???

???

Bounces

Wednesday, October 31st, 2018

Sometime last month I was cleaning off my nightstand and found a bouncyball. It was maybe an inch and a half in diameter, and it seemed to be in a sad state of non-bounce, probably due to the fact that it hadn't been bounced in a while. So I went out to my patio to try it out and was not at all disappointed at its bounciness. I threw it to the concrete, it bounced up and then off the side of the apartment and then back to my hands. It was a rather ethereal experience. But then, disaster. I put a little too much force on it, and the ball bounced up and onto the roof and didn't come back down! Sadness. So I climbed up and retrieved it, making a mental note not to bounce it that hard, since I didn't care to go through all the trouble of recovering it again. But then again.... something about the taste of a powerful bounce made me crave more. Not wanting to repeat the earlier incident, I ran out into the parking lot to give it a try. I threw it down with all my might and up, up, up it went, high enough to inspire naught but sheer delight in my innermost heart.

This was not a discovery of bliss I could keep to myself, so I ran back inside and told Froh, "Come outside Froh, I gotta show you something!" He asked what it was but I wouldn't tell him and simply chanted, "Come on, come on, come on!" He got up from the couch and followed me out, though not as fast as I'd've liked, and maybe there was a bit of disinterest there as well. I mean, he did have some reading to do. But all those thoughts vanished from his mind when he saw The Bounce. A look of sheer youthful delight broadened his face into a wide grinning smile as he saw the bouncyball soar high into the sky. He gave it a go and we both laughed at the sheer joy of it all. We spent several minutes out in the parking lot bouncing the ball insanely high to each other, until one misplaced bounce landed the ball at the road, and then it proceed on to roll to the other side the road. I ran across to get it and was instantly hit, not by a car, but an idea: I'd bounce it all the way back across the road! As I wound up for the bounce, a car crested the hill and made it's way towards us. I jumped up and threw the ball down, but unfortunately at a terrible angle. It's trajectory was less than optimal, and as it made it's way back down to earth it seemed like it wouldn't even make it across the road, let alone all the way to Froh. That car kept coming, the ball kept falling, and it almost looked as if... PLUNK! the bouncyball struck the roof of the car and then bounced off into the grass on the other side.

I let out a hearty laugh at the improbability of it, and the car got really offended and slowed WAY down, almost to a halt. It didn't quite know what had happened, but it was blaming me. I mocked the car (in my head, of course, and 5/8s in jest), saying that he was a cheap junker and the bouncyball couldn't possibly have left a dent anyways, and that he was just being silly for getting so offended. He wasn't quite convinced though and came to a full stop, and it looked like he would turn around and give me a piece of his mind, but then another car came up behind him and wondered why he was taking so long, and then they both moved on. Stupid car.... hahae, cars these days.. they don't make 'em how they used to.

Anyways, Froh and I bounced around a little longer before an even better idea struck me: how about bounce it over the apartments! I wound up for the shot, ran, jumped, and threw down. The bouncyball soared at a perfect trajectory, bounced off the top of the roof, then down off the other side out of view. Froh and I ran with glee to see how good the results were, and there, sitting innocently on our back patio, was the bouncyball. We congratulated ourselves on all the fun we had and then called it a day and went back to work.

Pitchforkin' Away

Summer, 2012

I stood in the cool mid-morning breeze and looked at the labryinthine barn, pitchfork in hand. It was a series of sheds connected by other sheds, decades' worth of add-ons and additions. Who knew how far back it went, it was hard to tell. What I did know was that there was a large flock of goats who made their abode there, as well as an impressive amount of manure; and, as you may have guessed, that's why I was there. Upon entering, I discovered the extent of the need to get the manure mucked out: in some places it was a mere six inches deep, in others, a foot. I was getting paid by the job, which meant the quicker I got it done, the quicker I could get out of there, so I set to. It didn't smell too bad at first, but once you got all that straw mixed with months of goat urine and droppings thrown around a bit, the dust became oppressive and the smell repugnant. My trusty wheelbarrow didn't fail me though, and together we moved load after load to the large trailer hooked up to the tractor out front.

After a good while I made it to the largest area of the shed compilation. Besides an astounding amount of muck, this one particular stall also had a very oddly placed metal beam, about an eighth inch wide, connected the ceiling to the base of one of the walls. I wondered why in the world they decided to build it that way, but since the whole shed-upon-shed thing was already weird enough, I didn't think too much about this strange metal beam and set to work. I avoided the beam the whole time, which kind of got annoying since it cut straight through the stall and made it somewhat awkward to maneuver around, but hey, what could I do. After that I moved on to the next stall, and then the next and the next. Finally, some time later, as I was taking out another wheelbarrow load, I noticed something fishy: the metal beam wasn't in the same place, it had moved slightly! I set the wheelbarrow done and moved in for a closer inspection. I got real close to the beam and looked at it intently.... hmm. I positioned my hand to grab the beam, then brought it in to take hold of it.. except... MY HAND WENT STRAIGHT THROUGH THE LITTLE METAL BEAM!! I had no idea what had just happened, I was totally shocked. I passed my hand effortlessly through it time and again, completely consumed in awe. And then, it struck me. I looked up and sure enough, there was a little hole in the tin roof, and the little metal beam was actually just sunlight. The air was so dusty that the bright sunlight on the obscenely high concentration of dust particles made it appear to be a solid physical object!

Some time later I had finally filled up that huge trailer and gotten every scrap of manure out of the shed-barn-conglomeration. All that was left to do was drive the tractor over to the dumping spot and offload it all; I was almost done! Not only that, but I was in fresh air again and didn't have to struggle to breath anymore. That, along with the fact of being almost done, urged me on to greater things and I started forking out the manure faster than I'd ever gone before. This hastiness may have been the main contributor to my demise. All at once I made a simple mistake: I tried to scoop up some manure that, unfortunately, my foot was under. I felt an odd feeling in my left foot, at the same time as my pitchfork came to an abrupt stop. My smile fell. I slowly looked down at my left foot. One of the forks had gone straight through my leather boot, in one side and clean out the other. And it wasn't just through the a little bit of it either: it entered near the middle of my foot area and exited at an angle toward my toe. AND I DIDN'T FEEL A THING. I gulped. My foot was probably so messed up that my pain registers had shut down to help me not go into shock or something. I winced, then tried to wiggle my toes... then my whole foot.. it felt great! I breathed a huge sigh of relief as a nervous laugh echoed ominously, resonating from.. well, myself I guess. I gave the pitchfork a solid tug, and yanked it out of my boot. There was no blood, and then I really believed my foot was fine. I continued working after that, but slower this time. I immediately decided to say not a word of this to anyone for at least three or five years. And I didn't. Not a word. Sometimes it's better for stories of danger and near-misses to age a little bit before one tells one's mother, for the safety and sanity of all.

Murphy's Law At Its Finest

On your average day, I'm one of those guys who really hates being stuck at a stoplight. I will go out of my way to avoid them, even if it means adding another minute or two to my drive. And for me, it's worth it. Today, however, was a different story. I turned left at a stop sign right after a copcar had done the same, except I had to wait for a few pedestrians to cross first. As such, he got to get to the redlight first and wait. I pulled up behind him a moment or two later. Immediately, I realized something was going wrong. There was a FedEx truck on the other side of the road, but he wasn't moving. He was stationary. Very stationary. I imagine he was busy delivering a package and that's why the truck was so stationary. Now, as scientific studies have shown, stationary vehicles are more than twice as likely to impede traffic flow when on roadways than their non-stationary peers. Now I, personally, can confirm that this study has at least some empirical evidence to back up its claims. There was a string of cars behind him waiting to get going, and then there was one car, the last one in line, who also tried to make the light and turn onto the clogged road. This didn't end so well. The light turned red and then traffic from the other direction had a fairly difficult time getting around this individual in the middle of the intersection. There were also two cars trying, and failing, to back out of their coffee shop parking spots. They couldn't accomplish their goal because myself, the copcar, and the car in front of him were stuck at the light. I also realized at that moment that had I noticed before pulling up behind the copcar that the FedEx truck was in fact stationary and there was a pile of cars behind him, I could've hugged the right side of the road so there'd be enough space for them to squeeze by and so solve the traffic problem that was developing. But unfortunately, I was not paying enough attention to notice this before a car pulled up behind me and locked me in position.

Well, it couldn't get much worse than this. At least the light was about to change. Finally, after what seemed like ages, we got the green. But you know what? The car in front of the copcar wanted to turn left, and guess who was still in the middle of the intersection blocking everything? You already know who it is. That Guy. So then the car who wanted to turn left did what any reasonable person would do under these circumstances: he gave up on going left and decided to go straight and slightly readjust his travel plans so that all the cars that had piled up behind me could get by. He took one for the team. Or at least, that what we all hoped he'd have done. In reality though, he decided he'd be better off if he just waited for the car to move so he could turn left like he wanted. Time passed. More cars piled up behind me and in the left turn lane of the other road. The light turned red. The cross-traffic painstakingly maneuvered themselves around That Guy in the intersection. Slowly. Finally, the cops in front of me had had enough. They threw open their doors and jumped out very determinedly. One headed for the car in front of them to tell them to go straight to alleviate traffic, while the other headed for the FedEx truck to get him to move ASAP. Now, I'd been laughing and chuckling to myself throughout this entire ordeal because it was just too much, but the cops actually getting out of their squad-car was the icing on the cake. Or was it? Just then the FedEx truck's engine roared to life and he started to lurch forward. The one cop, visibly frustrated, immediately turned around and called to his buddy, and they both hopped back in their car. As the line of cars finally drove on by, the cops honked angrily at That Guy who had managed to block the entire intersection. Soon enough the light changed again and everybody was stonefacedly going on their way, annoyed at the unnecessary stupidity and trafficjam. And then there was me, laughing my head off as I turned left and made it through just in time to hit the yellow light and make it up 6th street. Life is truly a joy, even with all its unforeseen roadblocks.

