more normal than not

It’s funny how much inspiration I can absorb on the walk downstairs to make my coffee.

There’s a big gap between the blank screen fuzziness in my head when I first get up and turn on the computer….. and the feeling I get after I know that soon I’ll get to take that first sip and lubrication will commence.

That’s kind of silly….but I do love to figure something out….and the ritual of making some coffee seems to help some…or at least buy me some time.

Maybe it’s just another procrastination.

I’m good at avoiding things by trying to get “all my ducks in a row”.

I’ll work towards something and “have just one more step” before I’m ready to begin tearing into the project…or I’ll have one more thing that I need to learn before I begin…or one more thing that I need to learn again….learn a different way.

Sometimes, I’m a lot more inspired if I can get away from the situation for a while and really concentrate hard on my procrastination.

Whatever the case may be…I’ll figure out a way to postpone something if it kind of scares me.

Sometimes it’s easier if the canoe just tips over and I find myself treading water before I even know that there was a chance of getting wet.

It doesn’t give me any time to read a number of explanations of what being down in the water feels like.

I just “am”….that’s easier, somehow.

This land thing looks like it’s going to be a “go situation” soon.

What a “pig in a poke” this is going to be.

I’m not really scared.

I don’t know what I feel…other than excitement and the expectation of what it’s going to be like to be in that heavy work mode soon.

Crazy times, crazy times.

Crazy to be outside a situation and to be chomping at the bit to start cleaning it all up…to see what’s underneath all the junk and overgrown vegetation.

I don’t think that Jenny and I have ever made a purchase this big.

So I guess that the canoe is tipping and I’m wondering if the water is still going to be as wet as it was the last time I fell in.

Ahhhh…..the french press plunge and fresh coffee are waking me up.

Sweet.

I don’t often get all my ducks in a row.

I do try to eat all the food on my plate…but I don’t get all my ducks in a row.

So I’m starting to realize that all my planning…or what I fool myself into calling “planning”….is really just a weird little dodge dance I do to avoid the inevitable.

I am going to have to gas up the chainsaw and just cut down everything dead that I see in my way…and then move on to the weed eating….and then out come some power tools and a whole heap of mindfulness, and it’ll be time for cutting up some wood and nailing it in place.

How hard could that be?

Simple as pie.

It’s intense planning like that …that will carry us through on this project.

“Just gas up the chainsaw” and …..go.

Any major renovation that involves a chainsaw has to have a good end in sight.

Here’s another surf video….it’s a good way to procrastinate…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I accessorize.

I have always been interested in things.

What the heck? If I’m going to lay it all out there, why not just admit that I could probably call myself an organized hoarder.

I can watch the show on television about the hoarders and be horrified as the rescuers gingerly step across the pizza boxes covering the dog poo.

That horrifies me.

How can people get like that?

How can they live like that?

I don’t live like that.

It’s pretty darn gross to live like that.

But I might spend 20 minutes looking for the tool I need because it’s crammed in the little back room with all the other tools and “stuff” that I’ve carefully set back there….the stuff that, if the “jenga” pile is disturbed, falls over into an unmanageable pile.

We’re buying another place.

I’m going to walk the 7 acres this afternoon with the current owners.

I don’t think that I’m interested in it because I feel the need to expand…that my monkey grasp is keeping me from getting anywhere.

I don’t think that I’m looking for more space to spread my crap around…..

I need to edit…not accrue.

I look at other friend’s lives and think, “Man…they are really organized….how’d that happen? How’d they get so organized?”

That’s the way it always looks from the outside.

They probably trip over stuff they just set down, too….

But….I must want more.

I may not expand…but the pile of stuff sure can.

Tools …good clothing….bicycles…old cars….GUITARS…books…I want it all.

Every bit of it.

That’s sick to covet like that.

And there’s not a bit of it….not one square foot or yard or cubic mile that will make me whole.

None of this stuff that I have completes me.

Now, I do suppose that it’s a good distraction.

