memories

Life Long Learning

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Don’t Sit on the Sticker Bushes! Good advice! Something Cheryl was looking at on TV prompted this comment from her. She was just starting down the road to dementia. Odd comments and visions would come to her but we had been together too long and I loved her to much to leave her unaided. Life is full of little surprise comments. Sometimes funny some times not. They can punctuate our lives and section off unhappy or anxious feelings from the good times. Long ago now, Jerry came in and said, “There are more things today that don’t mean shit than ever before!” then he left my office.

The Valco Saga

Mistakes in life are made but if there is a plan, they are all part of the plan or not. Perhaps there is no plan per se. Perhaps it is actually a vision. The universe is a continuum. In 1990 I was employed by Cincinnati Milacron in Cincinnati, the machine tool capital of the world in many respects. I had spent 18 years of my life at Cincinnati Milacron. I came for five and stayed eighteen. A stalwart old line Cincinnati company that was the gold standard of machine tool manufacturers. Cincinnati Milacron no longer exists. Remnants of the old company do, the largest of which is simply called Milacron today. Then, however, it seemed to me that CM was dying a slow death. Occasionally I looked elsewhere for a different position.

It is much like looking for a new wife after tiring of the old wife. It is also not part of my make-up when I say that to myself. I am easily entrenched in life. Cheryl and I had been married twenty years by this time. My fortieth trip around Sol was within view. Was I too old to find another position that I was passionate about? I was not certain, nor was I willing to give up, and I was not in a grass is greener mode, I was looking to the future and wondering, what if? CM was downsizing without a vision, it seemed from my perspective. Was there a future?

A good friend that had gotten caught in the shrinkage called me one day with a lead. The head electrical wizard at the little company at which he landed had died and they where on the hunt for a new head electrical engineer. I did not realize that the head electrical person would be working directly for one half of the partnership that owned and ran the company.

Rich, the half of the partnership that eventually came to be my boss, was a know-it-all. Two weeks into the new job, I began to wonder about the wisdom of my decision to accept the position of chief electrical engineer. The previous holder of the position I had never met but he had, according to hearsay, and even Rich’s own mouth, a bit of a drinking problem. At the very least he was more gregarious than I, but most importantly, he had the protection of half of the owning partnership. I did not.

From 1990 to 1994 I worked for this little company in southwest Ohio called Valco Cincinnati. They manufacture adhesive application equipment for the packaging and other industries and like many small companies they were growing by acquisition. Theirs was an interesting application of control electronics. And the job of steering that was a giant leap of faith for me.

Office Life can be Challenging

From the perspective of 25 years later, one might imagine that the memories would fade. They do but I took notes of various kinds along the way. Mostly funny little things people would say. Engineers and technical folks are a cynical group. Most are conservative decision makers. Me included. Most carry thoughts in the background of “prove it to me” or “Oh yeah? Show me.” It is part of the nature of an engineer. If the math works, they will believe it.

I had kept a journal on and off through my life and towards the end of my tenure at Valco I wrote more. I imagine Scott Adams started down this same road at PG&E, except that he was better at it. He turned it into a career. I kept funny memos that the ownership and other managers would publish. The pointy haired boss in Dilbert reminds me of one half of the ownership, of Rich, the half that hired me.

After I was terminated, fired, sacked; a friend and colleague took all my notes from what he referred to as the “wall of shame” and collected them in a cast-off binder and sent them to me. This friend is the Jerry I refer to in the quote above. He had more insight into the workings of a privately held company than I gave him credit for at the time.

It may sound corny but these notes are precious to me. They chronicle my time there. These little messages are in addition to my journaling. Termination from a less than satisfactory job was a much needed learning experience. That I was terminated was disappointing but I now believe that everyone should be terminated at some time in their life. It is devastating. But it helps you to find inner strength. And often a better situation. At the very least it gives you perspective about what has importance and what is unimportant to you.

In this particular instance I had worked myself into a particularly odd funk. I sought help when I found myself contemplating what to do to end it all. I may have also begun to understand why the previous owner of this job had a drinking problem. I was developing my own. Between my family doctor and a psychiatrist friend of his we had attached the name of acute situational depression to my condition. It does not have to be chronic but it can be fatal. All of these sad and dark feelings occurred behind an apparently happy guy.

