Category Archives: miscellaneous

miscellaneous

No Post Today

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After a busy weekend, I don’t really have time to make a post today.

Friday night I was able to get another chapter done in Documenting America: Civil War Edition.

Saturday was full of yard work, filing of papers, updating of checkbooks, shopping for groceries, and so many tasks that tucker a 65-year-old fellow out.

Sunday was church, of course, followed by lunch at home (rather than take the wife and mother-in-law out into the restaurant chaos that comes every Mothers Day), followed by reading and a nap. Followed by writing time in The Dungeon.  I managed to get two more chapters done in the book. That leaves only one to go. I had hoped to complete all three this weekend, but that was a bit much with all I had going on.

By the time I completed the second chapter on Sunday, I had no time to write a blog post. My mind was mostly fried at having to somehow pull those three chapters together over three days. I couldn’t decide what to blog on next. So, instead of deep insight from me on some burning issue, you get this non-post post, a mere 214 words.

Happy Mothers Day, belated on Monday, for all moms reading this. I hope it was a great one.

miscellaneous, Writing

Trouble with the Curve

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In his sermon yesterday, Pastor Mark Snodgrass started off with a baseball illustration. He said he once had an ambition to become a professional baseball player—until a coach convinced him he didn’t have the talent for that. Mark admitted he had trouble with the curve—and the slider, the knuckleball, the change-up. It was a good opening for his sermon.

I identified with that. I for sure didn’t have any skills for baseball, even at the junior high level. But more than that, I have trouble with the curve. Not the curveball the pitcher throws, but at the curves life throws up.

Last Thursday, I had a curveball thrown at me by life. Took my pick-up into the dealership for routine servicing, as well as to look at a developing problem. I had it there at 7:00 a.m. I was first in. Yet, they didn’t call me until the end of the day, saying they didn’t have it done and wouldn’t that day. Curveball.

Just yesterday, life threw another curve at me, though it was of my own making. I took a walk after lunch, going 2.77  miles at a pretty good clip. Just a minute before getting home I kicked at a stick in the road, to nudge it off the pavement. My foot hit the pavement too hard, refused to go forward, and, since I was kicking while walking, my body kept going when my foot stopped. I tumbled onto the asphalt pavement. I’m okay. A few scrapes, my right knee hurting a little, and minor trauma in my left ankle. Maybe a painful hip and lower back. So the kicking was my fault, but the inability to judge that, and to maintain better balance, was the curve life threw.

I don’t like curves thrown at me. They take me out of my comfort zone. I like routine best. Up at 6 every morning. Shower, shave, dress, grab my lunch and hit the road. Eat a simple breakfast at work. Have my quiet hour at my desk, begin work at 8. Five glorious days of routine every week. Yes, after 43 years it’s getting tiring, but I can do it a little longer.

Curves can be almost anything. A dinner fixed that doesn’t turn out as nice as you’d like. A book sale that turns into a return. A well-planned day that goes askew when a client asks for something you weren’t expecting. A shelf that starts to fall apart because it wasn’t well made in the first place. A plot line in a book that doesn’t seem to work out, and you have no idea how to finish it.

I need to learn to not let the curves get to me. Somehow. I’m not sure how, but somehow.

miscellaneous, stock market, Writing

Taxes Almost Done

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Yes, I’m very, very close to having my taxes done. Normally I do them much earlier than this, around the end of February and first of March. But, this year at that time I was working on Preserve The Revelation and “Growing Up Too Fast”, either editing, writing, or publishing. They were done toward the end of March. I needed a break, so didn’t begin them for a few days, maybe around April 3.

I won’t take a long time explaining this. Our taxes are complicated. Our stock trading partnership, my writing sole proprietorship, my work, Lynda’s social security. It makes for lots of forms, and worksheets from the instructions. I have Excel spreadsheets built to do the calculations. All I have to do is come with the W-2, the 1099s, and deductions statements. This year my paperwork was well organized. I also have to check my spreadsheets against the forms and instructions for the tax year, in case something has changed.