If I have another new guitar, somebody might be too busy looking at it to look beyond at me.

It’s all just another “Gods Must Be Crazy” coke bottle….just another thing to worry about or have somebody else covet….even if the need isn’t really there.

I guess I’m not really that greedy. I’m just hyping it up a little to have something to write about. The coffee is kicking in and I’m realizing that I’m going to be OK again…that another morning and another 500 words is going to happen.

I’ll be OK.

I’ll be OK…but knowing me, I’ll still want.

I will want…. and get.

I will get….because it’s a wonderful distraction to “get”.

It’s an activity….”getting”….that takes my mind off some of the things that might be more important to do.

It’s a distraction that keeps me going….vibrating in place until the sheen of the new is worn off and I go on the hunt again.

I’m not noble enough to say that I can do without things.

I am a curious monkey….whatever I can get my hands on is good enough for me…until something bright and shiny catches the light and I hop over to check it out, too.

There isn’t a thing in this world that lasts, though.

All these “distractions” return to earth eventually.

When am I going to fixate on what’s really important?

WHAT’S UP WITH ME?

It looks like this land deal is actually going to go through.

My stomach says, “Gnnnnnnngggggggg”….which I’m sure is a confusing mix of excitement and fear.

More excitement than fear, though.

I’ve been running all the “fixes” that I’m going to have to do through my mind…and this morning it hit me that all the things that I know that I’m going to have to attack are just the things that I “know I’m going to have to attack”.

All I know at this point are the really obvious things.

And the obvious things aren’t necessarily the most pressing things to consider.

But, at this point in the process, they’re all that I know.

Like this porch.

It needs some work.

It needs some work so that it’s safe to walk on.

That’s pretty obvious and important.

I can see the problem…the porch floor’s kind of rotten…and I can ponder fixing it….and soon will be tearing stuff up and putting it back together with some solid materials.

That part is easy enough.

It’s the stuff that’s hiding…waiting for me….that I expect will get kind of weird.

It’s a big, heavy puzzle.

I don’t even know if all 5,000 pieces are in the box.

Jenny counts the pieces of the thrift store jigsaw puzzles that she buys for Nate….but it’s easier to do that when it’s less than a hundred.

I can’t count all the things that need fixing in the old house on that property we’re buying.

One good thing is that the bank didn’t even consider it in the kind of loan we’re getting.

The house didn’t even rate enough to consider loaning money against it.

It’s not “mortgage” worthy.

That kind of takes the heat off of me, huh?

I’ll be working on something that nobody thought was worth anything.

It’s hard to fall farther than the bottom….so I guess that there’s really not any pressure on me.

Whew…that was close. I thought I felt some pressure to perform there for a second.

Who am I kidding? I better step up.

I better be a MAN.

In the best sense of the word….I better be a real “stand up guy”.

I got work to do.

I will work on the structure…then work on the stuff that I can see….then, years later, if I’m still strong and healthy, work at fixing the stuff that I did wrong earlier.

Or maybe I’ll just try and do it right the first time.

That would be a novel approach….just do it right.

All these first impressions….all the things that I jump to the conclusion of thinking are the “right path”….the “way to proceed”….may not be right at all.

I guess that it’s better to “do something…even if it’s wrong” than to sit and wonder what might happen if I went out on a limb and …tried anything.

Piece by piece….this house is going to be a real hard to swallow “piece of cake”.

I will choke it down and go back for another.

I ain’t afraid of no stinkin’ porch.

 

 

I stopped to put the mail in one of the boxes on my route yesterday and something flew out of the box and into the car.

It kind of scared me.

I guess that in truth, it kind of startled me.

I wasn’t scared, just surprised.

They say that in a lonely mail jeep, no one can hear you squeal.

I’m glad that I didn’t cry out.

I wasn’t scared.

Actually, what happened was that the bird who’d built a nest in the compartment under where I put the mail in the mailbox must have been as startled as I was….because it flew through my open window as I went to put the letters in the box…and before it even registered what had happened, flew out the open window on the other side of the Jeep.