The Wall of Shame

Some statements transcend time and space and Jerry’s comment, “There are more things today that don’t mean shit than ever before!” is one of those. A universal theory that becomes a truth by demonstration and consistency. There are many of these.

Somewhere during my debilitating Valco experience I received one of those cute little desk calendars with an engineer saying on it for each day. Some of those I kept after I had scissored off the date. Engineering always lives in a cube farm. The walls of which made great bulletin boards. It is on of the few things I miss about working as an engineer, posting stuff on the wall for commentary by others. Much like Facebook but much more intimate and personal.

A favorite: WESTHEIMER’S RULE: To estimate the time to do a task, estimate the time you think it should take, multiply by two and change the unit of measure to the next higher unit,. Thus we allocate two days for a one hour task. — (I added) — and predict April 15th as the finish date. I thought of April 15th merely because it was two weeks hence from the time of the original posting on the wall. It was only later that someone pointed out to me that April 15 had significance to the other half of the partnership. As I started the wall, others came by and helped. Many added sayings that they had tripped over in memos or simply spoke out loud. Some of the guys would be very careful about what they said around my cubicle.

This actually got better as I and others continued to collect little remarks that people say to each other in an office or elsewhere in the vein of the old sage wise sayings.

At the end of a memo written to encourage moving on with some decision: … I BELIEVE THAT WE HAVE A WINNER IF WE MAKE THESE CHANGES AND WE SHOULD PROCEED WITHOUT HASTE (sic) I have no idea why it is written in all caps. I do not have the rest of the memo. I like the thought though — damn the torpedoes! Full speed ahead BACKWARDS!

Another: Papoose (def) — consolation prize for taking a chance on an Indian blanket. [anon] And another – God hates a coward!

One of my personal favorites: “We’ll just come to that bridge when we cross it!” spoken by our service manager at the time, Larry, after a meeting. It might be the first time I started to write down misspoken comments by others. This is profoundly true if you stop to ponder it.

And the wall grew and grew. 1993 Exploded with all of these gems and in some cases I categorized them because context became more important.

I wonder how they put up with me? — Dave

The bigger the orifice the more shit you get out! — Randy

I never drink under the influence. — Scott

There is no group that takes more time away from family life than the Church! — R. Cloud

It looks reasonably promising (fence sitter) — Lance

People are clueless! — Todd

Jack Shit running loose is NOT a good thing! — J. Lutterbie

Some animals aren’t trainable — Jay

Not all boats will rise with the tide. (stock market) — Don

… a frozen semi-state (the fifth state of matter)– Jim

(sensitivity, empathy) He’s about as sensitive as fire ants crawling up your ass. — Mike

ADVICE – help that you don’t want to give out — Dean

It’s one of those loose T&E’s — B. Nolting

Give them lips a rest young co-op — Paul

Nothing comes from being stupid in public — Jerry

(control theory) The temperature is set on 75, the thermostat reads 67, everything’s fine. — L Marsh

(Social commentary) Stereotypes are typically based on observation — Mike

(Administration’s statement of the obvious) Everybody’s busy or they’re gone! — Jim Bornhorst

(Conversation) Are you coming back later? we’re having Karaoke tonight. — No thanks I’m on a low fat diet.

1994 brought:

(life commentary) Will we ever understand anything? — Jerry

(Electrostatic discharge) If we’d just clean up management there’d be a lot less static around here. — Gene

(why things often do not work) We didn’t load the bogus values correctly. — Dave

(obviousness) That’s going to be blank unless we put something on it! — R Woolf

His reality contact is a little low. — Kappeler

(fence sitter) I think I’ve got this somewhat under control. — Kathy

Some things you get for free you can’t afford. — Keith

God, what a Fu-Fu this has been!