I had the Federal done, and began working on the State. My spreadsheet links the State to the Federal, and rounds the Federal amounts to 00 cents, as Arkansas requires. Everything flows quickly from the Federal to the State. But, at the last minute, the State wanted me to attach Federal form 8889. I scrambled, and found that form 8889 is REQUIRED if you have an active Health Savings Account, as I do. I’d never heard of this before, but apparently I should have filed it every year since I had the HSA, about six or seven years. Since my HSA is funded with pre-tax dollars, I have no tax consequences. However, I still have to file it. I had two stressful days learning about and then completing Form 8889. But it’s done.

The status is: My Federal and State forms are done, printed, signed, copies, and mailed. My partnership calcs are done, the forms printed, and signed. All except for one form that I forgot about printing. I couldn’t do it at work today, so I’ll do it at home this evening and mail it all Monday. I also do taxes for my mother-in-law. I did the calcs on them last night, concluded she didn’t owe any taxes, and so decided to set them aside for a couple of days and take a break.

During these last two weeks, engrossed in taxes as I’ve been, I’ve done almost nothing for writing. That should change this weekend.

Doctor Luke's Assistant, Documenting America, miscellaneous, Preserve The Revelation, Writing

Still Weary, But Will Write On

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My last post, on Feb. 23, was written in Atlanta, Georgia. I was there for a conference, the Environmental Connection 17 conference put on by the International Erosion Control Association. For the first time in years, I didn’t submit a technical paper for presentation. So I was just an attendee, renewing old connections, making new ones, and encouraging one of our younger engineers who did present a paper, his third.

The flights out, via Dallas-Fort Worth, went well. We had a long enough layover in Dallas that it was enjoyable. We got easy transportation to the hotel. The walk from the hotel to the conference center, over two elevated walkways, was just about right. The Wednesday activities were good. Jim Cantore of The Weather Channel gave the keynote address. I went to some technical sessions on things I wasn’t familiar with, and broadened my perspectives. All was well.

But something happened on Wednesday, not at the conference, that wasn’t good. I won’t go into details here. Let’s just say it threw me for a loop. It so affected me I wasn’t able to sleep that night in the hotel. I tossed and turned, and finally got up and read. It was well after 2:00 a.m. when I finally went back to bed, though I’m not sure when I fell asleep.

The next day I made that post. I made it from my company smart phone, the first text-intensive post I’ve made from it. That was something new for me. During the day, the situations that caused me to lose sleep somewhat resolved themselves. By the end of the day, Thursday, I was doing much better emotionally. I blew off the social gatherings at the conference, went back to the hotel, and spent the rest of the day editing my novel in manuscript. I made significant progress on it.

I wish I knew why I let things affect me so. Part of the problem is that I engage in two activities that can put you on the emotional roller coaster. One is writing; the other is stock trading. Stock trading is going well this year. I’ve had a lot more winners that losers, and I’m earning at a rate that I like. Writing is also going okay, though I still get no sales. At this time I’m not ready to put money into advertising, so I’ll likely have low sales.

Once my book is ready and I publish it, I’m sure I’ll get some sales of it, and perhaps of others at the same time. Before I publish it, however, I really need to correct and re-publish Doctor Luke’s Assistant, because it comes before Preserve The Revelation in the series. I made all the corrections to the DLA master file, formatted it for print, uploaded it, and had CreateSpace check it. Alas, it had many formatting errors, all due to lack of recognition (or user error) of inserted section breaks and having the wrong page on the wrong leaf. I was working on that last weekend, but hadn’t finished it. That will be a tomorrow task.

A day-after-tomorrow task will be re-reading PTR in manuscript. I had enough edits on this round, my second round of edits, that I believe I need a third round. This will delay publishing, but I’m having that delay anyway due to the DLA problems. Alas.

One good thing did come of this trip. When I was packing Monday evening and Tuesday morning, I had to decide on what reading matter to bring with me. I have several books on Google Play and on my Nook, so I didn’t need to bring any print book. But at the last minute I stuck in the Civil War volume of the Annals of America. , just in case I wanted to read that. It’s research for my next book, whereas everything on my electronic devices is for family history, research for later books, or recreation. On the first flight I pulled out AoA and read the entire flight. I did the same on the next flight, and in the hotel room the first night. I often have trouble focusing on the entries in this book, but on this trip I didn’t. I was able to focus on each article I read, making marginalia, finding great quotes, and possibly adding to my civil war book. It was a good choice. Not sure why I could focus this time when I’ve had trouble doing so most times, but I’m glad for the result and won’t question it.

