There can be only one.
That was true in the Highlander and it applies to other things as well. In this case I'm talking about tea--which is shocking to me. I'm not really a tea drinker.
Of course, there are many different types of tea. But I've discovered that for me there is only one "real" tea. Red Rose (original black tea). My parents and grandparents drank Red Rose. When I had iced tea as a child (which was every day during the summer), it was Red Rose. When I needed a hot tea bag to hold over an eye, it was Red Rose. When I had to make...well, you get the picture.
I had a cup of Red Rose recently, for the first time in many years. It was oddly satisfying. The taste brought back a lot of memories. It tasted like home. I've tried lots of different brands and varieties over the years (while treating sore throats, colds, etc.). Some were better than others. But Red Rose is the one. I'm glad I found that out. I may be a tea drinker yet. :)
PS - I never imagined that tea could ever inspire me to write a blog post. Ever.
Monday, August 11, 2014
Wednesday, July 30, 2014
Childhood Summer Vacations
During my youth, my dad usually took a one week summer vacation each year. The first weekend we might have a picnic by the creek on his family farm. Or maybe go to a carnival. On Monday we'd go to a beach on the Chesapeake Bay--aunts and uncles and cousins were usually there too. That's where my dad tried to teach me to swim (I sank instead--but I did learn to swim later). Those first 3 days of his vacations were usually fun.
The rest of the week felt something like this:
You load sixteen tons, what do you get
The rest of the week felt something like this:
You load sixteen tons, what do you get
Another day older and deeper in debt
Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go
I owe my soul to the company store
(because I got no allowance :)
The lyrics are from the song "16 Tons". I'm being a little melodramatic here, but only a little. The rest of the week was taken up by one physically demanding project or another. There was lots of digging and sawing and hauling. One year we dug a trench (down past the basement to install drainage tiles) all the way around our house. Another year we built a 2-car car port. We dug shallow drainage ditches all around the edges of the property. Shingled the house roof. Built a shed. Built another shed. Every year (usually twice a year) we did pick and shovel work to smooth out the dirt road that connected our little neighborhood to the county road....hauling gravel where it was needed.
Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go
I owe my soul to the company store
(because I got no allowance :)
The lyrics are from the song "16 Tons". I'm being a little melodramatic here, but only a little. The rest of the week was taken up by one physically demanding project or another. There was lots of digging and sawing and hauling. One year we dug a trench (down past the basement to install drainage tiles) all the way around our house. Another year we built a 2-car car port. We dug shallow drainage ditches all around the edges of the property. Shingled the house roof. Built a shed. Built another shed. Every year (usually twice a year) we did pick and shovel work to smooth out the dirt road that connected our little neighborhood to the county road....hauling gravel where it was needed.
That was in addition to the regular chores. We did chores year round, but the work really ramped up during my dad's summer vacation. If I could go back and skip all of that, I wouldn't. I can't say it was fun, but it was educational. Plus, we accomplished a lot with our own hands and that's always a nice feeling.
I need to be a better dad--by working my kids much harder, so they can have that nice feeling too! :)
I need to be a better dad--by working my kids much harder, so they can have that nice feeling too! :)
Friday, July 25, 2014
Summer Memory
Hopefully we all have nice memories of past summers, happy times with family and friends. I found myself reminiscing this morning about one of those times.
As I've mentioned, my grandmother ran a tiny grocery store in our neighborhood. One summer we had a long power outage. She bought dry ice in an attempt to save her frozen items. But eventually she realized it was a lost cause. Sounds bad, right? And it may have been for her (I hope she had insurance). But for the neighborhood kids it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. My grandmother was giving away ice cream!!!
We could have whatever we wanted. The ice cream-on-a-stick selections were too far gone at that point. So we each took a half gallon. Chocolate chip was my favorite at the time, so I chose that. I joined the neighborhood kids standing out in the grass, eating our huge containers of ice cream with those little wooden spoons.
That was FUN! And messy. Messier than the times we ate fresh-cut watermelon outside in the yard--spitting seeds at each other. Boys!