That was a coordinated bird.

It was only after a quick moment that I realized that it had been a bird at all.

It was just something that passed through my life that went by so fast that except for the wind of the beating wings I wouldn’t have noticed.

That’s what life is like out on the road, though…one exciting escapade after another.

not.

It’s usually pretty routine.

My kids grow up fast.

Not crazy “we better get them to a growth specialist” fast….just normal kid fast.

They’re kind of like that bird flying through my windows….doing what they can to make it to the other side….like we all do….and doing it so fast that I miss most of it except the feeling that the breeze leaves behind in their wake.

I don’t think that a person can really pay close enough attention to take it all in.

We can’t handle paying attention to our own lives.

We don’t notice things like we probably should.

Sparrow has a few teeth now and is starting to eat some solid food.

Jenny has a little yellow “food mill” that she grinds stuff up in (good, edible stuff) to feed to the baby.

Bananas…maybe a sweet potato….lots of stuff.

Rice cereal….

Of course, this solid food turns “potty time” (in Sparrow’s diaper) into a different sort of experience.

Same, really….but a little more substantial than it was before.

That’s just part of growing up.

It’s hard to believe that we all did that when we were little.

Like the book says, though….everybody poops.

We all pooped and, hopefully, will continue to do so.

Now we can feign sophistication and keep all our toiletries somewhat private, though.

Maybe the best we can do in the “noticing” department is to be aware that “something happened”….that the breeze we felt on our arm or cheek must have been a bird passing by….or a child growing up.

I didn’t even see that bird fly through.

I sure didn’t get a chance to hold it in my hand…..

Facebook is a goofy thing, sometimes.

Lots of horn tooting and self-absorption.

Of course, I’d be over in the corner, singing “I’m a Little Teapot” at the top of my lungs and calling the kettle black…. when it comes to self-absorption, I’m the king. I have no room to talk when it comes to pointing a self-absorbed finger at anybody.

I write this blog every morning, sitting in a dark room with no one else awake around me.

Sometimes the only subject in the vicinity that holds my interest is “me”…so I write out 500 words, and probably 453 of those words are pretty self-absorbed.

So, again, I really don’t have any room to talk about how weird Facebook can be sometimes.

Yesterday was Father’s Day and I saw something else at work.

My father is gone now.

Many of my friends who use Facebook have lost their fathers, too.

Many of my friends still have their fathers here with them.

I loved reading the tributes that people wrote for their fathers….both here….and away.

I loved the heart-felt eloquence.

That was some really beautiful stuff.

No matter what we believe politically….spiritually….any of the other topics that come up on Facebook, or anywhere else, for that matter that divide or confuse us…it meant a lot to me to see how much my friends love their fathers.

There are so many weird little details that derail us….who’s running or what they said….how someone else didn’t pull their weight or line up the events just right…how they didn’t support us in our beliefs….that sometimes we get distracted and forget what really matters to us.

Maybe we need the distraction?

Some of the “real stuff” might touch us a little too deeply.

Who needs to feel that raw all the time?

Maybe it’s better to just stay distracted.

There is so much that I don’t understand.

There’s so much that I try and figure out….pondering events and reactions like it might tell me something.

I do a lot more pondering than I do arriving at a conclusion.

I’m better at pondering than I am at figuring out answers.

We’re the children of our fathers and will spend a lifetime in that role.

That’s inescapable.

That’s our mode.

We’re the children…..no matter how old or mature we get, that’s the position we’ll always be in.

Reading all the Father’s Day tributes helps me know that some of these friends really have a handle on the only thing that we can ever really understand about what our father’s gave to us.

We were loved.

I hope that in all cases, we were loved.

We were taught love…and maybe, if we don’t stay too distracted, we can pass that along to the people in our lives who we care about.

All my eloquent friends!

What an expected and happy surprise to see all that eloquence on display!

I’m glad that we love our fathers.

That makes me feel good.

 

 

Picture: Zoe Rorvig