Needed to peek under the hood and see who I've become this year. Dust off the 'ol soul and see how it looked. Mostly a lot of dark smudges and far too little good for my liking. Accomplishments that once made me proud, feel a little hollow now, an echo in a cave that can't hold anyone's interest for long. Good incentive to do things for the right reason I guess.It does raise an interesting question. What is the right reason? No, I don't mean the answer that you know sounds right, that everyone will agree to. There are some things to which you have to answer a certain way, because you can't do otherwise and remain part of the human race. Love, charity, and selflessness all sound good on the tongue. Another one, though not nearly as noble, is that everybody likes pleasure, and pleasure comes in many flavors. Cookies and creme anyone? As this is not a rhetorical question, I won't attempt an answer. I was always taught that using rhetorical questions, is a poor writing technique, so I won't use it. The question may be more relevant than the answer.

Over the past week, I told a nine year old and an seven year old one story a night. They loved it. Ants with buzzards as relatives, a talking banana split that saved the day, the pain of riding a porcupine, and even a T-Rex that turned into a snake (had a lot of fun with it running through the forest, screaming, and then thumping to the ground). From an earlier year there was the fire-breathing sheep named George that drowned. If only I could make a living telling stories to young kids verbally! There is so much that doesn't work in print that works well out loud. Though my stories averaged under ten minutes, so I'm probably not in line for storyteller of the year. Guess underneath the hood I've spent a lifetime with animals that talk and legos that play out imaginary drama's invisible to the naked eye. A stubborn refusal to give up my childhood that every once in awhile spills out into reality. The ultimate escapist whose escapism sometimes breaks out of prison for a quick run around town.

Oh well, time to climb up on the treadmill that I've restarted using for the ninety-third attempt at consistent exercise in my life. I've made it a week if I round up slightly. Real people can be dull I think, which is why imaginary ones have much more interesting lives. Got dizzy and nearly fell down an escalator at the Mall on Saturday while carrying a dining ware set I just bought. See, I wrote it and I'm already bored! Time to put away the soul and close the hood. I'll take it out again and dust it off again next year I suppose.

SigmaWind

Christmas is an expensive holiday. Peel back the layer of snow, the veneer of reindeer and trees, tinsel and lights and what flows through its heart?

A good friend is going home from John Hopkins to a hospital closer to his home. He will arrive without a colon, on dialysis, too weak to stand, yet alive nonetheless to face whatever lies beyond tomorrow.
Faults and failures, mistakes they swirl in the wind like the leaves from fall and then they are gone. Bare trees dot the landscape, giving no clue as to the fruit they will bear.

Another man, a former pastor and friend, sent home from the hospital breathing, a hospice nurse by his side. Miles of blacktop, separate us now, and the New Year fast approaches.

My wife and I built a gingerbread house. We cheated- used a kit. The house is dotted with candy and sugar, glued together with icing. The ginger bread tree tilts, pulled over by the weight of its sweet ornaments, propped up with more candy still. There was ginger bread man left over, and no place to put him, so we ate him. We put it on red tissue paper and took a picture. So impermanent, never meant to make it to next year.

Christmas is an expensive holiday. Gingerbread houses and many cheaters who used a kit flow like blood through its arteries, giving it life.

Faith preaches that a permanent God stepped into the impermanent body of a baby a long time ago. Life and death bound together, struggling to breathe, and reaching for a purpose that angels proclaimed yet by Easter men would forget. That is why I took a picture of our gingerbread house. Memory and purpose is such a fleeting and expensive thing.
 

Climbing up a hill should be harder then coming down. Pain is bad, except only the dead feel nothing. The foolish fear nothing. The courageous face their problems in spite of their fears.

Physical therapy is a strange repetitive world. Small exercises repeated often. Solutions obtained not on the path of least resistance, but charging recklessly into the line of scrimmage, knowing only grit and determination can bring one safely to the other side.

Not every pain will vanish, not every hurt suddenly disappear. Not every character flaw and mistake vanishes back into the bottle like a genie on a command. So many scratched Christmas ornaments hung on the tree, memories worth keeping, worth one more buff, and a little more crazy glue.
 

Where the Mums Bloom

Bright leaves now litter the yard and the trees are nearly naked.
Memories of small hospital rooms, and endless IV's.
Pain and no one knows why.
People pushing, voices demanding, expectations unmet.
Always wanting to know why.
Only the clouds drift by and the never-ending rain.
Again it is fall.
Again.