It was relatively impressive. If that makes any sense. — Jerry

Fuck this place. — Paul

It was a lot easier when we didn’t have to deal with the Germans. — Paul

The last page of Jerry’s memoir to me was written by the best of the best when it came to folks that I have worked with through the years. He is truly a special person. His final words: So you have to be aware that if Bornhorst sacks you because he can’t decide how else to suck up to Greg, understand that it is your fault that some projects turned to crap. For a while at least I was pissed at Jim Bornhorst but then I realized that, as a friend once said, nothing good comes from being stupid in public. I hold those words dear. Jim probably was getting rid of me because he was told to do it and whether that was the truth of the matter or not, it was a distinction with no difference. Eventually I came to realize that being let go was actually a good day.

And in 1994 we were concerned about Global Warming but doing nothing.

The Silver Lining

This experience caused my brother to reach out to me.

Bill called me in 1994 after I had been terminated from my job with Valco. I do not remember him calling me much. It was the other way around in my memory. So, his call was a surprise.

He called me, he said to offer some advice. He said, ” You have to decide what you are going to charge.” ‘Charge for what?’ I replied. They are going to trip over some problem that they will need you to fix, because they did not know they had it. Something you would have just handled. They will try to get you to do it for nothing but its a temp job. Figure out how much you are going to charge to fix their problem.

Every worker should be fired at some point in their life. It is not very much fun while it is happening but it is an excellent learning experience. You get down on yourself. What did I do wrong? How will I go on? If you are part of the engineering staff of a company, you often operate under the illusion that you are part of the management cadre. Nothing could be further from the truth. You are a worker bee like everyone else. Your work however is to think, design, plan and create the product.

Bill’s little advice made me realize my value. Anything I did had a price. And that price was value for my time, experience, problem solving ability, cleverness and elegance of design. More importantly that price included time away from things, family, people and situations that might be more important to me than doing some job that the only tangible benefit was a pay check. He had put it in perspective. Life is too short.

Indeed! In retrospect it is unsatisfactory to harbor ill will to anyone. Better things come to you if you spend little time angry and upset about such a small thing as getting sacked. Trust the universe to center itself once more and make better things happen but you have to help. Do not sit on your hands.

More Silver

This all happened long ago. I learned from this experience that not everything happens for a reason. Some events occur because idiots gain control for a time. Most of the time if one can see past the immediate hurt, one discovers that a better existence is ahead.

I still collect sayings and phrases that engineers use. Dilbert is a favorite comic although Scott Adams is far enough away from daily existence at PG&E that often his take on office life is not as funny as it once was. Perhaps I too am older and less connected.

Some memos and silly comments were forwarded to me after I was gone. If only I could draw cartoons.

I rewrote and edited this story in response to a writing prompt that appeared in a newsletter email that I receive on a regular basis. The prompt is – This week write about a major shift you lived through, one in which suddenly so many otherwise stable details of your life dramatically changed, beyond your control, for better or worse. (Sometimes these changes can be for the better, directly or inadvertently.)

What or who ushered this shift into your life? What did your world look like before? What did it look like during and after the shift? Were you powerless in the face of it? Or did you play a role? How did you feel about it? Did your feelings about that shift change over time? If you could go back and undo the shift, would you? Why?

Don’t sit on the sticker bushes!

Carpe Diem.

Valentines Day

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And Sweetest Day are arbitrary celebrations that I do not get. If you are someone who thinks those are important I apologize for any offense you may get from this essay but why did you focus on one single day? Well maybe two? Why not celebrate that relationship, that connection every day that it exists?

Valentines Day seems to celebrate sugar and chocolate. Sweetest seems to celebrate flowers. The months that each are in, February is filled with frantic anticipation of warmth returning and, October, dread of warmth leaving the Earth seem to posess little reason for flowers and candy. Nevertheless, clever marketers have made up a reason and then filled it.

Tony Decouple was badgered by Nick and Gayle on CBS the other morning when they had run out of mudslides, fires, snow and Donald to talk about. Tony is not a fan of a big deal special day as I am not nor is Debbie. And when Cheryl was with me she was not or pretended to be as she discovered how poor I was at acknowledging dates. I have had my wedding anniversary ingraved inside my wedding ring since day one.

My term for it is date dyslexsia. Many of you will say just write it on the calendar. That works but what if you have calendar dyslexia too?

