jenny and I formed on either side of her.

All night long….hyper and happy.

So, we stayed up some and I slept in this morning.

Of course, Jenny stayed up the lions share of the time so she is still sleeping with Sparrow….and everyone else in the house is still asleep, too.

(I can always count on the teenagers to sleep….Nate’s the wild card…I expect him up any second so I’m typing fast to try and finish before that happens….)

Jenny’s sister just had another child, so we went up to Asheville yesterday to meet Charlie….and to spend some time with her sister’s family and with Jenny’s parents, who were in town to meet the two new babies.

We’ve had 7 months to get used to Sparrow being around….but it’s always interesting to see these really little brand new babies and to know that there is a real person lying there in “Momma’s” arms…..and soon that new little person is going to be crawling around and making his or her needs apparent.

I guess that’s something that we get good at pretty quickly.

They don’t have to be crawling for that to happen.

Babies just yell their heads off.

Luckily, we’re all pretty good at making our needs clear.

I think that we were tired when we got home.

How else can I explain sleeping until 7?

Ahhhhh…..I hear Nate getting up…padding out…yelling at me to “Just GO AWAY!!!!” when I tell him he can’t wake Mommy up.

Wheeeeeeeee!

That’s what I’m talking about!

The “game changer” has arrived and announced his presence.

“Release the KRAKEN!!”

Oh, man….he just went into the bedroom when he heard Sparrow wake up.

Oh, dang….now I might be in trouble for not being an effective gatekeeper.

Dang.

Here’s something to ponder….something that just crossed my mind.

When someone says that they are a “self-made man”, do they discount the time they spent in their mother’s arms….the time they spent with their parents….or is that just such a typically expected situation that it’s not even considered part of the process of becoming a “success”?

Looking at these new babies….one really new….it’s impossible not to notice that it’s pretty darn important to be a part of that Mother/Child equation.

“Self-Made Man”?

How do you do that? Even an earthworm can’t be a “self-made man”.

Everybody is up now…everyone except for the teenagers barricaded in their rooms.

I don’t know that there is such a thing as a “nocturnal ratio”….me sleeping in doesn’t mean that anyone else sleeps in more. I am not protected like that.

There is no insurance policy against the random events of childhood.

No matter how consistent those random events are.

“Deep Dark and Dreamless” Souther Hillman Furay Band

 

 

the best place to be

Posted on by July 11, 2014

I remember sitting in a Bruce Springsteen concert and wishing I was somewhere else.

How messed up is that?

It was a passing thing….I got over it by the next song and I was back….but for a moment I got caught up in missing someplace that I thought was worth missing….and I was lost.

I’ve spent some good parts of my life behaving like that….drumming up remorse that I wasn’t “someplace else”.

And in the process of “missing”….I think that I probably missed a lot of things.

For the most part, I think that was kind of a lonely young man’s game.

I don’t do that anymore.

Now, I will look up videos about Idaho when I’m hunting and pecking….scraping my brain….for a blog topic.

I don’t think that Idaho is a Shangri-la or anything.

It’s not a place that I need to go to before I can be happy.

I’m very happy here…in this moment.

I am a contented man.

That’s not to say that pictures of gypsy caravans and nomads don’t make me want to pack it all up and hit the road.

I love to wake up in strange places.

I love to look out the window and see some strange bird fly by in the fog.

I love to hear a different ocean when I wake up.

I love to travel.

Maybe travelling gives me an excuse not to long for someplace “away” for a while?

All this travel talk….travel…away….and I know that the best place to be is wherever my family is.

That takes all of the hard decisions out of the equation.

“Where my family is”….an easy answer to an itchy question.

And my family is a sail….not an anchor.

My perception of what money I have or don’t have is a strong mental anchor.

I don’t want to be panhandling for gas and cracker money somewhere in Utah while a bunch of little eyes look out of the window of the Grand Caravan (and doesn’t just the name of that vehicle make you think of taking off and driving through some big desert….meeting the bedouins and having some hummus and dates on a Persian carpet?)….what was I saying? Oh….a bunch of little eyes look out at me and wait for me to make us all mobile again.

I guess I get scared of running out of anything.

Money….gas….love….time…

I don’t want to run out of anything.

And the safest way to do that is to zip up the change purse and save, save, save.

And while I’m saving…I can bitch about wanting to be somewhere else….and how, at some perfect point in our lives, I’ll release the deluge of funds and….we’ll really have some fun.

Maybe the “best place to be” is right HERE.