Life is an emotional rollercoaster. Sometimes I don’t handle it very well. Wednesday was one of those days. I’ve recovered (mostly), and am ready to plow ahead. Hopefully my Friday post will be an author interview. Next Monday, maybe I’ll be able to report good things about DLA and PTR.

miscellaneous

Weary

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Every time I start thinking about being able to devote more time to writing, something in my life blows up. Some days I grow so weary in well-doing I don’t see much reason to care. That’s where I am right now.

Maybe all will seem better in a few days. I hope so.

Right now I have six works in progress, and don’t give a you know what whether I finish them or not.

 I won’t be posting on Friday this week. Maybe not for a while.

family, Meade, miscellaneous, Mom

Mourning—It Never Gets Easier

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Snow is always beautiful, but not always enjoyable. It can be deadly with the right combination of circumstances.
Snow is always beautiful, but not always enjoyable. It can be deadly with the right combination of circumstances.

Feb 10, 1948.  A beautiful, Spring-like day in southwestern Kansas. That evening, three young people headed from Meade to Fowler, adjacent towns between Dodge City and Fowler in Meade County, to attend a dinner among friends. Alas, weather predictions being what they were in 1948, they didn’t know a massive blizzard was just over the horizon. It started snowing while they were eating dinner. Later, around 10 p,m., the three decided to drive the 10 miles back to Meade. They didn’t make it; all three perished in the blizzard.

Saturday just passed was the 69th anniversary of when the first of the bodies was found. I think. Records aren’t clear, memories of things that old are few and fading. Most likely the three died on the 11th, though their bodies might not have been found until the 12th or 13th.

Esther, almost 69 years later.
Esther, almost 69 years later.

Two of those who died are the younger sisters of my mother-in-law, Esther Barnes. I had heard bits and pieces of the story over the years. About 18 months ago I asked Esther if she would talk with me about it, and let me write the story for the Meade Historical Society website. She said yes, and I interviewed her in our house over a couple of days.  It took me a few months to complete and sent to the Historical Society for them to upload. You can read it here. If for some reason that link doesn’t work for you (looks funny to me), try this for the index and click through to the story.

When I interviewed Esther it was 67 years after the event. I knew it would be painful for her, and it was. But she gave me the details she knew about, most of which she heard from someone. She lived in Fowler at the time, newly married and with a 9 month old son. They had no phone, so she only heard about it days later as the news got around.

Two of her three sisters are gone, but she has her grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
Two of her three sisters are gone, but she has her grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

Saturday was the 69th anniversary of that event. At the supper table, Esther said, “I still think about the girls,” by which she meant the sisters. Several times during our meal she teared up. 69 years, and still the mourning goes on.

I understand this. It’s been 51 years since my mother’s death, and I still think of her most days, and wonder what life would have been like if she hadn’t had the terrible illnesses and died from them at age 46. It certainly would have been different. Yes, the years have deadened the mourning some, but it’s still there.

I’m not sure there’s really a point to this post. It’s just something that I want to share.

Oh, if you get to the Meade Historical Society site, you’ll notice the article is listed at the “Buzzard of 1948”. I just notice that, and will ask them to fix it. If you read the article there, you’ll find a number of typos and an some awkward formatting. I remember fixing those, so I must have sent them the wrong file, because I remember fixing those items. Just suffer through them. I’ll find the right file and send it for re-uploading.

memories, miscellaneous

Finding Beauty

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backyard-18-dec-2016
Our backyard; 18 Dec 2016

Tomorrow I will turn 65. There’s not much beauty in that age anymore. It used to be that you  could retire at 65 with full benefits. Alas, the “Normal Retirement Age” for my birth year is 66. And, of course, since retirement is more a question of money than of age, I figure on working till I reach 67.

This week my brother-in-law has been with us, as we prepared for the trip to Oklahoma City that we’re currently on. He’s staying behind at our house with his mom, my mother-in-law. He, his mom, and my wife, when they get together, talk about the hometown and who’s alive, who’s dead, where someone lived and moved to, who so and so is, etc. It’s interesting to listen to, but I can’t participate much. I know some of the names, as I’ve been in the family over forty years now, but I’m still not a full participant in those conversations.