Still tho, don't be That Guy. Please.

Article 4, Section 2c

I have recently received several notes from various peoples asking where they can access the 'Handbook for Definitions of Commonly Politicized Vocabulary,' but unfortunately this Handbook is as of yet unfinished and so remains unpublished. It is therefore not yet open to the public. However, out of the deep magnanimity of my soul, as well as for the beneficence, moral uplifting, and overall well-being of my truly inquisitive readers whose curiosity is insatiable, I have decided to bequeath to them the portion of said handbook referenced in a previous manuscript of mine, that they might discover for themselves the intent with which I as of late spoke, and also that they might be saved from hearing a less accurate representation of the definition of the term they seek were they to hear my humble attempt to describe the matter in its fullness to them, such potential inaccuracies being due, not to any irrationality or fallacy in my reasoning, but rather to the frailty and infirmity of the cognitive faculties to recall all that has transpired to bring one to a particular conclusion and to communicate clearly and precisely the meaning one is attempting to convey. And so, without further ado, here is that portion of the 'Handbook for Definitions of Commonly Politicized Vocabulary' under question. For context, the entirety of Section 2 has been included.

Article 4, Section 2a

'Lady', in its broadest definition, is simply another term for 'woman', 'female of the human species', 'girl', and other such words. It is a bit higher in register compared to the examples just given, which makes it a suitable word to use when one finds oneself in high society. For, in such situations, one does not simply say, "That woman gave me a glass of champagne." Rather, one should say, "That lady over there was so kind as to give me this glass of champagne." For reasons such as these, the term 'lady' can be used in this more general sense of the word.

Section 2b

However, sometimes 'lady' has a narrower definition. Used in this fashion, one needs to be more than simply a female human being to be called a 'lady'. The sort of woman who merits to be called this must possess, if not all, at least several, of the traits and/or qualities here to be mentioned: She must be kind, know the difference between right and wrong and act accordingly, and be mentally tough. A lady holds herself respectably and appropriately in regard to the situation at hand. (This in no way implies the necessity of having an eternal air of stoicism; for a more complete treatment of this topic, refer to Article 1, Section 3 of this handbook.) She is always willing to help wherever she can, and she pays attention to those around her and offers words of encouragement when needed. She is an example of moral living and treats others how she herself would like to be treated. These are some of the qualities of a lady.

Section 2c

The definition of 'lady' in the previous section is fairly strenuous, and is by far the most narrow definition. It requires more than a casual glance to tell if a woman is a lady or not. This third definition strikes a middle ground between the other two usages, in that it still carries some, but not all, of the implied virtue of the second usage, and yet applies almost, though not quite, as extensively as the first. Basically, you assume a woman is a lady until she demonstrates otherwise. What ramifications does this have then? Shall we treat women differently on the grounds of whether they're a lady or not? I am going to presume that the person reading is this is in fact a lady or gentleman, which means that, by definition, they will treat people as they would themselves like to be treated. So no, there shouldn't be too much of a difference. What about greeting people in the marketplace then? Did what we say about greeting various people based on whether they were this type of person, or that type of person, or a lady, mean anything at all? Well, yes and no. In effect, you will end up greeting women as if they were ladies, even if they aren't. This may seem to nullify the distinctions we made regarding various usages of the term 'lady', and maybe it does. Perhaps there is no discrepancy between 'lady' and 'woman' besides one being in a higher register. But I would like to posit that there is still a bit of truth behind my thinking. In the right context, calling someone a lady can be a high form of praise to their character, or, on the other hand, a simple gesture of goodwill in assuming the best of someone.

Section 2d

The attentive reader might then ask two questions: "What if I myself am a lady, how then should I greet other ladies?" To which I would reply that, not being a lady myself and not having done much thought on this angle of the discussion, I don't know. Go ask your mother or a person whose opinion you respect on the matter. And the second question they might ask is: "Why did we even bring up this whole discussion to begin with? Might it have been easier to just simply state "In the right context, calling someone a lady can be a high form of praise to their character, or, on the other hand, a simple gesture of goodwill in assuming the best of someone." from the get-go?" Yes. It would have been easier. But it would also have been much less profitable to everyone involved, myself included. It is a good thing to reason through why we do some of the things we do instead of simply just doing them. That way we can more fully understand what's actually going on, and sometimes even conclude that we're doing it wrong. Intuition is great, but when combined with reasoning to understand why it seems right, it's even better. Perhaps someone will point out an inaccuracy in my current way of thinking, and I'll have to come back and change or add to what I've written. And that's fine. It's part of the process of becoming wise. My hope is that this has been a good exercise in the cultivation of wisdom, and that we will sharpen our reasoning capabilities through thinking about why we do the things we do.

How To Greet People 101

It is not uncommon for two people to greet one other when they see each other in the marketplace, or around town, or anywhere for that matter. Especially if these two people know each other, and even more so if they deem each other friends. But what sort of greeting is appropriate for each scenario? Are there more situations that would require a different sort of greeting? Everybody has their own unique answers to these questions, even if they haven't considered them directly. Here, though, I will tell you my thoughts on the subject, and explain why I greet people the way I do.

1. Greeting Random People

First off, I'll mention that sometimes this is necessary (or at least called for). Perhaps you were looking at them somewhat more intently than usual because they looked like someone you know, but it turns out they were just some random person. And then they notice you staring at them. You might want to greet them in some form or fashion to avoid social awkwardness. This reason also applies for those times when you make eye contact with people as you walk by. All that to say, greeting random people can be justified. So, if I'm going to greet a stranger, I first ask myself a few questions before greeting them:

1. Are they by a significant margin my elder?  = significant downward nod

2. Are they significantly younger than me?  = slight upward nod

3. Are they a potential threat?  = slight click of the mouth, no-nonsense facial expression

4. Are they my equal?  = slight upward nod

5. Are they a lady?  = significant downward nod

[PLEASE NOTE: 'Lady' is a specific term and is not synonymous with 'woman', 'girl', or 'person of the feminine gender'. Used in this particular context, it has an even narrower domain than how I usually use the term. For more details on my usage of this term in the context of this writing, please refer to Article 4, Section 2c of the 'Handbook for Definitions of Commonly Politicized Vocabulary,' or contact the author directly during standard business hours, 9am-5pm, Mon-Fri.]

2. Greeting People You Know

This category is much the same as greeting random people, but with a few exceptions:

1. Are they by a significant margin my elder or my superior?  = significant downward nod, pleasant smile/grin if appropriate

2. Are they significantly younger than me or my inferior?  = significant upward nod, smile of approbation

3. Are they a potential threat?  = slight click of the mouth, no-nonsense facial expression

4. Are they my equal?  = upward nod, smile/grin if appropriate

5. Are they a lady?  = significant downward nod

3. Greeting Friends

If you happen to have any special greeting with a particular friend, this is the time to use it. Otherwise... give them a very exaggerated significant upward nod, and hold your head back for a brief moment. This is a sure sign of friendship, for by revealing your jugular veins you put yourself in a unique place of vulnerability and thus demonstrate the strong trust you have with that friend.

Alpacas, Jex, and Lambdas

Saturday, August 25, 2018

I looked at the counter. Amongst a host of standard issue counter-top items sat a pair of salt and pepper shakers. But these weren't you're average ordinary everyday S.A.P. shakers, no; they were two little alpacas, one white and one brown. I stopped mid-sentence and had to point out how wonderful they were to Brooke. They were objectively cute, there was no way a person could deny it. If I ever get around to buying S.A.P shakers, I'd definitely try to find some like these.

Later, I finished taking Jex on a walk. She got sprayed by a skunk. Again. *sigh.. But as I started walking away, I turned my head for one last look. There she was, sitting in the opening of the gate, ears perked, eyes full of longing, begging for me not to leave; she was the canine epitome of quintessential pulchritude. I wanted to turn around and pet her one more time, but, having already did this once, had to keep walking and leave her behind.

At dinnertime, I asked what everybody's favorite Greek letter was. Some said Ξ, others said Σ, or θ, but I will never be wavered from holding it to be true in my mind that λ is by far the best and cutest of the letters. Lambda is just objectively perfect.

A Day Off Work (Almost)

Friday 27th, 2018

I don't usually get paid to go hiking up a mountain, but when I do, I doubly enjoy every second of it.

It started as an average payday. I awoke at 3:20am with enough time to pack a lunch and drive all the way to Casper to be on time for the safety meeting. There was plenty of amusing conversation before we got started, probably the most notable of which were the comments when Lorne walked in. Lorne is a 50-something year-old guy who's been working here for at least twenty years. It was his day off today though, so he didn't come in his work clothes, because he only had to be there for the safety meeting and that was it. And therein lay the problem. When he walked in, he was wearing khaki shorts with a matching Hawaiian short-sleeve shirt with sandals and hat to boot. It was... something. We definitely weren't prepared for it. Somebody said, "I could've gone all day without seeing that, Lorne!" We all laughed and joked about it for a bit.

After the safety meeting we all were handed our paychecks. Besides only getting paid for 98.5 hours for two weeks of work instead of the correct 145 hours, it went off without a hitch. But I didn't let that dampen my spirits at all, this was going to be a great day; hopefully we'll get the hours fixed later. Anyways, everybody else loaded up and left, leaving Kylie and I behind. We had to go to a different location today to do a little job real quick that should only take a day to do. Kylie started telling Van (the big boss man) about how excited I was for this job, and how I'd specifically asked Kyle (our foreman) to get put on this job. Even after they both told me how steep it was, and how it might rain and be super muddy, I was just as stoked, if not more so. Van then said, "You know there is such a thing as a suspicion-of-use drug test, right? We might have to send you down to Cedar's Health today." hahae, it was pretty funny. After that Van ended up showing me how you can text a picture to an email account. My mind was blown at this new prospect of technological prowess, and it worked! Van and Kylie were pretty amused at my lack of tech-acumen, especially for being a twenty-something college student. Kylie said, laughing, "That's why I love working with this guy! You get stuff like this all the time!" Eventually though it was time to head out to the mountain. First though we had to wait for the dump to open at 7:30, so we basically sat around for another hour before leaving. Besides getting lost in the dump for half an hour and not knowing where to dump our trash, it went off without a hitch.

