sometimes life...

...can be so simply complicated.

At times I get philosophical. It's my nature. I apologize in advance to those whom I'm about to bore.

"The wife" and I love to try new things. We love to explore... reach out... experiment... test.

During our 29 years together (I'm counting our one year of dating too) we've learned that if we always do what we always did we'll always get what we've always got... which, in many ways isn't necessarily bad. But if you don't try something new you'll never know what might be better.

So we do... we try new things. Things that may lead to better experiences...
memories... life. Or things that may not.

Either way if we get the urge, if we have the desire, the energy, the want... feel the need. If we decide we're tempted to try... we will.

We will try in earnest! We have always done that... together... as husband and wife, as best friends, as lovers, as a team!

Up here in the Pacific Northwest we're blessed with a great, huge outdoor playground of sorts. Together we've experienced this playground in many, many ways. We raised our children to play, to test, to experiment... to try. To respect and protect... to use wisely... delicately. To cherish their environment... to have fun!

We've shared with them our belief that life... as short as it is should be fun... in a balanced sort of way.

And they realize and appreciate this. They do. With us, with their families, with others. They enjoy their lives as much as J and I enjoy ours.

So why am I sharing this with you? This family quest of sorts. Our own personal legacy of life... of family.

What purpose does it serve? Why does it need to serve any purpose?

Aren't we simply blessed with what we have and shouldn't we be thankful for what we get?

Isn't that a rule? A rule of life written in a book. Etched in granite... marble somewhere?

Do we need to push... to test... to experiment... to go beyond what we accept as fine... okay... comfortable in life. Why isn't a good life today not necessarily such a good life tomorrow?

What gives us the drive to press on? To explore... experiment... test? To try new things... to reach out? Why do we do this?

Perhaps it's because I bought a 'yak recently and have one helluva lotta mountain lakes, quiet bays and out of the way, slow moving rivers to get to in the next ten, maybe twenty years.

I know there's some fish out there waiting to bolster our spirits! I know J and I will be paddling our little 'yaks around these little pools for years to come!

I know I simply wanted to share with you... our friends... that we've bought a couple of kayaks and we're going to have a bit more fun... in many, many more ways.

Perhaps I went through all of this thought... this drivel simply to say...

"We're not done! Not nearly done! We're not through experimenting... playing! We're going to have fun and we're going to keep on keeping on! ...even if it kills us!"

Besides, we've bought these bloody things so now we have to use them.

...i guess sore fingers, aching bones, insane brother in laws tend to drive people to doing stuff like this... buying kayaks...

...they'll just make us a bit more remote... more difficult to find.

Ah yeah... our 'yaks, our dog, a remote mountain lake... a nice summer's day. What else can there be...

...I'd better not post my answer to that question on this blog.

unsolicited advice...

This picture is from The Holland Sentinel

Yesterday I was advised to "Never hire a veteran. Veterans are dishonest, untrustworthy, lazy and rarely show up on time. They're uneducated, lack ingenuity, have little if any common sense, have no integrity and usually have a drug or alcohol problem."

A direct quote from a person who was giving me his unsolicited "advice". I don't know him... certainly don't care to know him now.

I did the right thing though. I "walked away". I "walked away" after my brief but rather candid reply.

He knows a bit about me now... just a bit. He knows I'm a veteran as my father is, as my son is, as two of my brothers are, as my grandfather was, as my great grandfather was.

Yep. He damn sure knows I'm a veteran!

And he knows a bit about how I "appreciated" his advice.

After taking a bit of time to calm myself I moved on.

I wanted something... I needed something...

I searched for a poem of sorts that was sent to me when I was "serving the country" in '72. An anonymous sender who cared.

For those who don't know or don't remember public sentiment for people in the military back then, well... let's just say it wasn't all that favorable.

To counter the public's growing disdain a few bold, courageous, well intended individuals took it upon themseles to "reach out"... to attempt to "brighten things up" for the troops. Anonymously, they would send us words of encouragement.

Sent to us as poems, letters, short stories, cards... however they could.

Words of encouragement. Sometimes so simple, quite often so needed.

I remember getting the "poem" back then... from someone I didn't know... from some anonymous individual who really made this young G.I.'s life get so much brighter.

I remember reading it for the first time. The overwhelming feeling of pride... of having a purpose. Hurt and pain momentarily lifted. Fear and anger was pushed aside.

I remember the simple note that accompanied the poem. A handwritten "Thank you!"... that's it. Nothing more. I don't know who penned it... the note or the poem. I don't know when the poem was written. I don't really care.

But, I do want to thank that anonymous person who sent it to me...

...again.

As I have so many times already... as I will so many more times I'm sure.

I'm sharing this with you because I was inspired to do so yesterday by the unsolicited "advice" I received! Little does he know, his advice helped... not as he had intended, not as he had hoped... but it helped. I read the poem that I haven't read for oh-so-long...

...and I feel better.

Here's the poem.