BE HERE NOW….here….without fear…until I travel a couple of thousand miles and I’m HERE again….just in a different place.

Like I said earlier, though….the unit is what’s important….the family.

Where they are is where I’ll be.

Anyplace is good if I can hear them in the next room….

 

 

the jump

Posted on by July 10, 2014

GRANDCANYON

There is a Grand Canyon width divide between how it feels to get up on a cool North Carolina morning, pad quietly down to the kitchen to make some coffee and take my vitamins with half a coffee cup of orange juice, then go back upstairs to write this blog while everyone sleeps and dreams the dreams of angels….and getting up really early because Nate is climbing into the bed and Sparrow needs to eat some prunes so that she can….well, whatever she hasn’t done in three days and needs to do because her stomach is bothering her….and Jenny can’t sleep because of all the commotion….and….

There is a difference.

It is a subtle difference….I can feel it in the air, somehow….but I know that it’s there.

I would miss the heck out of it if it wasn’t here to get under my skin.

All of these things that feel as if we won’t survive them now…..I would miss them.

There sure is a difference in how the morning feels with the cartoons cranked up in a formerly quiet house…and activity hitting the fan at 5:00 in the morning… instead of a solitary quiet Norwegian slapping plastic keys and sipping his coffee.

Maybe it’s a question of access.

Nate came into our room sometime early this morning….and I heard Jenny ask…surprised at 4:45…”Where did you come from?” when she discovered him in the bed that was already crowded with 3 people in it.

You have to be fast on your feet when you’re trying to sleep, sometimes.

If we locked the door, he’d just be banging on it at 4:45 instead of us having the chance to discover him crowded in next to us.

It’s probably a potentially less jarring conclusion to just let him quietly insinuate himself between us than to have him pounding on anything that early.

I can’t lock any of these guys out.

That won’t work.

And I sure can’t drug them.

That’s illegal and morally reprehensible.

So…I guess we’ll just have to live with the surprises that come with having another batch of really little children late in life.

“Late in life”…..I’m considering this really early middle age.

It’s not late in life….not even close.

No matter how tired I get….I’ve still got a healthy dose of mojo going on.

We’re going to make it, man!! The other option is too unappealing to go in that direction.

So I make the “jump”….I work at remembering how all these gifts play out in real time….that a little bit of roughness doesn’t mean that the whole road is hard to travel…that there’ll be “time enough for counting…when the dealin’s done…” (in the immortal….immortal?….words of Kenny Loggins Rankin Rogers.

We don’t pass through more than once.

To the best of my limited understanding and knowledge, that’s something I’ve come to believe.

It’s a one go round ferris wheel….er, merry-go-round.

So let these early mornings come…we’ll just make some coffee and ruminate on what it feels like to get a good night’s sleep….and when the good night comes, we’ll appreciate it all the more for the early,early mornings we remember.

I remember sleep…..still.

“The Gambler” Kenny Loggins Rankin Rogers!

scratching the air

Posted on by July 9, 2014

I guess that I don’t see really well in the dark.

I got up an hour earlier than I meant to.

I did press the button to make my watch light up (when I was still in bed)….and I was sure that it said 5:00…but when I got up, and rinsed my face off, I must have washed some funk out of my eyes or something because when I looked at the big clock on the wall, it said 4:00.

Dang.

I hate it when that happens.

It is quiet in the morning….so it’s not a bad thing to be up early….but it’s a shock to the system to realize I was so off base.

The funny thing about it was that until I knew that I’d seen the wrong time…I didn’t feel very tired.

I was in the groove….right on schedule…disciplined and motivated…a man of action with goals to achieve.

The minute that I found out that I’d gotten up an hour earlier than I meant to, I felt like a guy who couldn’t read a digital watch.

There’s a big gap between the two feelings.

And…strangely enough…I felt more tired almost instantly.

Until I knew what time it was and how I was supposed to feel….I didn’t really feel tired.

Our heads are funny things….all that perception and stuff can mess you up.

And then I started thinking about how I feel when I wave back at someone who I think is waving at me, all the time wondering, “Who the heck is that?!”….and then I look around and realize that they were waving at one of their friends who was standing behind me.

I can’t pretend that I was just scratching the air… or something close to that.

I can’t take back a misplaced wave.

Once it’s out of the bottle…it’s out.

There’s nothing I can do at that point.

But…until I knew that it wasn’t me that any of the friendliness was aimed at, I probably felt that the world was a really welcoming place.