Debbie and I spent time together yesterday. We had lunch and enjoyed the cold but sunny day here in southwestern Ohio. Discussed movies and kids but did not exchange candy and gifts. Maybe we are older and wiser and less enamored with the made up marketing ploys. (Maybe I screwed up.)

We first met after Sweetest Day last year so that dyslexic event was not an issue.

Carpe every Diem.

This Christmas

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Christmas is Harder than I thought it would Be

It just is harder. Several times over the past few days I have been blindsided by my own emotions. A hymn in church, a song on the radio, a picture on the Frameo, a note in a Christmas card, any of these and all of these bring to mind memories of glad tidings gone by. If I am completely honest with myself, I started it.

A good friend asked what my favorite song/hymn was and I responded “Hallelujah” and could not immediately remember Leonard Cohen wrote it so many years ago. It was often used in the closing scenes of the show “Criminal Minds.” It is a haunting tune, at least it is to me. I think the rendition that is used on the show is the one by John Bon Jovi. I am unsure of that fact but it haunts me and reminds me of Cheryl and our younger times together.

When that happens I just let it roll over me. It is disappointing that Cheryl is no longer with me but we had a great life together. More than fifty years of love, children, busy, travel, learning, excitement, anguish, grace, parties, dinners, Christmases, Easters, egg hunts, summers and summer vacations, it was a wonderful time. We argued too but we never took that to bed with us. She supported me and I supported her.

Today as I put my last stamps on my Christmas messages I set Spotify to play “Hallelujah” by Leonard Cohen. After that it wandered off to play a not so random collection of songs from various albums. Yusaf (Cat Stevens) started playing and suddenly I was 25 again. It is interesting to me how that happens. Cheryl has long hair and the kids are little. Yusaf is gray these days, as am I.

And though you want to last forever; You know you never will; (You know you never will); And the goodbye makes the journey harder still – Cat Stevens “Oh Very Young”

It is good to remember those times we had.

Time only moves forward. The Christmas greetings are in the mail.

Tomorrow is Christmas eve.

Carpe Diem!

Do Crabs Have Eyebrows? And Other Questions

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Early in the morning after awakening I find coffee and turn on a newsy program to get information about the latest weather history. This time of year and on this day that Google Calendar tells me is Native American Heritage Day but the sale folks tell me is Black Friday, the weather folks are doing their best to get us out to shop before the temperature gets to absolute zero. In between the commercial advertisements are entertaining.

A cute little girl asks her mother, “Do crabs have eyebrows?” Today it made me laugh. Why did I laugh on this day?

Who knows? I certainly do not. I tripped over a Spotify playlist of Lindsey Stirling and her high speed electric violin playing and it picks up my spirit today.

And the ads have made me think of Christmases past and hope for Christmases future.

Perhaps I need to be in a crowded place with a hot chocolate in my hand.

Carpe Diem.

‘tis the beginning of The Season

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The bear got his hat out yesterday. Maybe his friend the elf will show up and help celebrate soon.

On this day, however, this day before Thanksgiving Day I am thinking about our life, Cheryl’s and mine, and what a gift it was to us. Tomorrow is the day to count blessings and be thankful for what we have. For me I am also thankful for what we had.

I do not have Cheryl with me any longer but what I have instead is the knowledge that she is not suffering with Parkinson and dementia. I am thankful for that knowledge.

I do have three well educated and successful children who have built successful careers. All of the grandchildren in all of the families are healthy and happy. Some have moved into careers themselves. Some are still figuring it out for themselves but they are all self reliant. Their parents are excellent teachers. I am thankful for the family Cheryl and I made.

I do have my own health. My knees do not hurt constantly like other friends that I have. My hips do not hurt when I walk like others that I know. I was still able to hike four miles up and down the face of a wooded cliff-side in Kentucky. (My legs complained a bit afterward but the bourbon worked. I bought real hiking boots when I returned home.) In the summertime I spent many days riding 15 – 20 miles on my bike. (I am not fast but I can keep up 12 – 15 mph for long stretches. I am not in a hurry. I like to look around me while I ride.) I would like to lose a little weight but my physic will probably never be like what I was at twenty-five now that I am seventy-five. I am thankful for my health.