Vibrant living maroon and red, mixed yellow and brown, bleached gray.
Like picking a daisy’s petals, 'It hurts', 'It hurts not'.
Intermittent, daily abdominal pain, bloating, and soreness.
Chest pain and pressure, waking long before dawn with nothing to do but wait.
Do I stand fast? Or Slow? Or feel like a fool because IT MIGHT have hurt, but didn't that time.
Stress tests, and colonoscopies. Endoscopies and Cat Scans.
Nothing there though.
Another burp.
Again.

I ate CHOCHOLATE last night and I didn't get sick.
When no great ill followed the first, I ate another.
At least if I don't press in the wrong place.
So much world, full of garbage dumps and rust,
Concrete and glass jungles.
Yet, the mums bloom and rainbows grace the sky.
Jagged forks of lightning erasing what was there before,
Awesome thunder in the distance.

Only the clouds drift by and the never-ending rain.
Nothing there though.
Yet, the mums bloom, and rainbows grace the sky.
 

1-> When you see a squirrel chase it! It really doesn't matter if you can catch it or not. The chase is what matters. Maybe one day, you’ll get to it before it goes up that tree.

2-> Playing catch with a stick is fun, but if you bite too deep you risk splinters. Bark also tastes nasty.

3-> All strangers should be greeted with barking. If their part of the pack, they'll bark back. If their afraid, then they must be up to no good.

4-> The real alpha dog always goes out the door first. Lead by example.

5-> Why limit yourself to scratching with just your front paws? Use all your resources! That includes but is not limited too; hind legs, humans, couches, and miscellaneous rough surfaces.

6-> When bored don't depend on someone else to provide entertainment. There are endless ways to sift through the trash or better yet find and play tug of war of with various and sundry object like sneakers, lost socks, etc. For the ultimate boredom buster prove to your owner that you can catch your tail! It provides hours of endless amusement for them and you.

7-> If your owner won’t let you out or take you out to go the bathroom, go the bathroom by the door. That way they’ll know it’s their fault.

8-> When in trouble, hide under the bed. If you don’t fit completely, even just getting your head under it will help.

Signed,

The Wise Dog


 

Years ago, when the weatherman said 'snow' we got 'rain'. If he said 'two inches’, we either got nothing or 'two feet'. The uncertainty of the weather was a guide to the entire universe. The reliable thing was that it always did something different from the predictions.

Time rolled on, years went by, and all of a sudden, the weathermen began to get it right. They measure the weather down to the hour now, and their only problem is that when it rains at my house it may be snowing at yours. They get the idea right, but much of the time, they still miss the timing.

Odd how much like the universe the weather is.

 

Nothing changes when you come home, but its still a better place to be. Got home late yesterday afternoon, and I'm glad to be here. My wife was excited I was home (which is always good). The dogs were excited to see me (as only dogs can be).

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: NEVER UNDERVALUE HOME, OR YOU MAY LOSE IT.
 

A rental car waits for the weary dawn,
To make a way for what must be.
The winds of winter buffet me.
Today, cold weather clothes like sweaters,
Were folded away for another day,
As arrives, the warming ways of spring.
Underneath a fading field of stars,
The highway stretchs on.

Traveling north today, did I say?
Or was it west, then north again,
I hardly know the way.

 

The end of one moment is but the beginning of another. Change, delimited by new events, limitations, and opportunities, is inevitable. Men have debated the 'end' since the 'beginning', and imagined it as a frozen waste, a glorious supernova, or even another Biblical flood. Individual moments of change, are often not so dramatic. They also come with a timer, delimiting not whether you can make the choice, but the time before the ‘default’ choice happens without your input.

I have received an interview from a state job I applied for three months ago. They are obviously not in a hurry. Additionally, this week, I may be able to determine my chances of getting an out-of-state job, which means sell house and move. Meanwhile, I am waiting to hear the results of an interview I had last week. I don't know if I'm coming or going.

The sun has just begun to lighten up the world outside, and one of my dogs is lying sprawled at my feet. She still wants to go for walk. Imagine that, the world still goes on.
 

Sigh. The job may not be a good match. The interview may have been a bust. I still have hopes, but in the world of technology the type of technology rules. I'm not sure the interviewer that I talked to knew that much about the acronyms and technology I’ve worked on. He may not have recognized where similarities exist. Add to that a base of experience in different industries, and I'm not sure how well it came it off. I do not know how well Microsoft financial services development experience will sell in a Sun world

However, the good thing is this: No interview, no job. So even if this one does not work out, perhaps another one will. My fingers and toes are crossed. My theory is this if you can get interviews; eventually you can land the right job.