By and by we made it to the main event of the day. We pulled up a little gravel driveway-like thing that stopped close to the base of Casper Mountain. From there on it was just a pipeline right-of-way leading up and over the mountain. A good ways up there was a parked excavator where they had dug to reveal the pipeline beneath. There was a knick in the pipe that needed to get fixed, so they were going to cut out 28 inches of pipe and replace it with some new stuff. This of course required a welder. And everybody knows that welders require welding machines. This is slightly problematic, because welding machines weigh several thousand pounds and are not moved up steep mountains easily. Even if they're in the back of the welder's truck. This grade was simply too steep to drive up with anything but a trackhoe, and that's why we were there. Since the welding machine couldn't make it up there, we'd have to drag a couple hundred feet of leads up there so he could connect his machine to them at the bottom and weld with them up top. It was going to be a great hike!

Kylie and I each threw half the leads on our shoulders and we started up. By the time we got to the bottom of the part where it got really steep, we had to take a quick breather. And then the real fun began. It wasn't quite so steep that you needed to climb it with your hands, but it was steep enough that if you didn't lean forward dramatically the weight of the leads would pull you backwards and make you tumble down the mountain at a decent speed. How do I know this? Well actually I just decided it was true at the moment I was teetering on the edge of my balance and was wondering what would happen if I fell backwards. Imagination is a great motivator, and so I didn't actually lose my balance and fall backwards, but I'm still convinced it would've been fun for about five seconds before it started to hurt. Anyways, we made it to the top without incident. Besides the leads being all tangled up and having to untie them for twenty minutes, it went off without a hitch and we strung them out down the mountain successfully.

After that we had a little bit of barb-wire installation to do and a little of gravel-grading as well, and by the time we were done with that it was almost one o'clock. Now all we had to do was tow the broken-down truck that was there back to the shop. We found a clevice and got the towline we had brought, and thankfully both trucks had tow hooks on them, so it went on without a hitch. Then it was only a matter of driving down the mountain in a truck with manual steering and manual brakes being towed with a short rope. It's been a couple years since I've gotten to do this, so it was fun to drive it again.

And that was about it. We got off early at two for a nine hour day and that was that. It felt like a day off! Now I'm all rested up to hit it hard tomorrow morning when I get back to work. Lez do it!

Land Of The Half-Remembered

Wednesday, July 11, 2018

A transitory gleam chanced to reveal its presence through the window pane. It passed almost as quickly as it came, but even in such a short amount of time it managed to steal something from you: drowsiness. Interest piqued, you approach the door to the outer realm and with outstretched hand gave it a turn and a push. It glides open noiselessly, letting the cool night air in with such an ever slight motion that one would hardly have noticed it except for the stillness of the night. A lonely insect hums in a clump of grass. Others join him. What was it that drew you out here this late at night? You aren't quite sure. Perhaps nobody will ever know. Nevertheless, you stand there waiting, waiting for something to happen. Then of a sudden, it happens. A small gust of wind presses against the grass and sends it waving in so many spirals like the waves of the sea at dawn. A scent wafts along with that breath of wind, a scent that reminds you of something, but you can't quite put your finger down on it. You take another deep breath and.... there it is. You remember. Rain. A storm is brewing. It's not quite there yet, but you know it's coming. The night has betrayed itself, its intentions are known. The Silence and the utter Darkness have declared it and the Wind and the Grass have both confirmed it.

And then, a flicker. For a second the entire world is alight, you see two trees standing a ways away. They seem fairly close, and slightly tall. And then there's also... something. There's something else out there that you didn't have time to see, but it is dark once again. And you must see it. You wait. A dozen seconds pass, and you catch another glimpse; it's just a far off treeline making it's way across the horizon. Gazelles are over there somewhere all bedded down, and the ducks have surely taken refuge as well. And it's a good thing too, for there was something else you saw that was dark and foreboding, snaking its way along daring anyone to dare and cross its path. He swallows things whole, takes them away, and no-one ever sees them again. He is a beast. Another flash among the shapeless clouds above, and... you were wrong. He was not at all ominous, he was a river. But it was a sad river that wound its way through the darkness. STRIKE! A bolt of Lightning deigns to descend from the upper reaches of the sky and strike some distant object. The sheer power of it leaves you in awe, and moments later the thunder rolls across the sky and echos into the night. And then another strike. And another. It's a lightning storm; there's dark, foreboding clouds and even some wind, but nary a drop of rain. The lightning keeps up, the land is almost continually bright. Your attention is bound and captive, and you just stare as lightning bolt after lightning bolt strikes the ground in the distance. Some of the lightning just bounces between the clouds like a game of pinball. And the Thunder. It's almost as if two armies are shooting off round after round of artillery fire, each trying to outdo the other.

Then there is a slight pause in the storm. Things are beginning to slow down, the lightning is coming less and less often. And then... KKRRFLAM!!! Lightning strikes just on the other side of the river, and the thunder takes no pause but immediately sounds out in a deafening boom. You jump up off the ground as your head snaps to the left in the direction from which it came. Your heart beats faster than when you hear your name being called out by that Special Someone. Your nerves are shattered by the unexpected savagery of the lightning. You tremble. You had let your guard down, and at that moment, it struck.

A drop of water hits the ground in front of you, and then another. It starts slow, but grows steadier and steadier. Now comes the rain. The lightning decides to come back again, and the wind picks up its pace and brings even more rain on its tail. Things are now set in motion that cannot be undone. You are about to witness The Storm. A chill goes down your spine at the long anticipated arrival; here it comes. You stand out in what has become the cold, and the rain soaks into your skin and soon you are wet. But you don't care, and just stand there and stare. It's amazing. It's beautiful. It's all it was meant to be. And while the rest of the world has given itself up to slumber, here you are, the sole witness to a microcosm of God's glory. And behold, it was Very Good.

How To Set Guards 101

Tuesday, June 26th, 2018

Hello class, for the first segment of our new series on how to properly set and install guard rails properly while following all the mandatory requirements that are not optional to follow, we will be watching a six and a half hour instructional video of how NOT to do it, and point out what should have been down instead as we go along. Wait, what's that? Our VHS is out of commission? Well in that case, go ahead and read this summary, it should prepare you well enough for the quiz at the start of next week's class. Take one and pass it on!

Once upon a time, in a land not so far away for some, but far far away to others, there dwelt a pad devoid of any grass, mushroom, or flowering plant. Actually, there was only one flowering plant, and that's because there was a tank battery (a miniature plant, technically (not the biological use of the word though (#explainingapun))) in the process of being built (flowering). There also dwelt near this place a person who was driving to work. It was morning. 6:17 to be exact. When he got there, he and two others were sent to install five pieces of guard rails around some electrical panels, and they were told to make it pretty. That meant that all of the pieces should be in a straight line, and the corners should be square, and also in a straight line. Simple. Easy peasy. Except... only half the holes could b dug with the augur of the skidsteer, the others had to be dug by hand using frost bars and post-hole diggers. One person would break up the ground with the seven-foot-long fifteen-pound iron bar, and the other would take the dirt away with the diggers. By and by, three of the five guards were set. Things were looking up.

[Switching to first-person now... ahhahahae]

But then, everything changed when the measuring tape attacked. Only the foreman, master of all four guard rail placement methods, could fix it. But then, when we needed him most, he vanished and left to the new pad. Fifteen minutes passed and my coworkers and I discovered a new way to contact the foreman; a cellular phone from AT&T. (Although its coverage is great, it's got a long way to go before it's going to be used by anyone.) But I believe that the foreman can solve anything.

You see, we had a problem. Between each of our corner pieces there was twenty-six feet, in which we had to fit two ten-foot guard rails, with three feet of space between each one. And the measuring tape doesn't lie. You do the math. Yeah... that wasn't happening. We looked around site to see if maybe there was a five-foot guard rail or something, but no luck. Perhaps we could just use one guard and split the difference between the corners...? But that wouldn't work either, for you mustn't have more than a five-foot gap between guards. After calling the foreman to see what he had to say, we were less than ecstatic. We had to tear out the ones we had placed and simply push them down an extra couple feet past the electrical box to give us enough distance. Annoying, yes, but a simple plan to execute.

Or so it would seem. After we pulled them all out and had re-dug the holes for the first one, I had an idea: "How about we just put enough dirt back in to make sure it doesn't move, then go on to the next one till we get them all lined up. That way if we have to change one it won't be too hard." The answer was no. "We already have a plan that will work, let's get on with it." Being the newest and youngest hand there, I had no choice but to comply. Eventually, after much more digging and setting, and after compacting the dirt around the posts nice and tight so they wouldn't budge, we came to the last corner piece. When we put it in place... it was not square. Like at all. There was no smudgin the lines with this baby, it was WAY out of line. So... we had to pull a few more out and redo them. And then redo a few more, all the way until we had pulled them all out, except one, and reset them again. (One corner was out of line, but despite my saying otherwise, they said it was good. Which.. it wasn't. Oh well.)  This was also a fairly hot day, and with a dry wind to boot. And a lot of frost bar work. That thing gets tiring after a while, once you've been digging and compacting with it for a few hours. But anyways, our third try at getting them proved a failure, as our line wasn't straight, and the only way to make it straight would put our final guard rail three feet away from the electrical box, when it was supposed to be five feet away.