My sister and I have become much closer. Only she and I are left from our original family. She and I are both widowed and that is sad but it seems like we lean on each other a bit and that is helpful to both of us. I am very thankful for our relationship.

I am thankful for all the help we received from friends and family this past year as Cheryl’s health rapidly declined. I am thankful to all the kind folks at Bridgeway Pointe and Queen City Hospice that took care of Cheryl as she faded. Thank you all.

I am thankful for new friends and old friends who have helped me through the past year.

I am thankful for kindness in the world.

I am thankful that mom taught me a few basic cooking techniques when I was younger and I did not realize she was doing it.

I am thankful that I like to cook and that I like my own cooking. (See the physic comment above.)

I am thankful that things always seem to work out.

I am thankful that I am getting better at staying in the present and not experiencing anxiety for the future. This quote from Matthew pops into my head sometimes (it is true!) when I think about what comes next. [“Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin.”] I thank Cheryl for teaching me this concept of staying present and Mom for pointing out self-reliance goes hand in hand with that.

Mom left me with a gift that I will always be thankful for. I wrote this paragraph sometime ago:
At the very end of her life my mother awakened for a few minutes as I was sitting with her in her room at Bridgeway Pointe which is an assisted living community where she lived out the last fifteen months of her life. When I walked into her room Mom was quietly dozing in her bed. I sat in the usual chair I sat in and waited to see if she would awaken. It was after her dinner time and she often took a nap after dinner. After a few minutes, maybe half an hour, she woke up and looked over at me. She did not have her glasses on but she said, “Paul, is that you?” I replied, “Yes it’s me.” And then she said something that I was not expecting. She said, “Thank you for all your help.” After that she dozed off again. It was the last conversation I had with my mother. She passed away a couple days later. It still makes me cry.

I am thankful that I was helpful to Mom. She acknowledged that to me. All I could say to her was, “you’re welcome.” And I sat in her darkened room as she dozed off again.

We should always be thankful for what we have and what we have had and what we may be given. When someone is helpful to you, acknowledge it and say thanks to them. (Do not whine about it if they are unhelpful – reread the Matthew quote.)

Carpe Diem.

Listening Some More

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The holiday festivities are here. The Grief Share topic is “how to survive”. Last year was hard enough. Am I expecting it to be harder? I do not know.

This particular weekend has been and is still a busy one. For some simply being busy helps with grief and I suppose that may be true for me too. Fewer folks showed up for the holiday grief share program. Perhaps that is because they are busy with Thanksgiving planning. Perhaps many simply do not want to think about it. I was not thinking about it until the opportunity arose to attend this special group.

This will be the first Thanksgiving Day – which by the way is my favorite festivity – without Cheryl being physically here. Last year she was not mentally here. I do not expect to not be sad and I will not apologize for feeling that way.

When the carpet cleaner folks are finished today I will decide where to put the Christmas tree. And after I make that decision I will get it out of the box and put it up. I did not do that last year. Perhaps I will start a new tradition this year and place the tree in a different spot. Cheryl will argue with me in my head. I look forward to it (the arguing).

Do not be a curmudgeon, Paul. Try your best to be if not happy, at least, up beat. When we gather this year let’s talk about the good times. I remember a Christmas Eve a long time ago when she insisted that I open her gift to me after we had come home. I wanted to do was go to bed and sleep after a night of celebration and maybe a little too much alcohol. She had made me a shirt. She was so proud of it. Those are the experiences that I want to remember. (I do not remember what I gave her that year.) I was then and am still now impressed with her ability as a seamstress. That is only one of my favorite memories.