I hope we all have some messy fun before summer ends. Maybe this weekend.
Have a great weekend folks!
As I've mentioned, my grandmother ran a tiny grocery store in our neighborhood. One summer we had a long power outage. She bought dry ice in an attempt to save her frozen items. But eventually she realized it was a lost cause. Sounds bad, right? And it may have been for her (I hope she had insurance). But for the neighborhood kids it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. My grandmother was giving away ice cream!!!
We could have whatever we wanted. The ice cream-on-a-stick selections were too far gone at that point. So we each took a half gallon. Chocolate chip was my favorite at the time, so I chose that. I joined the neighborhood kids standing out in the grass, eating our huge containers of ice cream with those little wooden spoons.
That was FUN! And messy. Messier than the times we ate fresh-cut watermelon outside in the yard--spitting seeds at each other. Boys!
I hope we all have some messy fun before summer ends. Maybe this weekend.
Have a great weekend folks!
Wednesday, July 16, 2014
Food poisoning!
That's what happened to me. Or I had a bad stomach bug (there is one going around DC). It was definitely one of those two things. It was the worst stomach "thing" I've had since the time I got sick in NYC and ended up evading security officers.
That's a story for another day. Today I'm just whining about having been sick.
Whatever it was, it knocked me off my feet for 3 days and I didn't feel normal for close to 2 weeks. On the bright side, I couldn't eat much on July 4th. That saved me a few calories.
But I really like our traditional cookout food: grilled hot dogs, hamburgers, boneless chicken and, this year, cedar plank salmon; potato salad; cole slaw; cucumber salad; fresh tomatoes; baked beans (with lots of bacon and a little mustard).
And brownies and strawberry cake.
Oh well, there's always next year.
Did I miss anything while I was away? Is your summer off to a better start than mine???
That's a story for another day. Today I'm just whining about having been sick.
Whatever it was, it knocked me off my feet for 3 days and I didn't feel normal for close to 2 weeks. On the bright side, I couldn't eat much on July 4th. That saved me a few calories.
But I really like our traditional cookout food: grilled hot dogs, hamburgers, boneless chicken and, this year, cedar plank salmon; potato salad; cole slaw; cucumber salad; fresh tomatoes; baked beans (with lots of bacon and a little mustard).
And brownies and strawberry cake.
Oh well, there's always next year.
Did I miss anything while I was away? Is your summer off to a better start than mine???
Monday, June 23, 2014
What about the dad??? II
Several years ago I wrote a post on the fact that my dog, Bandit, out-ranked me in the family--and got WAY more attention. Bandit was a great dog--handsome, sweet, loyal. A really great dog. He passed away last fall. After giving the kids time to grieve, we got a new puppy this spring--another Border Collie. We named her Maggie.
She's a terror. She's much more stubborn and challenging than Bandit was as a puppy. And trickier. My wife (not me) says it's because she's a female. When we get her to stop gnawing on the furniture or rug, she'll take one of her many toys to that spot and start chewing on it instead. Within 30 seconds the toy becomes a decoy as she starts chewing on the furniture (or rug) again. I'm pretty sure it works for her whenever I'm not home.
Despite her issues, she has already come to out-rank me in the family.
After one of her more challenging days, I wondered if it would be ethical to give her away as a rescue dog--I'm not doing it, she's part of the family and I know she'll grow out of this phase. It was just a (pleasant) thought. Anyway, rescue dogs can be difficult to get. We applied for one, but there was too much competition. Little Maggie would be scooped up in a second.
As that thought was rolling around in my head, I thought, "I'M the one who needs to be rescued!" That makes me a "rescue dad". So I tweeted out what I thought was a funny ad: "Rescue dad free to good home. Has all his shots. Sweet disposition, but doesn't always play well with others."
I didn't get a single taker. Dogs have all the luck!
