Is it Still Christmas

As a kid growing up in Hawaii Christmas seem to last for several months. Gifts came by way of a 5 day ship trip. But depending on postage rate you chose it could take 14 to 60 days. And relatives would send things three months early to 5 days before Christmas so it went on for quite a while. It is now 4 days after December 25. Is it still Christmas? If you celebrate this day as Jesus' birthday you are probably aware it wasn't likely the 25 of December and therefore, to avoid missing it we should probably celebrate every day. If you celebrate the day as a day to "give" we should probably have an attitude of "giving" every day. I regularly hear we should remember every day that Christ will come to our hearts and reside. I know. My first reaction was "Yes, of COURSE!" My second reaction was "I wonder if we have any Little Debbies left." My third reaction was "Wait a minute, what did the question mean and what did I mean?" (You might guess I strongly desire clarity.) Jesus. In me. Every day. No, an xray of me won't show an image of Him. But what others see me DO could show Him. As a manager, it happens: - when I talk to a staff member about a behavioral problem- - when I talk to a difficult patient - when I make a policy decision - when I make a charging, pricing, coding, or compliance decision - when I have to deal with a difficult peer on an issue that may not have a win-win solution. Was someone able to quietly say "oh, that is what Jesus is like?" Of course if to you Christmas revolves around the new leather jacket you wanted and did or didn't get, I guess Christmas is over until next year this time.

Uncle Bill Richey

As I spend the day painting our house inside I can't help but think of my Uncle Bill Richey whose house we would visit each summer for family reunions. He was a house painter. I don't think I ever saw him painting but I remember the brushes, paint cans, ladders, canvasses, the smell of paint and thinner around the garage. I remember how old he looked with knarelled hands from years of painting. Today I'm priming the upstairs hall and stairway. As I'm painting the smells and tools bring back the memories of opening that garage door, picking up some of his tools and holding them, and dreaming of someday being a heroic housepainter like him. Imagine being able to transform an old looking room into something new. Then later I had a career painting. Well, it was a couple of weeks painting Mrs. Yamashiro's Beritania Street apartments. "Heroic" sort of escaped me. But transformation was still a marvelous thing to behold. Now I wonder what Uncle Bill would think of us sissies who need easy clean up latex, Home Depot "experts", "I think I cut myself. No, not there, here. See, I think that is blood," airless sprayers, "ow my neck hurts from looking up," "where's my ice tea," "ow, I got something in my eye," "I think I'm almost done?" I become determined to do better. Maybe I'll start a second career . . . .

Teach Your Children Well

I thought I had done such a good job. "Children, you want to grab every opportunity that comes your way. Expand your horizons. Learn new things. Eat a balanced diet."

Children got older. They went to school and learned. Finally they walked away with degrees and degrees. And it all started going south. Literally.

Number One son took his computer programing and software design seriously and after a few years in Hawaii and California, took his family and was recruited to Australia. Number one daughter ran off with husband to California and now has her family and a hectic life in San Antonio. Ummm, maybe I didn't mean expand horizons quite that far away.

Now, tonight, we will watch our other Number One daughter get on a plane and be off to Peru to seek her dream. She has her first job out of college (other than the year of volunteer work in Brazil) many miles away. At a university in Lima.

A sad father reflects: why did they have to take me so seriously? why did they pick up on THIS so well? But what would I say if I could start over?

Persistence - A Dog's Tail

“Nothing in this world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful people with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent. The slogan 'press on' has solved and always will solve the problems of the human race” --Calvin Coolidge


Our shelty of 8 years died. We were dogless. Lois started not liking being dogless. Enter Craigslist.

We drove home Sunday with the friendliest, lovingest dog. An English Springer Spaniel - a champion purebreed. (But we will be raising her as a commoner - no papers.) We were told she likes to fetch a ball.

So for 2 hours we threw a ball and she fetched. When we came in the house she followed us around with the ball in her mouth. For several hours. She kept dropping it at our feet. When we didn't catch on, she picked it up and dropped it again. And again. You get the idea.