“Imagine….my luck at seeing an old friend who I must not remember?! WHAT A LIFE!!”

I would be better off going with that first impression…instead of arriving at the conclusion that I was just a dork with his arm in the air.

I don’t know what I was thinking.

Weird thoughts at 4:00 in the morning.

I guess that what I was thinking is that the way we perceive things is the only real power we can generate on this Earth.

It really is a make or break kind of skill.

Hope or despair…possibility or impossiblilty….love or disinterest….it all gets set in motion by what we think that we see….by what we think that we are.

I guess that we’re either waving….or pretending to scratch the air.

Maybe I should just wave the heck out of my next misplaced wave…..let the other guy wonder, “Look at that dude waving….he acts like he knows me. Does he? Does he know me?! Why can’t I remember him? What’s wrong with me?! Why can’t I remember?”

Just “pass the buck” and let the other guy feel the awkwardness.

That’s not really very kind …but what act of self-protection is ever very kind?

I’ve got to live, too….you know?

just my ‘magination

Posted on by July 8, 2014

I listen to music all day while I’m driving.

I bought a Sirius radio…so I have a lot of options to listen to….and one of the stations that I was listening to for a while is one that features old “soul” music.

Now, it may be “old soul” music….but I’m not really qualified to make that judgement call….and I don’t think that it applies in all cases…so for now, I guess that I’ll have to go with old “soul” music, instead.

One of the bands that they play fairly often is Gladys Knight and the Pips.

Gladys+Knight++The+Pips+knight

Now, I know a lot of their music.

I love that stuff.

It is some soulful music.

But if all you knew of Gladys Knight and the Pips were some of the famous ballads….like “Midnight Train to Georgia” or “Neither One of Us”…you don’t really know what I think this band was about.

Good grief, they rocked HARD.

They were a major funky band.

Listen to this one….

 

“I’ve Got to Use My Imagination” Gladys Knight and the Pips

or maybe…..

this one.

“On and On” Gladys Knight and the Pips

I’m looking at all of their back catalog as I write this….and so much of it was ballads.

I guess that you go with what you know.

Gladys Knight has an amazingly expressive voice.

I think that she could probably sing just about anything….but except for a couple of songs that became standards on the radio, I don’t hear much of it anymore.

I used to really love this song when it came out…still do….

“Daddy Could Swear, I Declare” Gladys Knight and the Pips

I guess that when you do something really well….like all those ballads….the funky stuff gets pushed to the back a little….but this band was so good at so much.

And…who the heck was that bass player?  Was it the same guy on most of these recordings? He was freaking great.

I guess that I was just appreciating what these guys did.

All of this music is just floating out there somewhere, anyway….just pushed out into the universe for us to enjoy at our leisure.

Here’s one more song and then I’ll stop….maybe a ballad this time because that’s what the bulk of the catalog seems to be.

“If I Were Your Woman” Gladys Knight and the Pips

This is all so good.

All these kids who grew up in church singing gospel…I imagine that’s Gladys’ background….approach this music from such a deep place.

There is something really spiritual behind this stuff…residual spirituality that must permeate on a deep down level….molecular level….that comes out when they sing.

Mavis Staples is another one who seems to have that going on….

Man….I love this stuff.

“Soul” music?

I guess that it must be.

Good music, for sure.

band-aids

Posted on by July 7, 2014

pokemon bandaids

My son, Nate, hurt his finger yesterday.

When I say “hurt”, I don’t mean that he got his finger caught in some giant smasher…or grinder….or anything horrible like that.

That’s horrible….I shouldn’t have even written that…..

He hurt the very tip of his pinky finger, somehow.

I think that he scraped it a little bit jumping off of the porch railing.

It was hurt….but you couldn’t see the damage, even if you looked really closely.

But he wanted a band-aid, so we put one on it.

I don’t know what kind of band-aid it was….maybe a superhero one….or one with Pokemon on it.

I’m not sure.

Nate had his band-aid and felt better about the situation.

It wasn’t an “OWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE” any more.

Over the course of the evening, we must have put 10 band-aids on that former “oweeeeeeeeeeeeee”, though.

What seemed to happen was that the band-aid’s mojo was only effective when the band-aid stayed on Nate’s finger.

At least, that’s what Nate told me.

Something about the “efficacy”….whatever that means.

I’m kidding….Nate didn’t say “mojo” or “efficacy”….I’m only kidding.

So when the comfort provided by the band-aid allowed Nate to resume wild play, the band-aid would fall off and the “oweeeeeeeeee” was revealed again.