Another more recent memory from maybe three years ago, she said to me, “Get your music machine out and turn on Christmas music.” She means Alexa. I cringed when she told to do that. I think I grumped a little too and then I went to get the hockey puck I move around to listen to music. A Christmas song or two in among others is okay. WARM 98’s idea of solid Christmas music, old, new, good, bad, chipmunks, Benedictine monks, rock and roll, country-western, some group of nuns, Bing Crosby, etc. a few years ago lost me as a listener. That was not a big deal to them since I rarely listened to their station. Five weeks of Christmas music is agony to my ear. I feared the worst was going to happen – Christmas carols from Halloween to Christmas. There would be no “Monster Mash”. I said loudly, “Alexa, play Christmas music!” Off we went into the holiday season. Cheryl insisted on making cookies that day and I helped her. (I wish I was not so reluctant to do so that day but that day is history.)

Cheryl often told me a story about peeking through the keyhole of the doorway to the living room and seeing all the toys around the Christmas tree. The keyhole got dark and the door flew open. (Uh oh.) There is more to the story and I wrote it down somewhere. I may spend the rest of the day looking for where I put it.

  • Smile!

Be thankful for what you have been given! Carpe the Holidays and Carpe this Diem and all the rest you are given.

Carpe Diem.

Listening

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Listen with your heart. It is quieter than your mind.

Listening to my youngest son talk to his oldest son lightens my heart. They have common interests in sports. I do not have a strong interest in professional sport. Those are merely noise off to the side of the snacks and other refreshment.

Many years ago I listened to my father when he told me, you should always listen to the other guy even if you think he is a jerk because he might have a good idea. Dad rarely expressed his judgment of others. He also understood within himself that listening does not happen while one is talking.

Mom had a phrase that I remember from childhood. She used to say, you have to pull up your own socks. I do not know where that came from but I took it to mean that one should seek help from others when necessary but it is up to oneself to get up and move on from any difficulty.

Today I am listening to my heart. I believe I need to listen to that part of me. How do I feel about all that has unfolded in my life. Political noise has had no effect on that. Life and living with Cheryl for three quarters of that time has. She has made me a better man. But so has listening to Mom and Dad and listening to my son’s conversation with his son. So has listening to my heart. In a lifetime of conversation, real conversation, and listening to others in my life, I have concluded that only I can pull up my own socks. And as I write this I think about the times I pulled up Cheryl’s no slip socks (her name for them) in the evening and put her pajamas on her to prepare for bed. She would not accept my help to do that in the morning when she got up.

Last week I retreated from the every day so that I could listen to my heart. I find that to be easier and more fulfilling if I distract myself after awhile with some occupation totally diverse to a previous concentration. This method has worked often for me through life. (The mantra is “sleep on it.”) A book of fiction or movie that has no moral to convey, a romantic comedy will do this for me. The distraction refreshes. I can look for help where I can find it but only I can pull up my socks.

I have been listening to the Grief Share videos purposefully for several weeks. I find myself talking and commenting to the various experts and listening to the people relating their grief story. There is a yin and yang to it all in my thoughts. I resist experts telling me what wine pairs well with what cheese. Occasionally, Dad will say be quiet and listen. (Maybe not often enough do you talk to me, Dad.) So, today I will listen with my heart.

I will remind myself that my concept of God is not the same as other’s concept of God. It is important to see past the literal when reading the Bible or the Quran or any religious text and just listen. Listen to your heart. Meditation an eastern concept helps with this. Prayer a western concept helps with this. Keep an open mind. Be still and just listen. Read Siddhartha. Be still. Listen.

Yes, Dad.

Carpe Diem.

Hurry, Haste

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What is your hurry?

I ask myself that question several times per day. What is your hurry?

My encouragement to myself is “what is your hurry?” At this stage of my life the answer is I do not know. (IDK)

I do know that when I close my eyes in the sunny shade of these woods and empty my mind as best I can, and then I open my eyes again the evergreens are a brilliant color with a deeper blue. Why is that? IDK. I have hurried through life without looking.

Why did I pick this trail for today’s activity? A day ago I wrote that I am not a child anymore and I am not youthful but I still see a world of wonder with youthful eyes. I remember long ago when Cheryl and I came here we hiked this trail more quickly than I do today. I am not in a hurry. Maybe that memory brought me up the cliff face. IDK. Today I stopped often to rest but also to look, think, remember and read and listen while I read.