PS - Maggie was born on my birthday. I'll be lucky to even get a card from now on. :D
She's a terror. She's much more stubborn and challenging than Bandit was as a puppy. And trickier. My wife (not me) says it's because she's a female. When we get her to stop gnawing on the furniture or rug, she'll take one of her many toys to that spot and start chewing on it instead. Within 30 seconds the toy becomes a decoy as she starts chewing on the furniture (or rug) again. I'm pretty sure it works for her whenever I'm not home.
Despite her issues, she has already come to out-rank me in the family.
After one of her more challenging days, I wondered if it would be ethical to give her away as a rescue dog--I'm not doing it, she's part of the family and I know she'll grow out of this phase. It was just a (pleasant) thought. Anyway, rescue dogs can be difficult to get. We applied for one, but there was too much competition. Little Maggie would be scooped up in a second.
As that thought was rolling around in my head, I thought, "I'M the one who needs to be rescued!" That makes me a "rescue dad". So I tweeted out what I thought was a funny ad: "Rescue dad free to good home. Has all his shots. Sweet disposition, but doesn't always play well with others."
I didn't get a single taker. Dogs have all the luck!
PS - Maggie was born on my birthday. I'll be lucky to even get a card from now on. :D
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
Can't Always Get What We Want
I want this today:
It's a Piña Colada cake I made well over a year ago. Rooth gave me the recipe. It was soooo good! I made it myself, then did what I do best with receipes--I lost it. That was the first (and last) time I ever made whipped cream. I thought that stuff came from factories.
You can tell from the distribution of the coconut that I planned to share the cake. I like coconut and toasted coconut, so I devoted sections of the cake to both. No one else in my family likes either, so I left an entire half of the cake bare. Half the cake for me, half for the rest of the family.
That's sharing, right??? :D
PS - I kept burning the "toasted" coconut. What you see in the picture was my 3rd batch. I gave up after that.
It's a Piña Colada cake I made well over a year ago. Rooth gave me the recipe. It was soooo good! I made it myself, then did what I do best with receipes--I lost it. That was the first (and last) time I ever made whipped cream. I thought that stuff came from factories.
You can tell from the distribution of the coconut that I planned to share the cake. I like coconut and toasted coconut, so I devoted sections of the cake to both. No one else in my family likes either, so I left an entire half of the cake bare. Half the cake for me, half for the rest of the family.
That's sharing, right??? :D
PS - I kept burning the "toasted" coconut. What you see in the picture was my 3rd batch. I gave up after that.
Sunday, June 8, 2014
Internal Narratives - Part II
I mentioned in the first half of this story that my wife and I continued to help her parents as we started building our own family. We were both working and I was going to school at night. She got laid off just before our daughter was born. The timing was perfect. Eight months later the company brought her back part-time, then laid her off again just before our son was born. Good timing again.
Our son had special needs and needed a stay-at-home parent. So my wife getting laid off wasn't a bad thing. I changed jobs and started working longer hours. Within 2 years I was offered a job that would require absolutely crazy hours. As I considered my options, we discovered our son needed a combination of speech and physical therapy five days a week. It was not covered by our health insurance...and 20 therapy sessions a month was going to be expensive. I took the job.
As a result, my wife had to take over managing our bills. I was so disconnected from our finances I only looked at our bank balances at tax time. I noticed the balance in our savings account was lower than the year before. My wife's explanation didn't sound right, but I had no reason to doubt her. We agreed neither of us would touch the savings account without talking about it first. We repeated that scene/conversation 3 years in a row.
After the 4th year I changed jobs and didn't work such long hours. I planned to take over managing our bills again. My wife asked me to wait 6 months so she could get everything organized. I agreed. When I brought it up in 6 months she said she thought I was kidding and needed 6 months to get things organized. I got mad.
I 'd worked out several budget scenarios, trying to figure out where our money went. Every calculation showed we should have been adding to our savings instead of eating into it. Based on the variance, I thought she might have been making double mortgage payments each month. She wasn't. I'd hoped she was spending it on her parents. She said she wasn't.
She was (but, technically, I didn't know that).