Tommy

I went into a public-'ouse to get a pint o'beer,
The publican 'e up an' sez, "We serve no red-coats here."
The girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled fit to die,
I outs into the street again an' to myself sez I:

O it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, go away";
But it's ``Thank you, Mister Atkins,'' when the band begins to play,
The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
O it's ``Thank you, Mr. Atkins,'' when the band begins to play.

I went into a theatre as sober as could be,
They gave a drunk civilian room, but 'adn't none for me;
They sent me to the gallery or round the music-'alls,
But when it comes to fightin', Lord! they'll shove me in the stalls!

For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, wait outside";
But it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide,
The troopship's on the tide, my boys, the troopship's on the tide,
O it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide.

Yes, makin' mock o' uniforms that guard you while you sleep
Is cheaper than them uniforms, an' they're starvation cheap;
An' hustlin' drunken soldiers when they're goin' large a bit
Is five times better business than paradin' in full kit.

Then it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy how's yer soul?"
But it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll,
The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,
O it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll.

We aren't no thin red 'eroes, nor we aren't no blackguards too,
But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;
An' if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy paints:
Why, single men in barricks don't grow into plaster saints;

While it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, fall be'ind,"
But it's "Please to walk in front, sir," when there's trouble in the wind,
There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind,
O it's "Please to walk in front, sir," when there's trouble in the wind.

You talk o' better food for us, an' schools, an' fires an' all:
We'll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational.
Don't mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face
The Widow's Uniform is not the soldier-man's disgrace.

For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute!"
But it's "Saviour of 'is country," when the guns begin to shoot;
An' it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' anything you please;
But Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool - you bet that Tommy sees


...thank you!

Ed or Sue, any idea who penned this and when?

the weather's a changing...

...and I've been remiss about posting lately.

It's not that I don't have anything to write about it's just that my arthritic fingers, wrists, elbows and shoulders are screaming at me! Screaming because of some barometric pressure changes going on around here. Two pretty good northeast Pacific Storms blew through here in the past couple of days... pretty good ones. And I like a good storm. It's a lot like my personality, I've been told.

The problem is I'm not sure if this is a good thing anymore...

Anyways, I haven't posted. I haven't posted because I'm hurting a bit and there isn't enough Aleve in the bottle to make the aches go away when that weather makes these drastic changes.

DG, we're sending another system your way. You should have got our last one yesterday... unless it pushed a bit north and missed your butt. This system today is fixing to dump about 2 feet of snow in the mountain passes so in your cooler climate it might warrant a Winter Storm Warning notice... then again, maybe not. All I can say is that I have two brothers who live east of you, in Great Falls, Montana and they're getting quite the weather... from us... from our coast... and from our wonderful neighbors to the north.

I just thought I'd let folks know "the wife" and I are still around... bi-polar brother in law hasn't done anything to us. I just haven't posted lately... too sore.

...a bit of Wild Turkey, lemon juice, water and ice...

nothing like that to wash down the Aleve!

Quite the masking cocktail.

cheers all.

stormy weather...

...it happens. Storms can blow in from anywhere at anytime. Normally they're predicted, have advance warnings, forewarn those in their paths but sometimes... sometimes they just happen... a tempest from nowhere!

That's what happened three nights ago.

Bi-polar brother in law was not doing well at all... mentally. He was really, really getting oh-so-much worse and "The Wife" and I had nowhere to turn for help. We just did what we could to ensure he didn't hurt himself... or others. And we tried our best to keep him on some level of sanity.

After the desk he'd started a new project... a lamp table of sorts. We'd given him $40.00 to use for gas and to buy cigarettes with earlier in the day. He left our house in his pickup that we dubbed the "Beast" to do just that... left fairly early in the day by his standards... left around 12:00 noon. That's not saying he's sleeping in until then! Absolutely not. That's just saying his body's finally caught up with his mind long enough for him to get a rational thought in... as fleeting as it may be.

Anyway, he left. Drove off. Got in the beast and headed outta the driveway... backfiring and all.

Seven hours later he returned. He smelled like gas... a helluva lot like gas. I asked him what was up with the gas smell. He told me he ran out of gas and someone stopped to help him. He had to siphon some from their truck... enough to get to a station "down the road".

"Thought you had money for gas?" I asked him.

"I did"... he never really, fully explains himself.

"Annnddd???" I asked, getting a bit anxious. Not sure I wanted to know the answer.

"And what?" he was fumbling with something in the bed of the beast. A flat, round piece of plywood with three wooden, dowelling type legs jutting down from the plywood's base.

"Look!" He plopped the 3 legged plywood circle onto the driveway. "I'm going to make a lamp table."

It was going on 8:00 p.m. I was hoping he'd be sleeping a bit tonight because he'd finished his "desk lamp" project. You know... kind of give everyone a break and catch up on sleep... re-energize.

"Not tonight Bill. Not tonight." I told him as I walked back into the house. "How much did you have to pay for that?"

"$30.00" he answered "Not bad, huh?"

I shook my head as I went into the house. J was waiting for me.

"Well?" she asked. "Where was he and what'd he do?"