We were just about to pull them out again when the foreman showed up. He didn't like that it was slightly crooked, but he didn't want us to have to go do it all over again, so we compromised and made it work. And that's how we managed to string out a simple project over the course of several hours. Oh, and did I mention that setting guards is my least favorite part of my job? Well it is. And that's what we did all day long. Hahae, near the end I could hardly keep from laughing at the whole situation, it really was unique. Well, I guess that's just how it goes sometimes. Hopefully tomorrow will be better!

Snapshots

From the past couple weeks:

1. It was hot. Even for me. The day dragged on as we worked out in the sun. We decided to go to the truck real quick to get some human fuel. We were all burning up with barely any energy left, and were all slightly dehydrated. It was kinda miserable. As I was drinking some water, Kylie grabbed his 8-pack of uncooked hotdogs. He took one out and started to eat it just as Lupe walked up.
Kylie: Want a hotdog?
Lupe: [long sigh] I guess so. [Lupe took it and paused a moment before taking an unsavored bite.]
Me: Yes, we've reached that point in the day.
All: [laugh at the trueness and funnyness of it, but mainly because we're silently dying inside.

2. Kylie and Kyle and I looked up at the sky. There was a savage break in the sky where it was all of a sudden clear, with dark clouds all around. You could see the clouds moving in a circle and coming back around... funny.
-several hours later-
A quintessential bolt of thunder struck some blade of grass or leaf of tree far off in the distance. It was a straight bolt of lightning, very thick, and it stayed there for a couple seconds before flashing away. It was the type of lightning skilled photographer take pictures of and post online. There were numerous other flashes of lightning off in the distance, where the wind was coming from. In a little bit the storm would really be upon us.
-twentyish minutes later-
"Roll up, let's go!" Everybody dashed around putting all our tools and materials away as the rain came down ever stronger and stronger. We were all joking around while sparkys were hooping and hollering. Then we drove over to the job trailer to drop off the last of it, and then it really came. In a matter of moments we were all soaked through! Nothing quite like a good thunderstorm. Smiles abounded.

3. Kylie, Lupe, and Kenny and I were driving back after another good day of work. As is not uncommon when we're not working, we were instead busy messing around and whatnot. Kenny and Kylie were up front hitting each other, but for some reason Kenny kept hitting Kylie's elbow, which seemed to cause him pain for some reason, as evidenced by his intermittent slight outbursts. This confused me, because it didn't even look like a hard smack.
Me: Why do you care so much about getting hit in the elbow?
Kylie: He's not hitting my elbow, he's pinching my triceps! That stuff hurts!
Me: Hmm, I've never gotten pinched in the triceps before.
Kylie: What!? You haven't?
Me: Nope.
Kylie: Well you should give it a try.
Me: Hahae, ok.
Kenny turned around as I proffered my arm, and he gave it a good pinch. I mean, it was a pinch, but it wasn't like bad or anything. I didn't say anything, either in word or in facial expression.
Me: Hmm.
Kylie: What!? That didn't hurt? [a look of incredulosity washed over his wash]
Me: Well maybe if you had real triceps that wouldn't be an issue.
Kenny: Ooooohhh...
Kylie: Wow. That was... You know, you're getting meaner as time goes on.
Kenny and I: [just laugh and chuckle]
Kylie: [scrinches up eyes and nose in that face you make when you got burned but can't think up a good response]

4. Another time on the way back from work. This time Kenny and Lupe were going at it, insulting each other and vocally wishing they could hit the other person.
Kenny: Hey, we're off site now, you wanna go?
Lupe: Yeah, let's do it.
Kenny: Kylie, stop the car!
Both Kenny and Lupe jumped out and sprinted around the corner of the truck and started going at it... except they were just moving their hands up and down rapidly slapping each other in a very weird manner. Kylie and I were just watching and laughing at the strange sight before us. Soon they called it quits and returned to their seats and we got going again. The funny thing was, Lupe almost slipped on the mud running around the truck and almost fell into the mire! I think we all would've laughed pretty hard at that.

5. Jex and I were running some errands on my day off. She had a big bright smile on her face and wouldn't stop looking at me. She was so happy to be out and doing stuff! Then we approached the house; I was going to drop something off and then go get one more thing. Jex's smile fell. She sulked and pouted, sad that we were back at the house already. But after I dropped off the stuff and jumped in the truck and started driving, she was happy and smiling again! hahahae, she's so funny. I'm just glad I get to have her with me!

Note: I'll probably be adding a few more things here as they happen. Check back later and you might just find a few more 'snapshots.'

6. I was walking along the catwalks up on the tanks, when I noticed that Kylie and Nate were down below bolting up a piece of pipe. "heh heh, oh this is just perfect." I thought to myself. So I leaned over the railing and made a loud 'hou-ick' sound. You know, the sound people make when they're about to hack up and spit out a big ole lougy, ball of snot, spit, etc. Kylie snapped his head up and stared up at me. "Don't you you dare! I'll go up there and whup your ass!" I just started laughing and laughing. I never actually spat anything, but the effect was still quite impressive.

7. Nate and Kylie were bolting up two pieces of pipe one day. They were both very similar, but one was a little longer than the other. It was pretty hot out and our foremen, Kenny and Kyle, were sitting in the truck. Nate and Kylie and I came up with a great plan though that would be super hilarious, a plan to get Kenny to come out of the truck and over to us for no reason at all. We were all laughing about how great the plan was, and by and by we put it into action. I walked over to the truck with a no-nonsense we-got-stuff-to-do face, and informed Kenny and Kyle that the piece was too big to go in the spot between our two water tanks. Kenny started to explain how it should go, and I said, "Yeah, they've tried and tried though and it won't fit." Then with a sigh of exasperation Kenny said, "Ah, fine, I'll just go out there and show you." So we both walked around the tanks and low and behold, both pieces were already in! "What..." Kenny began to say, before he was drowned out by all three of ours laughter. Kyle came over just then too and joined in the laughter. It was pretty great. A flawless plan, and a flawless execution.

PC: Who Cares?

You know what burns me up? PC. Not a computer, not political correctness, (not that these things don't burn me up, but that's just not what I'm talking about right now) but rather picture credits. Particularly, referring to adding 'pc: John Doe' at the top of a picture that you posted on facebook. First off, I want to say that this isn't an inherently bad practice. Sometimes moms end up taking a lot of pictures and not being in them, and it's nice to know where they were in that family picture. If it's a particularly pretty picture, it can also be a way of showing where the true praise for the picture should be directed to. Alright, this is all fine and well, but where does it start going awry? The quintessential example is when someone inevitably comments, "picture credits?" or something like that on your post. Maybe if you're a professional photographer trying to safeguard their material, or the picture is particularly outstanding, say, a chameleon with its tongue out just about to catch a fly, this is understandable and acceptable to comment.

But by and large, it seems like people are thinking far too much of themselves. A pithy saying comes to mind: Humility isn't thinking less of yourself, it's thinking of yourself less. Come on guys, let's be real. Nobody cares who took the picture. That picture you took of your two friends? They could've just as easily asked a random stranger to take it for them, and nobody would've been the wiser. The point of that picture and that facebook post wasn't to highlight the awesome photography skillz of the picture taker, it was to highlight the two people's friendship. (Or maybe they just wanted a picture for the heck of it, is that too much to ask!?) If you're really that concerned about getting picture creds for some random, everyday photo, you should probably reconsider your motives. Or maybe just consider your motives; perhaps you never thought about why you're asking for photo creds in the first place. Don't be tooting your own horn, nobody likes that kind of guy. 'That guy' is oftentimes a proud, obnoxious braggart who only thinks and talks of how awesome he is. Don't be 'that guy.'

One last thing to leave you with: good deeds, good work, and just goodness in general, don't stay hidden forever. If you're worried about not getting the recognition you think you deserve, don't. It all works out in the end. Do the good things you do for the right reason: don't do them to get praise from your friends, do them because they are GOOD. Trust that God will take care of the rest.

How To Apple

Tuesday, June 12th, 2018

Lunchbreak. It's perhaps the single best thirty minutes I am glad to call my own each day. It's that time when legs think of sitting down, stomachs thin of eating, and sweat glands get a break thanks to the truc's AC. Except I was delayed by having to change the orientation of a flange for the electricians, so it was twenty minutes. But that's besides the point; first things first, my apple! Such sage advice as probably comes to mind when you realize I eat an apple each day at the start of my lunchbreak is totally true, and bears no repeating: you already know what it is! Anyways, I bit into my apple with all the gusto a hungry panda has for bamboo, but something wasn't quite right. Hmm. I kept on eating, but slower. Then, with my next bite, it hit me... I opened up the door and, "Pfbth!!" spat out my half chewed bite of apple: it was rotten! Ughh, nasty. My foreman, Kenny, happened to be in our truck this lunchbreak, and he said, "Close the door, you're letting the AC out!" I closed the door, and explained my rotten apple. Kylie ruminated, "Well why are you eating it then? Just throw it away, we have a trash bag up here you know." "Ughh, yeah, I'm not gonna eat that." There was a plastic bag with some stuff in it on the center between the two up front seats, so I tossed my half eaten rotten apple in there and then leaned back in my seat. (Brief addendum: all of us guys here have a tendency to joke around with each other a lot, and we really get a kick out of it and have a lot of fun. I wasn't prepared for what was going to happen next...) Kenny turned his head around and looked right at me with a straight face and declared, "You little shit." I diddn't now how to respond, so said simply, "What, it's not my fault the apple was rotten!" Then Kylie started laughing. I didn't understand what was going on until Kylie said, "That's his lunch bag, the trash bag is up here!" And then I realized what I'd done: I threw my rotten apple in the bossman's lunch bag!! I burst into laughter, and together Kylie and I beset Kenny with our hearty laughs. I pulled the apple out and tossed it in the real trash, and then we went back to eating our lunches. And that, my friends, is some of the fun stuff we find ourselves getting into around here.