She slept on our bed the first night. By the second night we had a bed for her over in the corner. We had settled down "for a long summer's nap" when I felt something poking me in the back. I reached under me and pulled out -- a ball. I looked to the side and over the edge of the bed were two pleading eyes looking at me. At 11 o'clock at night. Lois was washing dishes and Darcy got up on her hind legs and gently balance the ball on the lip of the sink. I'm picking beans in the garden and suddenly see a green tennis ball rolling under the leaves toward me. Cut to the brown eyes at the end of the row.
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It gets better. This morning as Lois finished her shower she noticed Darcy right outside the door. As soon as she slid it open Darcy placed the ball on the sliding door track and looked up :) Later as Lois was unloading the dishwasher she turned back from putting some glasses away and there was a ball resting innocently on the open dishwasher door.

I have a feeling I could bore for a few years to come. But the persistence of this canine sort of reminded of the parable of the pleading woman and the unrighteous judge. The value of persistence. Nothing worthwhile has ever accomplished by "almost" sticking with it long enough. Maybe the best example is the gambler who sticks with the game until his luck changes. OK, maybe not something to emulate, but hopefully you see what I think I mean.

God grant me the patience/persistence/perseverance/focus/single-mindedness to stick with/learn/do/stop doing, whatever it is that needs doing/holds me back/tears me or someone else down/builds up/prevents good.

Tomorrow for the Office Potluck

Ingredients
Coconut Milk, 2 each 16 oz cans
Water, 3 cups
Cornstarch, 6 oz
Sugar, 1 cup
Instructions
1.
Mix 2 cups water with cornstarch. Set aside.
2.
Bring coconut milk, sugar and remaining water to a rolling boil on high heat.
3.
Pour cornstarch mixture into boiling coconut milk and cook till mixture thickens, blending with a whip.
4.
When mixture is smooth and thick pour into a clean baking tray.
5.
Cool to room temperature, then chill until cold.
6.
Cut into 1-inch squares.


What is it? Make it and if you are not from Hawaii you can message me and I'll spell it.

Orange Surprise

I walked in the house and I smelled them before I saw them. You know how certain aromas take you back to somewhere in the past?

It was 1959. The orange trees in the grove behind our house were heavy with fruit. Every day the adventure was to squeeze between the posts of the fence and wander through the grove. There were many on the ground already, full of juice. Every one I picked up was delicious - somewhat different from the last. But the common traits - sweet, tart, aromatic, juice, seeds - burned somewhere into my first grader's mind. Those memories would never leave.

Enter Elizabeth Barrett Snooks. High school friend. I've seen her once or twice in the 40+ years since. Somewhat connected again on Facebook a year or so ago. The other day on her wall she was talking about picking fresh oranges outside her house. The flood of rememberences came back to me. I said how good that sounded.

The next day she messaged she would send me a box. AND SHE DID! WOW! Within a few days, fresh from the tree, still smelling tree ripened, full juiced, easy peeling, not painted-on-orange-colored, even a few little bug spots (just to show they were not store-perfect but the real thing), sweet with just the right tart oranges! Don't tell me you can't find heaven in Iowa.

The tasty morsels are half gone. My self imposed limit of two is adhered to. Or was on a couple of days. As the bottom of the package becomes more visible I think back on the kindness shown. Thank you for the oranges. But even more important. Something prompted Liz to do that. To make someone's day. I like that. Liz, you encourage me to make someone's day tomorrow. I will be on the lookout.

Postponing the Inevitable - Getting Older

When the kids were young (younger) Easter Egg hunts were a highlight comparable to Christmas. As they got older they still liked the opportunity for sugar and the competition of finding the biggest and mostest. Even when they were in high school.

Since two of three are now out of the house (and the third only here because I keep hanging on) it seems a bit of a stretch to say I still have children. Now I have 3 adults.

Except on Easter. Because Angela is still here this week I imagined (at least in my mind) she would enjoy an Easter Egg hunt. So got the whole 9 yards. Picture proves it. When I'm farther removed from this nostalgia, I'll apologize to Angela for making her do this. Then broadcasting it. But for a few hours, I'll savor.