And that’s why we needed 10 band-aids over the course of the evening.

The evening was coursing by….and the band-aid box was getting lighter and lighter.

We survived, though.

This morning, I suspect that Nate won’t even remember needing all those band-aids.

When I got up this morning, I was thinking about those band-aids, though.

I was thinking about only needing something unnecessary when I noticed that it was gone.

I was thinking about creating a need or a habit that sticks around a lot longer than the original “pain”…that I look at everyday and am comforted by whatever “band-aid” I’ve created to buy myself some relief, that I forget about until the figurative band-aid falls off again and I go running back to the figurative band-aid box for some new cover-up.

I’m not full of angst.

For the most part, I’m a pretty happy guy…now.

I’ve had my moments of prolonged sadness and confusion….loneliness….and I’m probably not alone in those feelings.

The sad part makes the good part….good, though.

And….I’m pretty happy now.

And, you know, it could have been that Nate just wanted a new Pokemon on his finger every chance that he got to get one.

He’s a pretty crafty little guy….maybe it was just a clever ruse to get some new Pikachu  action going….maybe the finger was just a cover-up for a way to get some new cool band-aid more often than Daddy would have allowed otherwise?

I don’t really know.

Who knows the hearts of men?

Who knows what lengths they will go to trying to support a heavy Pokemon band-aid habit?

I guess that the thing that was funny about it all is that Nate didn’t have any idea that his finger was still in great pain …..the kind of pain that demands multiple Pikachu applications….until he noticed that the band-aid was gone.

That darn band-aid….can’t live without it.

And you sure can’t help but notice when it’s gone if it’s the only thing helping you get over the pain of old injuries.

Duck and cover….duck and cover….cover it all up and forget it…until the next time Pikachu falls off.

(Our band-aids weren’t as cool as the ones in the picture….they weren’t import Pokemon band-aids…they weren’t collectible band-aids….)

someone gets a chance….

Posted on by July 6, 2014

Someone gets a chance to hear this guy.

I don’t have permission to play this music.

I don’t have permission to do anything.

This was one of those “serendipitous moments”….YouTube scrolling and a guy with a good beard…and a good song.

There are so many good songwriters out there….so much of value that gets crowded out by the noisy ones and the self-promoters.

Art doesn’t seek attention….but you have to promote your art to make a living in this world…and by the time you’ve figured out how to commercialize any of the art you produce, you’re running the risk of leaving the art behind.

The ones who can survive it all are rare.

I love finding good music.

Here’s another video by Tyler Nail…..

www.tylernailmusic.com

wobblin’

Posted on by July 5, 2014

I woke up this morning with what feels like an inner ear infection or something close to it.

I’m wobbling.

That’s a weird feeling…usually I’m reasonably coordinated. I can stand up without feeling like the boat is leaning to one side….usually.

I wonder what is going on?

But what do I have to worry about?

I’ll spend most of the day driving….so as long as I keep two hands firmly on the wheel and my eyes fixed firmly on the horizon….I ought to be alright.

I’ll just drink a lot of coffee and get jazzed up.

Jazzed and wobbly has to be a good combination.

Today is “Coon Dog Day” in Saluda…and we (USPS employees) anticipate that it is going to be kind of hard to navigate into and out of town all day because of it.

So I plan on getting there really early and getting out of town really early, too.

That’s the plan, at least.

Mannnnn…..I’m crazy wobbly feeling.

This is not good.

What do “the people” say about the Weebles?

They wobble but they don’t fall down!!!

That’ll be my goal for the day.

I’ve never gone to a Coon Dog Day before.

One of the big reasons is the crowds.

I don’t want to be around crowds that much.

Apparently, over 10,000 people show up for the festivities and congregate in a small town main street that seems like it was designed to comfortably fit 200.

That’s what I’ll be driving a Jeep Cherokee, overloaded with two heavy days of mail because we were off for the 4th of July, through sometime later this morning.

Wobblin’ and weaving, wobblin’ and weaving….

Oh, well….I’ll make it.

I just need to make sure that I pay attention and don’t drive off the mountain or something.

We went to watch the fireworks last night at the one store that we have in the town of Tuxedo.

The folks who run the store put on a big display…about an hour’s worth of fireworks….and most of the people who live in the town must show up to watch the show.

It’s fun to see the town come out to support and enjoy that….fun to see the Green family do that for the community.

Holy Smokes….did I mention how wobbly I feel?

This can’t be good.

Happy Coon Dog Day, everybody.