Anyhow, at some point this last week, one of them (I think my mother-in-law) said, “What a dreary place western Kansas is.” [approximate quote] I’ve heard that before from her, and from her children. In the past I’ve said I find much beauty in the stark plains of Kansas, but this time I said nothing.

It’s true, however. I do find much beauty in the prairie, even the high plains, where the trees are few, vegetation limited, lakes mostly absent, the riverbeds mostly dry, and the towns ten to twenty miles apart. I got my first glimpse of the Kansas prairies in 1974 when I made the short drive from Kansas City to Lawrence. But, that’s eastern Kansas, which even then was seeing development. I had my introduction to the central Kansas Flint Hills area in May 1975 and western Kansas in October 1975. I loved both areas. They have a stark beauty. Perhaps, had I grown up there, I would feel differently. But as one who married into a Kansas family, I found it beautiful.

So, this got me to thinking about the beauty of the world—really of the universe—in its many locations. Having grown up in the eastern megalopolis, I was always amid a manmade environment. When I made my drive west in 1974 to take up my job and residence in Kansas City, I couldn’t believe the beauty of the endless mountain chains in Pennsylvania. Driving through Akron I found beauty in the tire plants on both sides of the Interstate, a different built environment than I was used to. Central Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois each had their own kind of beauty, mostly rural as seen from the (then) relatively new interstate highways. Missouri was an eye-opener, as for the first time in my life I saw frontage roads, seeing three or four miles from one hill peak to the next, and I found it all beautiful. A few months later and I added Kansas to the list of the USA’s beautiful places.

Years later came Saudi Arabia, Europe, North Carolina, Kuwait, several countries in Asia, then Arkansas. And in each place I found a different kind of beauty. The deserts I found beautiful. The dense hardwood forests of Arkansas and the mixed hardwood-softwood forests of North Carolina were equally beautiful. At some point I made the first of several trips to New York City. There, in the concrete jungle, I found beautiful architecture and other things to admire.

So what am I saying? That beauty is in the eye of the beholder? Maybe, at least a little. I think though, rather, I’m saying that you find beauty by looking for beauty in your circumstances. Those circumstances might require you to redefine what beauty is. Which is a good thing, I think. I’ve done that several times in my life, and may do so again some day.

I don’t know that I’ll be able to find beauty in every situation, every location. But I’m up for trying.

Christmas, miscellaneous, Preserve The Revelation, technology woes, Writing

A Long Weekend

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The house is decorated for Christmas; though, the Christmas tree could use another string of lights. I’ll look at that later this morning.

Menus are not fully planned; though Christmas day we’ll eat at a nearby retirement home, the one my mother-in-law lived at before she came to live with us. I bought a turkey, which we’ll have on Monday. I’ve got to have a second turkey dinner cooked at home this year.

My new computer hook up is complete! Shortly after Thanksgiving I bought a new laptop to replace my ancient desktop. Our IT guy said to buy a docking station so that I could hook up my extra monitors and easily take my laptop when I needed to go. I couldn’t get it all to work. Yesterday at work he walked me through the procedure. Last night I did it, and poof! It’s all working. So I have three monitors looking back at me. Blog on the left, spreadsheet in the middle, stock chart on the right. When I begin my day’s writing activities that will be on the right. I think. I’m still trying to figure out what’s best. I’m not quite done with all the computer hook-ups. I still have the printer to work on. Hopefully today I’ll get that set up. It’s a wireless printer, and supposedly I just plug it in, turn it on, and all my computer will be able to recognize it and print to it. We’ll see.

So, as you can tell I’m at home today. And I will be on Monday, both holidays for the company. A four day weekend is just what I needed, as I was becoming melancholy and lethargic. Some time away from the routine should do me good. My wife returned from Oklahoma City last night, which is good. My brother-in-law is driving in today. So the Christmas gathering will be complete. Not much to do today. Maybe a little grocery shopping. I even cleaned the house pretty good yesterday, so there’s not much cleaning to do.

Hopefully I’ll get to take a walk today, although rain is almost upon us, so we’ll have to see. Hopefully I’ll be able to find time to write 1000 or 2000 words in my novel. That would be grand. Doing so each day of the weekend would be grand as well.