Mountain Mischievousness

Hmm. It was too perfect. Something had just struck me: I had a blue bike and a blue helmet, Zach had a green bike and helmet, Trey had orange, and Johanna had black and pink. It just seemed to fit, and I inwardly laughed to myself. (I would hope it was to myself... the alternatives aren't very attractive, hahahae.) Anyways, we were all set for a nice ride through the mountains; it was my first time going dirt biking for real! (There was a fake first time two years ago, but it was much less glamorous and hardly counted in the first place.) We all sat on our bikes and surveyed the path ahead; yup, it'll be great! Ten minutes later I finally got my back started and going after dozens of previous attempts ending in a pathetic stallout even before I'd moved an inch. I wasn't very used to the... well, anything really. It was all strange and new territory for me. A dozen or two yards down the way I stole a look back and saw everybody staring up themselves. We were off! I turned left at the road, only to find out we were going right. So I tried to turn around, but stalled out. Ugh. Nine minutes later I got it going again, and I puttered away. This was Johanna's second time biking, so she wasn't super confidant herself in terms of going fast, so she and I went slow down the road while Zach and Trey went off the road and cruised amongst the trees and went up the hills a little ways and came back and so forth. Eventually I got bored of just going slow along the main road and went off into a little baby clearing. I navigated between the trees and bushes and rocks, but stalled it again. Eventually I got it going again, only to stall it promptly again. Everybody else stayed in the general area, and kind of more or less drove super sloppy circles around me while I tried to start it again. It was slightly frustrating. Johanna said a word of encouragement whilst puttering by, and Zach gave me another tip for starting it. After getting going again, we went back out on the road so I could get used to driving around and not stalling out before reentering the woods. So off we went.

By and by I found myself a little ways up front, Zach and Trey a bit behind going off the road for a bit, and Johanna trailing not too far behind me. All of a sudden I broke out from the trees and found myself amidst a large grassy area with loping hills and no rocks. Then I got excited: here was a nice spot to finally drive around not in a straight line without trees to get in the way and make me stallout! So I started driving wherever I fancied in this grassy mountaintop fieldy area. And then, it clicked. I got it. At once, everything made sense and it was as if I had been seeing through a mirror darkly, but now it was clear! Now I didn't take the easiest, clearest route, I instead went wherever my heart longed to. At one point I came across a sudden rise in the ground (i.e. a hill or bump) and gave the throttle a good burst and did a little baby jump! Both wheels got off the ground maybe twelve inches or so; it wasn't much, but I was stoked! Then Zach arrived, and together we drove around in a seemingly random fashion going up hills and through ditches and so forth. It was amazing!

After that everything was fun. I didn't have to think near so hard about what I was doing, and I could go wheresoever I pleased. Eventually Zach and I found ourselves ahead of the others a little ways. There was a cute little rectangle of tall grass off to the left that ran alongside the road for a good long ways, so we turned off. Down further to the left ran a a beautiful stream, and we both puttered slowly along the better to get a good look at it. Zach even stopped altogether to gaze at it and take it all in. I puttered past him, and then he started pointing straight ahead to where I was heading; evidently we weren't turning around here but were going to continue along down the road. A moment later I turned my gaze back from the stream to where I was going, and noticed something funny: the grass up ahead didn't look like grass. It was much coarser and... huh, that's funny, it looked almost like the top of trees. All at once my mind became undeceived and I deciphered what I was looking at: it was a gorge! It was too late to turn around now, I was only a few feet away from the edge. "Here goes nothing!" I said to myself, "Guess we'll just have to try and ride it out and make it up the other side." I crashed and ripped through the brush and little trees, reached the bottom without dying, and then a grin creeped across my face. "Heh heh, I got this." I added more throttle as I started up the other side, and halfway up, the brush and little trees were too thick and the throttle not enough, and all at once I just stopped where I was. The bike didn't even fall over, and I was still sitting down when I took my helmet off and started laughing. Meanwhile, Zach didn't know how deep the gorge was, for all he knew it was a veritable mountainside cliff. He ran over quick as he could, and when he reached the top and saw me on the other side, he too burst into laughter. By this time Trey and Johanna pulled up and also got their fill of comedy. I started beating down the brush so I could push the bike out, and then Zach and Trey came and helped me, and together we got it up the other side of the gorge.

We all decided to take a quick break and laugh about what happened and recount it back in detail. Had I gone about a foot and a half more to the left, I would've ran straight into a boulder at the bottom of that gorge, and it'd've been a whole different sort of story. Handily, I walked away with only a handful of scratches on my hands. Anyways, I ran down to the stream to slake my thirst, and upon my return we set off again. The rest of the day was loads of fun, (Trey did a lot of cool tricksy stuff on his bike, like riding up in a semi-circle along a super steep sheer rock cliff, among other things) and on the way back I got into fifth gear going some fifty odd miles an hour. It was exhilarating and left you wanting to keep going on forever, but darkness has a way of convincing one it's time to call it quits, and so we packed up and left. So ended my first trip to the mountains for bike riding. Hopefully there'll be more to come!

Hotsprings + Diving

Friday, March 9th, 2018

Sometimes I wonder how I manage to survive. Whether it's by accident, on purpose, or a little of both, it always seems to work out in the end. That being said, all my more significant injuries could have been easily prevented by a little dose of prudence, good judgment, and just all round common sense. Perhaps running around barefoot in the dark in the desert in a large backyard you've never been in before might not be such a good idea after all. Maybe jumping off a roof onto the open back door of a suburban wasn't the best decision either. And maybe, just maybe, getting a good running start down a narrow icy path laden with rocks wasn't quite the amazing plan I thought it was. One day I'll learn from all my mistakes and not hurt myself in such remarkably preventable ways. One day, yes, maybe so, but not today. No, not today. Let's start it way back where all good stories start: the beginning.

It all began years ago when I was seven years old. I had just gotten a new pair of shoes when I... hahae, no, not that far back. Let's just go to the beginning of the day, sound good? Good. Let's go. Well, today was the day! It was the second day of being done with finals, which, to digress a little bit as I am wont to do, was quite the action-packed week. It was both short and, with the exception of furnishing the worst translation in the history of Latin translations, sweet. It even ended with a bang as I raced the clock to finish my screenwriting assignment. It was due at 11:59pm on Wednesday, and at 10pm of that night I decided it'd be a fine time to rework my entire screenplay. I worked fast and furious the entire duration of those two hours, culminating with me blasting out the last few changes as I listened to the song 'Indian Outlaw', and I even pressed the submit button as the line, "...so proud to live, so proud to die..." sang out. Gulp. It was 12:01am, a full two minutes after the deadline. I was exhausted, and fairly surprised when I looked up to see that the whole gang had gathered around my little cubicle in the UI library. None of them were in the screenwriting class, so I like to think that's why they were afforded this luxury. In reality though, most of the other had already finished and submitted their screenplays by this time anyways, and it was only by means of my procrastination that I was there typing away shortly before the deadline. Oh well, I suppose that's how it works sometimes, eh? Brooke and Anna decided to be reasonable and go to bed, but Benjamin and Caleb and I decided to celebrate and go to Taco Bell. Or at least, I was celebrating because I was done with all my finals, they still had one or two left. It was a great ending to a decent finals week.

Anyways, Friday rolled around, and with it the desire to get out of town and do something, and what better way than to go swimming? Well, we weren't going swimming exactly, our destination was more of a natural hotsprings, but doubtless there'd be water there to enjoy. Froh and I made it down to the meeting place at the appointed time, only to find we were the first there. Except Bobby was there too, still trying to put the finishing touches on an assignment that should've been turned in already but hadn't been due to sickness. I preached to him about all the reasons why he should still come with us, and by and by he was convinced; he finished it enough to submit it, dropped the rest, and came along. Everybody was glad of it too. Eventually everybody else showed up and we got on our way; Froh, John, Bobby, Joelle with Christy in her car, and Handerson, Charli, and myself with Mandy in her (borrowed) car. And we were off! All the people in our car brought a ton of snacks for the road, everything from apples, to cookies, to cheezits and chocolate-covered cranberries(?). When we had about crested the large hill outside Lewiston, Handerson and I told Mandy to take the fun way down, which involved getting off the main road and taking the scenic route called The Spiral Highway. This is a road that twists and winds all the way down the grade, and is super fun to drive on. Part way down we opened the sunroof to let in the sun and the wind, and, heh heh, an idea flew into my funnel. I unbuckled my seatbelt and stood up through the sunroof! It was sooo much fun! I turned and waved at the other car in the convoy behind us, and tried to hit them with some almonds I think it was. I was unsuccessful, but it was fun nonetheless. Then Handerson pressed a certain button, and the sunroof started to close, pinching me in place. We all laughed and I climbed back inside.

Eventually we made it to the bottom of the grade and started driving along the highway beside the river. We followed this for a long time, and eventually stopped by the side of the road at a pulloff. There was a nice little rivulet running down from the hills and under the road feeding into the river, so I took it upon myself to crawl through the pipe under the road all the way to the other side. Upon emerging, it was plainly evident my hair had caught at least a pound of spiders' web on the way. Heh heh, the cost of fun I guess. We all then roamed along the rocky shoreline, jumping from rock to rock to log and enjoying ourselves, but eventually we had to go back to the cars and get on with it.

An hour or two later, we finally arrived at the place: a little parking lot at the start of something like a mile long trail. And the best part? Over here it was snowy! Bobby and I quickly ran to this huge mound of snow, both trying to get to the top first, each pulling the other down and trying to shove him out of the way, and more often than not getting snow in his face or falling over backwards. It was great. And then I spotted something that I'd always wanted to do: there was a little tiny bathhouse with a roof totally full of snow, perfect for creating an artificial snow slide. A moment later I was clambering up and trying to get all the snow to fall off the roof, but no matter how hard I tried, it wouldn't budge. Eventually I had to let it be, for everybody had already started down the trail and I would be left behind. It was a nice trail, not very wide, and the snow was hard packed and offered but little traction. It meandered along the side of the hill with a fairly steep climb on the one side, and an equally steep drop on the other. Along the bottom of this hill ran a nice stream, not so small as a rivulet or creek, nor so large as a small river. This stream playfully produced pleasant sounds of laughter as it skipped over the rocks and bumped into the frozen banks: it rivaled even some of the most beautiful of bird choirs.