I selected several books to bring with me on this retreat and personal retrospective. I selected first “So long and Thanks for the Fish” by Douglas Adams. I have read a couple of the others from the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy trilogy. There are five books altogether and the theme is cynicism and simultaneous mediocrity as we splash through life. Wonko the Sane explained why he became a hermit – “The sign read: hold stick near the center of its length. Moisten pointed end in mouth. Insert in tooth space blunt end next to gum. Use gentle in-out motion. It seemed to me,  he said, that any society that had so far lost its head to put such a detailed set of instructions on a package of toothpicks, was no longer a civilization that I could live in and stay sane.” We have a lot of things like that going on. “Caution HOT!” is printed on the side of the McDonald’s coffee cup.  I always think, “I hope so.” Why are warning signs like this posted? I passed several today on railings erected along the trail. The other side of the rail was a sheer drop. “DANGER No Entrance ” is printed on the sign.  IDK. I did not hurry through the small volume. Several times walking today I found myself reading on a convenient log or outcrop of rock.


Why did I select this book to read first? IDK but it has been many years since I read the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and the absurdity of the story line is compelling. Maybe it is time to review my life and start anew. Maybe I long for the next great thing. IDK. There is no hurry.

There will be time to take time for wonder. There is no hurry.

Carpe Diem.

Time Alone

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Cumberland Thoughts

I came to be alone with my thoughts for awhile and hike in the woods.

Leaves falling in a light breeze in a forest sounds like rain if you listen. They mark the end of a season. They make no promises about the next season. The plants go dormant and wait in hope of spring.

When hiking on leaf covered trails pick up your feet to avoid tripping on invisible rocks and tree roots. (Sometimes wisdom emerges during a morning Autumn hike in the woods.) This learning experience dissipated a mere hundred yards down the trail. The lesson was repeated to emphasize its importance.

Another wisdom arose nearing the end of this trail, one I often forget; “You are not a child or even young anymore. Those steep grades covered with leaves are not for you.”

There are many memories in this park and they are all mixed up in my heart and head. You, Cheryl, got the kids and grand kids to appear for my 60th birthday and our 38th anniversary. We came here many times. Now you are gone and I am here without you.

I have to leave that thought. This is an experiment with a new experience. I am still feeling my way along. Am I here because this is the new beginning? That old adage – This is the first day of the rest of your life! – popped into my mind. What should I do with it?

I talk about being old but I am not really. I can walk without assistance. I should focus on what is possible. I have not hiked trail #6 up to the DuPont lodge since Luke was seven or so. Up up and away. I made it and not too winded. (I am not afraid to tune into my body and take a break when it tells me.)

These are things that ran through my thoughts today as I followed two woodland trails. The first down to Cumberland falls from the DuPont lodge in the park. The second back up the cliff to the lodge for a bite of lunch.

This park has a lot of history for Cheryl and me. We came here on our honeymoon trip. We spent a week in one of the old cabins not far from the lodge. In those days (1970) the housekeeping folks showed up everyday with fresh towels and two rolls of toilet paper in what looked like an old milk delivery truck. We took some home, I think. We were poor. Later I would wonder what they thought we were doing that we needed so much toilet paper for. It was late August but I could not imagine how that factored into it.

After the kids were grown and on their own we came back here for our 25th wedding anniversary. I had thought we might do a big deal trip for that but here seemed appropriate. Afterward we came here many times on the weekend near our anniversary. It is close and special. Those particular trips, about ten or fifteen years worth, are special memories. On some trips we when to other Kentucky parks but we continued to return to Cumberland Falls. The last time was before the pandemic pandemonium.

I was thinking about that yesterday. Cheryl needed a cane to lean on then. I asked her when the last time was that we were here as I walked up the front steps into the lodge and she flashed me a picture of her holding her cane and holding the handrail to go down the steps in front. (She was stubborn about ramps.) Often she sends images to me.

Carpe Diem and the images as they become memories.

(Cartoon from Reddit.)

She’s Done it to Me

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She did it again this morning. At least that is what I thought when I found most of my ingredients out to remind myself what I intended to do today.