She felt weird about the money she spent on them because she wasn't "working" (she was working harder than I was). She thought I would get mad...maybe mad enough to leave her. That was the false narrative that existed just in her head. We'd been helping her parents pretty much always. I didn't mind that.
But I developed a narrative in my head too. I felt I'd spent years working 100 hour weeks for nothing. My wife was lying to me. Which meant she didn't respect me. Which meant she didn't love me. I was being dumb. "Technically" I didn't know she had spent the money on her parents. But I knew my wife and, in my heart, I had to know the money was going towards them. My head was being stubborn and wouldn't let me see that. (When people ask what one thing I would go back and change, I think about this situation. I would change how I reacted.)
The false narrative in my wife's mind, combined with the warped logic of my burned-out brain, almost caused the very thing she feared. It was kind of ridiculous, but I'm afraid it happens to couples fairly often. Some "thing" that's not even really a "thing" tears them apart.
We eventually had an honest conversation about this and we were able to work through everything. It wasn't easy. But the fact that we did is proof (to me) that people can get through almost anything if they are committed and communicate with each other.
Never assume a "thing" is really a "thing" without talking about it with your spouse, partner, friend, co-worker, whoever. You could be causing yourself unnecessary aggravation and creating a problem out of nothing. Talk about whatever it is. Even if you're right, it's still better to talk about it. "Things" rarely go away by themselves.
Our son had special needs and needed a stay-at-home parent. So my wife getting laid off wasn't a bad thing. I changed jobs and started working longer hours. Within 2 years I was offered a job that would require absolutely crazy hours. As I considered my options, we discovered our son needed a combination of speech and physical therapy five days a week. It was not covered by our health insurance...and 20 therapy sessions a month was going to be expensive. I took the job.
As a result, my wife had to take over managing our bills. I was so disconnected from our finances I only looked at our bank balances at tax time. I noticed the balance in our savings account was lower than the year before. My wife's explanation didn't sound right, but I had no reason to doubt her. We agreed neither of us would touch the savings account without talking about it first. We repeated that scene/conversation 3 years in a row.
After the 4th year I changed jobs and didn't work such long hours. I planned to take over managing our bills again. My wife asked me to wait 6 months so she could get everything organized. I agreed. When I brought it up in 6 months she said she thought I was kidding and needed 6 months to get things organized. I got mad.
I 'd worked out several budget scenarios, trying to figure out where our money went. Every calculation showed we should have been adding to our savings instead of eating into it. Based on the variance, I thought she might have been making double mortgage payments each month. She wasn't. I'd hoped she was spending it on her parents. She said she wasn't.
She was (but, technically, I didn't know that).
She felt weird about the money she spent on them because she wasn't "working" (she was working harder than I was). She thought I would get mad...maybe mad enough to leave her. That was the false narrative that existed just in her head. We'd been helping her parents pretty much always. I didn't mind that.
But I developed a narrative in my head too. I felt I'd spent years working 100 hour weeks for nothing. My wife was lying to me. Which meant she didn't respect me. Which meant she didn't love me. I was being dumb. "Technically" I didn't know she had spent the money on her parents. But I knew my wife and, in my heart, I had to know the money was going towards them. My head was being stubborn and wouldn't let me see that. (When people ask what one thing I would go back and change, I think about this situation. I would change how I reacted.)
The false narrative in my wife's mind, combined with the warped logic of my burned-out brain, almost caused the very thing she feared. It was kind of ridiculous, but I'm afraid it happens to couples fairly often. Some "thing" that's not even really a "thing" tears them apart.
We eventually had an honest conversation about this and we were able to work through everything. It wasn't easy. But the fact that we did is proof (to me) that people can get through almost anything if they are committed and communicate with each other.
Never assume a "thing" is really a "thing" without talking about it with your spouse, partner, friend, co-worker, whoever. You could be causing yourself unnecessary aggravation and creating a problem out of nothing. Talk about whatever it is. Even if you're right, it's still better to talk about it. "Things" rarely go away by themselves.
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