By and by, after walking a bit further and talking along the way, we arrived. There it was, a nice little hotspring nestled among the rocks above the stream. All the rock face was free of snow because of the water running down from the spring which collected in a pool partway down. If you didn't already know, water from a hotspring is hot. That's why they call it a hotspring, because it's hot. Why don't we have coldsprings? I don't know. But I do know that many springs produce cold water. But that's besides the point: this spring was hot, and that's why the rocks were free of snow. At any rate, we were soon all getting into the pool created by the hotspring. Well, except for me. I had a funner idea to do first. I clambered down the rocks and logs down to the streamside. Froh called out, "What are you do-ing!" and I just laughed and carried on. I was now at the stream itself, and I looked around for a deep enough spot, where I waded in. It was cold. Most of the water do doubt came from snowmelt which is notorious for being cold, and today was no exception. The spot I had chosen was perfect; I submerged beneath the water and delighted in the coldness of it all, and the current was pretty nice too, bringing an unending trail of fresh cold water in its train. I resurfaced, then went under again, and then decided that was enough and began making my way up the rocks again toward the hotspring. Now that my hands were like little frozen ice mallets, I found that the rocks were harder and sharper on the way up than they had been on the way down. Funny how that works. But by and by I made it to the top.

The hotspring was a warm relief to the falling temperature of my hands and feet, it was so great! There's nothing quite like it. If you ever get the chance to go to one, you should. When I got there, Handerson, Mandy, and Charli decided they'd go down to the stream proper as well, so they took off. The rest of us, meanwhile, talked and laughed and just generally had a good time. Eventually the three girls who'd gone down to the stream returned, but only Charli had followed through with the idea of going swimming down there. Perhaps the other two didn't actually plan on going into the water in the first place, but oh well. By this time I was well warmed up and ready to go do something cold and fun again, and I had an idea. I jumped out of the water and ran to the trail again where there was snow, and found a nice little snowbank. Heh heh. It's always fun to dive into a snowbank. And so I did.

Let's take a little intermission here. This is the part that I had actually intended on writing when I started writing this post. For some reason I feel necessitated to include everything that lead up to it even though it actually had no bearing on what was about to occur. Oh well. Perhaps I should get better at writing hare posts, not mammoth ones. Anyways, I'd also like to point out that if you take the 'v' out of 'dive' you get 'die'. Coincidence? I think not. Also, did you notice that I hadn't depth checked the snowbank to make sure it was deep enough? I hadn't. You should always do this. I also said it's 'always' fun to dive into a snowbank. This is demonstrably false. With that said, let's continue.

So I jumped up and dove into the snowbank. It wasn't a shallow dive either, it was a full on swan dive. I was really getting into the spirit of pretending the snow was water, which it was clearly not. My arms, head, and tips of my shoulders made it into the bank before my hands struck the hillside rather forcefully, sending pain racing up my central nervous system. You've never seen a wave of depolarization so fast. The rest of my body not in the snow that flopped over down the hill, leaving my head and arms in the snow. Discombobulated, I pulled my head out of the bank and assessed the situation. There was a little bit of pain here and there, but an uncanny amount centered on my left hand and ring finger. My hand did not wish to move. So I walked back to the spring and rested it. I found out later that I'd fractured the carpals of my hand, and it was a full six weeks before it would fully heal. All that from one decision to go swimming in a snowbank that was far too shallow.

After that we continued sitting in the spring, and eventually it started getting dark, so we packed up and headed back to the cars. It was much more interesting making our way back in the dark, but we got there eventually and were fortified at the end by Christy's banana bread. The drive back was uneventful, except that we ended up taking a very roundabout way of getting back and ended up on a lonely country road. We stopped at the crest of a hill and told the other car that we wanted to look at the stars, which we did for a couple minutes before getting cold and carrying on. And so ended the day. Each went make to their respective homes and we called it a day.

How To Wave At People The Fun Way

Wednesday, April 18th, 2018

It was just another average day cleaning at the Stormcellar. Nothing too exciting. I was vacuuming some rugs near the back of the store, when who should walk by but Karis. I waved, and she waved back, and that was that. I see people I know walk by all the time, and I almost always wave if I happen to notice them, so I thought nothing of it and went back to work. A couple minutes later she came back again, and, since she knew I was still there, she evidently thought it would be a great idea to wave excitedly at me over and over again whilst smiling and walking backwards along the sidewalk. This seemed perhaps a little strange, but I went along with it nonetheless and waved back with exaggerated arm movements until she was out of sight. I laughed about it and went back to work.

Several hours later a thought occurred to me, so I decided to message Karis... and I found out that she hadn't seen me at the Stormcellar at all today. Which means that... who was I was waving to!? I don't know. Some random person evidently. Awkward. It would appear that I have an affinity for strange interactions with random strangers, but oh well. Nothing to do about it but laugh and move on I guess!

The Land Of Oranges And Lemons

Summer of 2010 or 2011ish

We made it. My grandpa and my great uncle and I had just driven down to Phoenix from Kansas city, and it was quite the ride. All along the way they'd remind each other where it was safe to speed and where it wasn't. "Oh, don't speed through here! Remember that one time we got that $900 ticket? They mean business here." and sometime later one would say, "Alright, we're good for the next 40 miles. Let's get going!" And so it went the entire way down. They've probably spent a small or medium-sized fortune in speeding tickets over the years, but at least now they're pretty good about not getting caught. I sat in the middle of the pickup truck the whole way down since I was the smallest, and listened to many a story of way-back-when or, if it wasn't that, it was talking about whatever politics Rush Limbaugh was railing about at the time. Besides getting hit by a cherry-picker truck at a gas station, it was a pretty great trip. Not that getting hit by the truck was a bad thing. Little thirteen-year-old me thought it was pretty great, especially the rush of seeing the truck approaching our cab and head straight for us. That was the best. Uncle Don tried to dodge him, but he couldn't get it in reverse fast enough, and... crunch! Both trucks stopped. Grandpa and Uncle Don immediately found their insurance information and started going over all the details of what happened and rehearsed their story to be sure to get it right. After decades of experience, Grandpa knew exactly what to do to get the payout that was inevitable, and he even got the license plate number in case the driver drove off before we got his insurance information. (Actually that was the first thing they did. I read and continually repeated the license number while they scrambled for pen and paper and recorded it.) Well, the driver was very apologetic about messing up our front end, and we got his information and that was that. On the way down Grandpa called the insurance company to get everything arranged. And they payed up too. No insurance company could get past Grandpa when he was barking up their tree!

And so we made it to Phoenix. Uncle Don had several trees in his backyard, as well as three cows and a bull. We walked out to the trees. And oh! They were so pretty! It was my first time seeing real citrus trees in action. There were grapefruit trees, lemon trees, and orange trees! I didn't know which one to run up to first. Which utterly delightful fruit should I bite into first? I didn't know, and I still don't know. The grapefuits were twice the size of my fist, and the oranges and lemons only slightly smaller. And then I took up an orange. It was a good and decent weight, with a good healthy peel on it. I sunk my fingers into it, and was surprised at how thick the peel was. It came off easily, in big playful chunks. The wedges were so big, and the little capsules with the juice in them were so large, that you could almost eat them one at a time if you had the patience. I did not have the patience. My teeth plunged into the sweetness, and I couldn't help but smile at the orangyness of it. It was perfect.

I picked as much fruit as I could carry, and brought it inside to the kitchen table. Uncle Don introduced me to eating grapefruit with sugar, and it was pretty good. He even had special spoons for it! And then, the lemons. I'd never seen such humongous lemons in my life. When I took my first deep bite of lemon, my face puckered up tighter than fallen plum on a scalding August day. And it was so good. I ate the whole thing, much to the amusement of Grandpa and Uncle Don.

That was my first real experience in Arizona. Sure, I'd been there at least once when I was real little, but this was the first time that I really remembered well. I spent a solid summer month living with my Grandpa, and pretty much every day we'd swing by McDonald's and Grandpa would get a senior coffee and a sausage biscuit, and I'd usually get two breakfast burritos. I spent most business hours in his insurance office during the day doing school or playing minesweeper and spider solitaire and other such computer games. I also prowled the parking lots and put insurance advertisements on each car windshield I could find. Soon enough I learned not to put advertisements on the windshield when a person was sitting inside. Evidently people don't take to that too kindly... hahae. The afternoon would always find me swimming in the pool in his backyard. It was on the miniature divingboard that I completed my first ever backflip. I was so excited! In the evening we'd eat dinner, sometimes pizza that we ordered, or hamburgers and onions and baked beans that Grandpa cooked up, or something else. We'd eat it while watching the news, or, more often, and more exciting for me, NCIS. And so it went.

By and by it was time for me to leave, but, since we'd driven down and I was flying back, I hadn't brought any of my stuff in a bag that I could take on the plane. So we went to Big Lots and Grandpa bought me a nice little brown suitcase with roller wheels on the back and a pullout handle for $15. After all these years I still have it. I used it just three months ago in fact. It's slowly breaking and stands lopsided, and the plastic is brittle and breaking and the handle barely goes up and down anymore, but it's still hanging on a while longer. Before we drove to the airport, we stopped by Uncle Don's to stock up on citrus, and that was that. I made it back just in time for the potato harvest and setting up more fence, and life soon returned to normal again.

It'd be several years before I would again set foot in Arizona. By that time the lemon trees were dead, the grapefruit trees dying, and the orange trees not producing quite like they used to. But there would always remain a soft spot in my heart for Arizona citrus. Especially the oranges, and especially the lemons. Nowhere else has lemons so delicious nor oranges so sweet.