A couple years ago, when Cheryl was struggling physically more with Parkinson and her struggle with the dementia aspects of it was taking away her ability to follow simple directions, she coerced (maybe too strong of a word) me into helping her make cookies. I did not want to do it at the time.

Once or twice these were Snickerdoodles. And a couple other times we made chocolate chip cookies, the recipe is on the two pound bag of Nestle’s morsels. “You have to get the yellow bag!” she said to me once when I when I returned from the store by myself in the midst of the COVID pandemonium and price-shopped for supplies. “Those won’t work.” I was disheartened. I had purchased the store brand of chocolate chips. I argued my case for twenty-two milliseconds before realizing that there was no point in contesting the issue further. I returned to the store for the correct chips (“Morsels! It will say morsels on the bag. The bag is yellow.” She spoke to my back as I left.)

I can hear her voice. Little stories like this help me to recall her voice.

Yesterday, because I could avoid it no longer, I went to the grocery to restore my larder to its previous vigor. At the beginning my list had only two things, dried cranberries and raisins. Both of these I add to overnight oats which has become a new favorite breakfast treat. I have a pint Ball jar that is just the right size to contain a half cup of rolled oats, a cup of milk and whatever else I put in with those usually raisins or craisins some honey and chia seeds to set in the fridge overnight. I have also added at times cocoa powder, cinnamon, cardamon, vanilla or tahinni and used brown sugar instead of honey. This mixture goes well with my assembly of the coffee in the evening as well as drinking the coffee in the morning.

While putting all away I discovered that the bag of dried cranberries that I purchased would not fit into my quart jar I use to save dried fruit. Alas, some remained in the ziploc bag that only zips most of the time. I left them on the counter to become a healthy evening snack near the apples and bananas.

After preparing some lunch I hunted for some sweetness to satisfy my heritage and hit upon spreading the Nutella look-alike I purchased at Aldi sometime in the past on a saltine cracker and sprinkling cranberries on top. That tuned out pretty good. (If you are not a believer, try it.) I realized that I was inventing a variety of cookie – biscuit or digestive to the Brits out there – and heard Cheryl say, “You could try making a chocolate cookie with stuff in it.” I blame Cheryl when I hear these inventive thoughts about cooking. She was not very inventive with ingredients but very inventive with technique.

I launched myself into search for a basic chocolate cookie that I could modify with extra ingredients. Below is the final product:

  • 2 C. all purpose flour
  • 2/3 C. powdered cocoa
  • 1 tsp. baking soda
  • ¼ tsp. salt
  • 1 ½ C. white sugar
  • 1 C. unsalted butter
  • 2 large eggs
  • 2 tsp. vanilla extract
  • 1 C. chocolate morsels (in the yellow bag)
  • 1 C. dried cranberries
  • ½ C. smashed walnuts (crushed in the bag but I smash them further)

I creamed the butter, eggs, vanilla and sugar for a bit. Whisked the flour, salt, soda and cocoa together in a separate bowl dry and then dumped them into my mixer. (I bought a new mixer recently. It has extra paddles.) After a bit of mixing I tried out my folding paddle and dumped in the rest of the ingredients.

Bake in a 350F (177C) – medium oven 8 to 10 minutes. This lump of cookie dough makes about 4 dozen if you use a teaspoon from your table wear set to scoop and spoon some on to UN-greased cookie sheets like I did. (My mind always wants to grease the cookie sheet and Cheryl always tells me, “No!”)

After 8 minutes on the timer, I rotated the cookie sheets in the oven and added 4 minutes to the time. This worked for me because I dislike (maybe hate) chewy soft cookies. There is something special about just the right crunch that makes me smile.

Cheryl! You turned me into a cookie recipe experimenter. It is all your fault. (Dammit.) I love you and you are right. These are good. The tricky part will be spreading them out in my eating habits. I have eaten three while writing this story. They go well with coffee.

In future experiments I may try crushed peanuts and raisins. GORP cookies sounds good to me.

I wonder which wine pairs well. Pinot Noir? Chardonnay?

A conundrum. There was a big one there in the gap. It was begging to be eaten before I took this picture and I obliged.

Carpe Diem. (life is better with cookies and chocolate)