I’m in The Dungeon, and hear stirring up above, so think I’ll head upstairs, get another cup of coffee, and be sociable. I’ll be back.

Christmas, miscellaneous, trials, Writing

Can’t Get Excited

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Can’t get excited about blogging.

Can’t get excited about Christmas.

Can’t get excited about work.

Can’t get excited about writing.

Can’t get excited about life in general.

I’m not sure what it’s going to take to snap me out of this. I know I will. It might have to wait till after Christmas. I don’t know why, but I’ve never warmed up to Christmas. We are way past the days of Christmas busyness, with the kids gone. Maybe it’s the incredibly gaudy commercialism of the holiday. But I can almost say I can’t stand Christmas. It’s not quite that bad, but it’s close.

In the last week writing has taken a back seat to busyness of tasks and weariness of mind. The tasks are not yet done. I replaced two old computers with laptops, for which I already have extra monitors. But, even though I bought docking stations for the monitors, I can’t figure out how to get them connected. Everything is connected, but how do I get the computer to know the monitors are there? I guess I’ll figure it out. But until I do I can’t decommission the old computers. With that hanging over me, I don’t feel like doing much of anything.

So, I’ll make this blog post, listen to a little doo-wop, and head upstairs for reading. Hopefully I’ll be able to write some day soon.

memories, miscellaneous, Wisdom from Dad

Wisdom From Dad – A Peck of Dirt

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About 1934
About 1934

Wisdom from My Dad – A Peck Of Dirt

My dad, Norman Todd, was a smart man. No, he didn’t have a great education. He quit public school after eighth grade, which was sort of a standard for many people around 1930. He went to work for “Old Man Angel” in East Providence, Rhode Island, as a farm hand. He worked the five weekdays and a half day on Saturday, and for this he got “a dollar a day plus my dinner” (by which he meant lunch). I’ll talk more about that in a future edition of Wisdom From My Dad.

He didn’t stay out of school, however. He entered a trade school to learn the trade of a linotype operator. When he finished, he started work at this trade, and worked at it till his forced early retirement at age 60, interrupted only by his time in the army during World War 2.

As I said, though only moderately well educated, Dad was smart. He had these sayings he used to say. One of them was “You have to eat a peck of dirt before you croak.”

I never asked him to elaborate on that. And I’m not sure whether this was one of those things he said to be witty, or if he really believed it. But I see in it a lot of wisdom. A lot of people will recoil at the idea of eating a peck of dirt. For those who don’t know, a peck is two gallons (eight quarts). Unless you’re an unsupervised and adventurous kid playing in mud puddles, you’re going to ingest this dirt grain by grain over the years. A lot of food goes in, along with a little dirt. You don’t notice the dirt.

So, is there any wisdom in Dad’s saying? Do you actually have to eat a peck of dirt before you can hang up your cares in this world and move on to the next?

To me, it means you have to live life. Don’t shrink back and be a wallflower. Don’t let others run your life. It might also mean don’t avoid things in life that are messy. Not everything you need or want comes in a pretty box with a bow on it. Sometimes you must get your hands dirty to accomplish anything.

I wonder if it also can be taken literally. Not everything you eat or drink is pure. Some of it has dirt on it. Eat it anyway. The dirt and a few germs will make you stronger. We have a tendency now to try to make our personal environment as sterile as possible. In a noon hour class yesterday I watched a man go to adjust the thermostat when several people complained about the temperature in the room. He took a key from his pocket and tapped the thermostat key. I thought that was odd. Then I remembered this is a guy who touches nothing in a bathroom without a paper towel covering his hand. When he washes his hands he turns the water on full blast for a minute or more, scouring his hand until the last germ he might have encountered has reached a distant sewer. He fears picking up a germ on the thermostat button, so he won’t touch it directly. Of course, no germs would be transferred from the button to the key to his pocket and later to his hand.

Can we totally avoid germs in our lives? I don’t think so. Should we take reasonable efforts to avoid contacting germs? Yes, for sure. Should we take extreme measures to avoid contacting germs? I think, for the normal person with normally functioning immune system, germ avoidance can indeed be taken to an extreme. Take in a few germs; build up some anti-bodies; keep stressing that immune system to help it grow stronger; get your hands dirty; live a long life.

Thanks, Dad, for this bit of wisdom.