A Walk Down The Block

Friday, April 13th, 2018

The clouds were high in the sky, like they are wont to be, and it seemed like they droplets might issue forth at any time; indeed, a few of the more intrepid fellows ventured out from time to time, but to no avail, their brethren would not be persuaded to join them. Apparently morale was low. Jex and I ambled along down the street in a part of town away from our usual haunts, and by chance we ended up down a street with a cul-de-sac at the end. It'd've been slightly boring, not to mention lame, to turn around and go back the way we 'd come, so Jex and I decided to walk across this grassy patch and into the parking lot on the other side. We soon realized, however, that our way was barred by a rivulet turned stream by the recent rains. It was sufficiently wide that I doubted whether I could make it across or not, especially since there was precious little good footing on either side, being mostly mud and washed-over grass. I looked about me. On the other side of the stream sat a concrete block wall a little taller than myself that stretched for a good while down the way, but, and this is the good part, I spotted a crossing just a dozen or so meters from me. I harkened to the spot. It was an old, dilapidated, decrepit, slightly decomposed, short little tree that hung its last weight-bearing limb halfway across the stream in a last-ditch effort to be of some use to somebody, and maybe perhaps bring a little more joy into the world. Despite this tree being far from its platonic form, it succeeded in doing just that; I smiled.

Turning, I looked at Jex, then back at the limb. Finally, I spoke into the cellular phone which I'd been talking on this whole time, "Oh, dad, I'm gonna have to put you on hold, I've gotta jump a creek real quick." I didn't hang up but put my phone back in its accustomed spot on my belt. Stepping up on the limb was the matter of a moment, and Jex, just as delighted to be doing something fun as I was, hopped up too. She wagged her tail and smiled, but didn't quite understand what we were up to. And she was more or less standing in the middle of the limb that I needed top get across. Ergo, I called to her to move, and she did, and I took point position while she watched our six. I centimetered my way out along the limb. It was a little wider than it would normally be, thanks to all the grasses and twigs that had gotten caught there before the water level had subsided, but the extra material didn't make the limb any sturdier. It shook and bounced a bit as I reached the furthest point of it, or at least, as far as I could go with at least a certain degree of surety that it could hold me. I looked to the other side of the stream to consider which clump of soggy grass would be my landing point, and finally decided on the one I thought was a little bigger than the others.

Looking back at Jex, I saw her look at me as if to ask, "Are we really going to do this?" I replied by turning around and jumping to the clump. Water immediately started to seep into my shoes as I depressed the mud with my weight, so I jumped up, grabbed the top of the concrete wall, and clambered up out of the mire. I then turned around to look at Jex. She had advanced to the same part of the limb I had been on moments before, and was scanning the other bank just as I had. Then she looked up at me to see if I really wanted her to come to the other side with me. I called her to come. Without further thought, she made the jump, gracefully landing upon a good clump of grass. She then looked up at me and had a slight worried look in her eyes as she wondered how in the world she was supposed to climb the wall. I started walking along the edge of the wall toward the point at which the wall terminated and you could simply go up an incline and reach the top. For a few seconds Jex was worried that she couldn't reach me and scampered along to try and at least stay close, but then she realized what we were doing and ran ahead to make the loop and rejoin me. I then put her leash back on and we carried on our merry way. By the time it was all said and done, it was about a three kilometer walk, and the sun had been below the horizon for a good chunk of time by the time we got back. It was a good walk.

Photosynthesis + Polenta

Monday, April 9th, 2018

The sweet sing-song notes of Froh's decadent morning alarm reached my as-of-yet unsuspecting ears; it was one of those moments where you're awake enough where, if you really wanted to, you could wake up, yet asleep enough you could roll over and go back to sleep. Since it was a Monday morning, I opted for the latter. (There is a peculiar phenomena where, whenever people use 'the former' and 'the latter' they always choose to use or refer to the latter. Poor former. One of these days I will choose you! But not today. I guess that's just how the cookie crumbles.) An hour or so later, I finally awoke a tad after 9am I believe. Right away I jumped out of bed, ran downstairs, threw a pot of water with some raisins on the range, turned on some music, and cleaned the kitchen. By the time I was done with that my oatmeal was ready, and I surfed facebook and checked my email whilst consuming it. I glanced outside: it was beautifully gorgeous, the sun was shining, all was right with the world. I smiled for joy, washed out my breakfast bowl, and grabbed a book and hopped outside. We just so happen to have a deck chair sitting out on our back patio, so I sat on it and propped my feet up on a 5-gallon bucket. I read. And I read some more. I felt like a bearded-dragon or perhaps a black snake coming out to soak up the wonderful warmth of the sun. No, better yet, I was a petunia, nay, a black eyed susan! gleefully soaking up the sun's life-giving rays. I was photosynthesizing. After many moons of snow, rain, and clouds, the sun was back and we plants could finally get a bite to eat. Boy was I hungry for some sun.

I read out there all the way until an hour after noon, at which time I went inside to craft a sandwich. (With authentic sourdough bread from Winco, mayonnaise, rice, pepperjack cheese, mushrooms, zucchini, sliced turkey, and onion.) Twas a glorious sandwich, towering a whopping... I forgot to measure it, but it was tall. Only problem was, it was so tall that when I opened my mouth to try and fit it in, I had to open my jaws soooo wide. Much wider than I usually do on your average day. So wide, in fact, that my jaw got a charlie horse and was stuck and didn't want to move. It was kind of sad, there was literally sandwich in my mouth my I couldn't close it to take a bite! A dozen excruciating seconds later I summoned the unction to clamp my jaws shut, and after that I was good again.

2:30 found me sitting in class, and an hour later Christy and Sarah and I discussed all the photosynthesis we did earlier in the day, and an hour after that Keziah and I were talking about concrete stuff and how his dad just got a fancy new contraption that'll make it loads easier. I'd have to see it to believe it, but it sounded pretty legit. After that I sat down to read in the commons, and Mandy and Rachel were there. An hour or so went by, and Rachel left to go somewhere. Then I came across some really good parts from a book I'm reading called 'Propaganda', by Jacques Ellul. I started cracking up and chuckling pretty good to myself, enough so that Mandy looked up from what she was doing to see what was so funny. Here are two of the quotes I satisfied her curiosity with: "Almost every man feels a desire to kill his neighbor, but this is forbidden, and in most cases the individual will refrain from it for fear of the consequences. But propaganda opens the door and allows him to kill the Jews, the bourgeois, the Communists, and so on, and such murder even becomes an achievement." [pg 152] And the second: "When a man obeys necessity, he wants to prove that such is not the case and that he really obeys his conscience. On the day when the draft is introduced, everybody discoers he has a fervent love for his country." [pg 157]

By and by Rachel came back, and then a chance comment from her sparked an animated conversation: she said, "So I made some hominy today." And then it all came crashing out, and I told them the story that hominy had reminded me of: How I"d been tricked into buying a gallon of polenta. See, it happened like this. I was walking through Winco the other day, and I stumbled across some polenta in the bulk food section. It looked kinda like grits, so I bought some in the wild hope that it might taste like grits if I cooked it up. I went back home, tucked it away in my pantry, and promptly forgot about it. Five or six weeks later it happened again: I rediscovered it, forgot I'd already bought some to try, and then bought some more to try and see if it was like grits. This happened one more time several weeks later. Then, probably two weeks ago, I found all my polenta. It was indeed a copious amount, enough to fill a gallon-sized icecream container to the top. And then I cooked some up like it was grits, and then happily dug into a bowl of it when it came out... but it was wrong. All wrong. It was goopy, like a useless bowl of cream of wheat. And... it tasted awful.. horribly awful.. I almost gagged. Now, anybody that knows me knows I'm not big on wasting food, but this... it almost wasn't food. I threw it in the trashcan. Yes, the entire pot of polenta went by-by, down the drain, kicked the bucket, down to sheol, maybe purgatory at best. It was so sad, and so disappointing. I was mentally prepared for grits, and what did I get? A cheap knock-off of the singularly disappointing food that is called cream of wheat. I ended up eating oatmeal that day.

Anyways, I now have a gallon of almost worthless polenta, so I asked Mandy and Rachel if they had any good polenta recipes. And so it was we spent the next 10 minutes scrolling through various polenta recipes. Some were hilariously bad, others just plain bad, and a handful were perhaps worthy enough to be tried. One of these was a recipe for polenta and mushroom pizza, so one day here soon I'll give that a try and see how it comes out. So now I am on a quest to find the best way to edibly eat polenta. If any of yall have any wonderful polenta recipes you're just dying to share with the world, feel free to comment below or send them to me: I've got enough polenta to try out any recipe you can send my way.

So that's about it for today.Once I got back from school I took Jex for a walk and then made a big fat burrito for dinner, then did some more reading a tad of writing. Pretty good day if you ask me!

Red Bell Peppers

Wednesday March 7th, 2018

Today I'm going shopping! I can't wait! My pantry is getting frightfully empty, and rice and lentil burritos are getting a little tiring too. Six and a half long weeks and a hundred fifty dollars later, I'm ready to buy food again. So lez go!

Ah, Winco. My ultimate favorite grocery store. I confidently strode through the doors, pushing my big fat fancy buggy, and immediately temptation knocked on the door: red bell peppers were 48 cents a piece; normally they go for $1.28 a piece, and the green peppers are the cheap ones at 78 cents a piece. Well, these discounted red bell peppers were beautiful, in perfect condition. I could almost taste them. And they all sat together, fully filling four big brown cardboard boxes. I looked up down the aisle. I looked down up the other aisle. Nobody seemed to be noticing. Heh heh. I grabbed one of the boxes and plunked it in my cart. Oh what elation filled my soul! This was a good bell pepper haul, complete with nice prices, high quality produce, and a good quantity to boot. Ohh yeah. I finished up the rest of my shopping and bought all the things: flour, rice, beans, oats, cornmeal, polenta, raisins, mushrooms, cucumbers, potatoes, cheese, bread, milk, sour cream, butter, baking powder, porkchops, some sliced turkey, bacon, tortillas, various sauces, and I even splurged and bought some 40% bran flakes. It was glorious. It tallied to $160. This is the most I've ever spent at the grocery store at one go. Perhaps the 36 bell peppers had something to do with it.