I shrugged my shoulders, walked past her and sat down at the laptop to finish the report I was writing. She followed me. She does that when I don't answer... follows and stares. No offense but I think that's a gender thing. I've noticed my daughter and daughter in law do it too. Follow "son in law" and "son" around, stare at them when the guys would have no words, when they couldn't think of anything they could say that would help explain the situation at hand... much like what was happening to me.

"He'll be in here in a minute. Ask him." I wouldn't look up. I just stared at the computer screen as I answered her.

Almost as if "on queue" he walked through the door, this $30.00 plywood contraption in tow. "The Wife" turned towards him, away from me... key words towards him, away from me. He was the focus... the entire focus of her attention. I couldn't see her face... but damn I wanted to. I could see his though. I could see the color in his face drain. I could see his eyes lose their luster, their bright, insanity type look... you know, that bright twinkle in the eye's corner much like the twinkle in an Appaloosa's eyes... that half-baked, gonna go nuts any second twinkle.

Well, I saw that twinkle fade when he locked eyes with J. I almost felt sorry for him. He knew she was a bit annoyed and he knew he was the cause. For once, someone else! YES!!!

I watched... with a huge grin I watched.

"Look at this" he tried to distract her... showing her his... plywood thing.

"What is it Bill?" She didn't take her eyes off of his.

"Look at it" he said as he shook it. "It's a lamp table. I bought it for you. I'm going to work on it. I'll make it look Italian so you can put it in your living room."

He was rambling. I was laughing... inside but still laughing. Laughing hard, very hard.

"Ask him how he got it" I couldn't let it end.

"How'd you get it?" she asked.

"I got it at an antique store" Not a good answer.

She winced. A visible, very pronounced wince.

"How much?"... left hand moving to her temple now... not good!

"He wanted $40.00 for it." one of his incomplete answers.

"How much?"... she's a master at this. Damn! I was in awe. Normally it was me on the receiving end. Now I could watch her at work. An artist.

"He wanted $40.00 but I got him down to $30.00" his gaze was falling towards the floor now, the plywood thingy placed on the floor next to him. She had won the first round.

"Do you have cigarettes?"

"I have five left" Oh, he wasn't even bothering to look up now.

"And why do you smell like gasoline?"

Oh this was good. I still couldn't see her face but when he raised his head, raised his eyes to look into J's I saw a totally defeated human being. He wouldn't answer. He just gathered his plywood thing and went out into the garage.

J turned to me.

"What are we going to do?"

"He has to go in... has to see the doctor. I'm going to be gone all day tomorrow but he has to get in somehow" I told her. I really did have to leave for a remote part of the state the next day to help out some region folks. I'd put it off for two weeks and couldn't put it off another day. She knew that.

"Call his doctor first thing in the morning and see if you can't get him in. He needs some quality time with the folks over at that psych ward" I suggested.

J was at wit's end. I was beyond. I was actually numb. She wasn't there yet.

We've been operating on 3 hrs. sleep every night for the past two... three weeks.

The next day I left early in the morning, around 04:00 a.m. to that meeting I'd been planning and canceling for the past several weeks. Bi-polar brother in law was in the garage working on the table when I went to bed at 11:30 p.m. and he was still out there working on it when I left for the region at 04:00 a.m.

J called me while I was still enroute... at around 08:00 a.m. and told me his doctor wanted to see him immediately. The doctor was very concerned he was relapsing. She (doctor) felt he should be admitted for a 30-90 day period so she and her colleagues could "study" him to determine what he needs.

We were both elated!!! Finally!!! Finally we were going to get some help with him!!! Finally we had someone notice!!!

"Have you told him yet?" I asked.

"No. He's out in the garage working on the table. I'm going to tell him in a minute. I just got off of the phone with his doctor" she said.

We said "good-bye", "I love you" to each other and hung up.

An hour later J calls and told me she sent bi-polar brother in law "on his way"... sent him away. It seems bi-polar brother in law called her everything but nice things, accused her and I of plotting to do GAWD KNOWS WHAT to him and stormed out of the house, refusing to go to his doctor.

J told him to stay away. Told him that if he "didn't want to do anything to help himself then we couldn't do it for him."

The last she saw of his pickup was it's tailgate as he drove it away.

I turned my vehicle around. I called the region folks, re-scheduled for another day and turned around... headed back home. Awhile later "the wife" called and told me bi-polar brother in law's crazy wife called her and told her that she's still in love with bi-polar brother in law... she's going to take care of him.

Like a storm... out of nowhere!

A tempest... swift, powerful and confusing!

J and I have peace again... except for the occasional phone call from bi-polar brother in law telling me to finish the lamp table in the garage.

What a ride... like a wild ride on a half baked Appaloosa.

i had to do it...

Take the quiz:
What alcoholic beverage are you?

Jose Cuervo
You're there for the party, and you ain't leaving till they throw you out. Just there to have fun, that's what its all about.

Quizzes by myYearbook.com -- the World's Biggest Yearbook!

Just an FYI... There's a lot of truth to this. "The Wife" will not let me drink Tequila... well, won't let me indulge in this wonderful mood (and human) altering liquor except on RARE very RARE occasions... I can not be held responsible...

I got this from Loopy Libertarian's blog.