Later that day, after all the groceries had been put away, I gave Mandy a ride somewhere, and she made a strikingly perceptive comment, "Hmm, it smells like bell peppers in here." Very impressive olfactory senses if I do say so myself. A day or so later, I began to realize that I'd never be able to eat that many bell peppers before they all went bad, and there was only so much room in the freezer to store them. And so, with beating heart and breathing lungs, I decided that I'd need to sell some. It wasn't until the following Saturday that I finally got around to actually selling them, but boy did it happen fast. Mandy had already said she'd buy 4 several days earlier, but I kept on forgetting to bring them down to the school. Ergo, I texted her asking if I could just bring them by her apartment before I forgot them again. She said it'd be fine to bring 'em by, and so off I went. I did, however, bring along the whole box of them with me, even though she only needed four. I had a plan you see, heh heh. But before I made it out the door, who should show up but good ole Taylor boi. He was super excited about seeing the big box of peppers, and immediately asked if he could buy two off of me. I readily obliged.

Soon enough I was over at the Hill apartments walking up the stairs to Mandy's place with my box of peppers.She was filled with a small sense of wonderment at why I'd brought the whole box of them, but then I explained that I was going to go to all the other apartments of my friends and see if they wanted any. She laughed then chuckled and said good day, and then I walked out the door, took one more step, and knocked on the door. It was Wesley. He and Keziah were slightly surprised to see me there unannounced, but were more than happy to buy five or six peppers. We chatted for a bit before I made my exit and headed down the stairs to the next one. I knocked. It was Charli. She looked at me, smiled, blinked with slight shock, and then said, "I thought when Mandy texted me saying you were coming over to sell bell peppers she was joking!" I just laughed, both on account of Charli's reaction, and from the fact that Mandy had texted about me selling peppers. Charli ended up buying two. Later that week Bobby bought five, and that left me with about fourteen peppers left. I placed two in the fridge for my own personal delight, and proceeded to chop up five more for freezing them. It took me forever to chop them though, since one of my hands was broken and I had to hold the pepper down with my fist while I chopped with my good hand. I only actually chopped up those five, and left about seven others for later; I was too tired of chopping them single-handedly. The following Sunday I was talking with Rachel and happened to mention my pepper troubles. She perked up and told me to just bring them by later that day (since there was a movie night at her house) and she'd cut them up for me then. It was by far the sweetest thing anybody had done for me all week.

By the end of that Sunday, a week and a half after buying them, all my bell peppers were all taken care of. A couple had already been eaten, several sold, and the rest carefully diced up and thrown in the freezer. What a good ending to yet another bulk food impulse buy. I think the last time I had one of those was a couple years back in Arizona when I bought 140lbs. of bananas for $6. Boy, that was fun taking care of all of those. Anyways, that's the long and the short of it. I expect sooner or later I'll find another amazing deal on some food item, say for instance, two cent loaves of bread or something, and I'll just go ham and buy a ton of them, but at least for now I've managed to stave off the danger of all my bell peppers going to waste. Big shoutout to Rachel and all yall who bought red bell peppers, yall're the best!

The Sounds Of Silence

Sunday, February 18th, 2018

Silence is underrated. In the ever busy lives that we lead, where we wake up to alarms, start our days with our favorite spotify playlists, and drive to work or school with the radio playing, we tend to forget about the wholesomeness of silence. It's almost as if we're scared to leave ourselves alone with just our thoughts with nothing to keep our wandering minds distracted. Maybe we're afraid of what we'll find if we stop our little nothings and just listen. Just a thought.

It's not every day that is as perfect as today. It had a solid start with a good service at church, and an ending to put any average day to shame, what with the combined sophomore/junior party and then a get-together for Luke's birthday afterwards with the guys (we had a bunch of pizza, fun conversation (Complete with a total Bear Grylls burn. (For the record, he's the worst "survival guy show" out there. Just sayin'.)), and a showing of the movie RED (would highly recommend)). (Sorry guys, I go a little crazy with all the parentheticals sometimes.)

But the highlight of the day for me was going out on a little hike to Idler's Rest. There was only five of us, Charli and Mandy, Bobby and Daniel, and myself. Oh, and we brought Jex along too. As soon as we got there Jex bounded out of the car and jumped in the snow, and I followed suit. It was a mite cold laying there in the snow, so I stood up a couple seconds later. But in my heart I was still flat on my back in the snow. Ah, it's been too long! I need more snow in my life!

We started along following the trail, but promptly found ourselves off it. We didn't care and kept on going anyways; it was a relatively small area and the way it was set up it'd've been pretty difficult to get lost. You'd need some serious skills to pull that one off. All along the way Bobby and I would occasionally throw a few straggling snowballs at each other. There were also these cool little trees with snow all over their branches, and if you shake them all the snow falls off on the person behind you. This may have been done a few times by a handful of unnamed individuals... ahem.. anyways, but bime by we reached as far up the hill as we decided we should go, and so we went down the other side of it at a right angle.

Jex and I had many a fun romp, and we especially had a fun time going downhill because of all the speed you get and the fun leaps over branches and logs and... ah, everything. I miss the woods. I need more of it. I think we all do. But more on that later. Eventually we hit back on the trail again and carried along for another while, talking all the while of course. It was great. Daniel got several good pictures too, and then we came to the spot where the year before our two classes (at the time freshmen and sophomores) had posed for a huge group picture. Daniel insisted we all stand on this big fat log while he got a picture of us, and then he wanted us all to jump of and get a midair shot. Somehow I got mixed up on the signal of when to start, and I made as if to jump but then realized that I shouldn't jump. To try and stop myself from falling, I put my arms out to catch myself, but kind of ended up pushing on Bobby's and Charli's shoulders, and Bobby ended up accidentally doing the same thing to Mandy next to him when I suddenly started pulling on him, and... yeah, we all fell off the log. Whoops. But we clambered back up and got the picture, and it was all fine and well. Then Daniel swapped places with Charli and Mandy, and we did it again so he could be in it.

After that, we stood there. Snow began falling from the trees because the wind blew across the treetops, but then it became evident that it was actually indeed snowing for real. The flakes were beautiful. We all just kind of stood around and stared up into the sky, or off into the dark depths of the snow-covered forest, and sometimes our gaze would fall on the spot where the sunlight broke through the trees, casting a narrow strip of the woods into a bright golden smattering of pure ocular bliss. It was gorgeous. Beauty surrounded us on every side, and we couldn't drink it up fast enough. Several minutes went by in complete silence, each caught up in their own thoughts and ponderings. We were briefly interrupted by a passerby and his dogs, but we went right back to the pure silence the moment he was gone.

But it wasn't silence. The creek bubbled and trickled, laughing for the joy of it all; birds chirped gayly in the trees, hidden from sight almost as if they were too shy to show their faces but at the same time bursting with so much joy that they couldn't remain silent if they tried to. The wind blew off in the distance, swaying the treetops which every now and then sent down their blessings in the form of snow falling from their boughs. The trees themselves creaked with excitement, swaying along to the music of the woodland world. It's almost as if all nature is singing for joy at the beauty of it all, thankful to the core for existence, and ringing out in jubilation at the handiwork that God has wrought. It is marvelous. It is is amazing. It is truly glorious. And how can I stand before it all? What can I do? Woe is me, for I am a man of unclean lips! But not now, no, not forever; Christ has been crucified as our Passover Lamb, and I am now washed white as snow. Never forget, children of God, that this is true. Glory be! The five of us stood there basking in the pure praise of his awesome name, speechless at the beauty, marveling in His creation. It's a dance. It is song. It is joy.

This is what we're missing in our day-to-day lives. Consumed in entertaining ourselves to death, drunk on smartphones, high on the attention of others, bowing down to the idol of busyness and the myth of productivity we slowly drain ourselves day in and day out. We never stop going, we never stop listening. We're never sober enough from the entertainment to stop and think; for the worldly flesh inside of us is afraid of the light, and worries that if we pause for a minute we'll hear the music of the spheres and again return to the true God. Don't listen to the flesh; kill it. Every. Single. Day.

Now, I'm not saying that music is bad, or that we should drop all our responsibilities and become hermits out in the woods, far from it. But just don't let yourself fade away. It happens slow, but it happens nonetheless. Instead, take some time every now and then just to listen to what's going on around you. Keep in mind the bigger picture, don't forget your ultimate calling, and don't miss the forest for the trees. There's more to life than grades, assignments, and putting in the hours at work. Don't forget that.

But back to the forest. It had been several long minutes spent in silence, and it was time to go. But before I said anything, I wanted to see what time it was. I reached for my phone case to get my phone out and... crtsshh. The velcro keeping it shut came undone with a soft, small noise, which in the quiet sounded like a cannonball ripping through the starboard side of a five-masted frigate. Four pairs of eyes snapped at once and stared me straight in the face, staring straight to the depths of my soul. And I couldn't do it. All the joy from the beauty of the scene that was pent up inside of me could stand it no longer, it had to ring out, it had to sing: I burst into laughter, which rang through the trees and bounced off of branches. Soon others joined in and we all decided it was time to go back now. We headed back to the car, loaded up, and hit the road. We all had a great time, it was perfect. And Jex was happy too. And after that glorious time spent listening to the sounds of silence, to the sound of God's creation singing His praises, I'm rejuvenated. There's really nothing like a good communion with the saints on a Sunday morning followed by a good dose of His nature to recharge your drained and depleted battery. Give me a sword and a shovel because I'm ready. I'm ready to build, to fight; to live.

BRING IT ON!!