If you looked into my eyes…

If you would have looked into my eyes two weeks ago,  and had the fortitude to lock eyes with me for more than a few seconds, you would have seen brokenness and pain.

Our eyes really are windows to our soul.

I discovered that truth on a whole new level last weekend.

I need to back up just a little…..

A few of you who know me personally, know that I have not been able to cry since  I was 16 . (I’m currently  54)

I can pinpoint the  day it happened.

My brother and I were  wrestling and it went from a good natured match to an all out fight.  He kicked my butt.  To make matters worse, he was a year younger  and it happened in the presence of my mom and dad.

I wept.

I can still remember the shame and humiliation.  I swore in my heart I would NEVER  Ever, experience that sort of thing again.

NEVER.

Well, unbeknownst to me, somehow, deep within the recesses of my soul, I flipped a switch and could no longer cry.  Only once in the 38 years since do I remember weeping…I won’t go into that now, just to say, it was in the midst of some intense emotional pain.

So last weekend during the course of a men’s conference, one of the things we covered was the fact that all of us have areas in our hearts of brokenness and shame. …

Things  people have said to us.  (or not)

Things we’ve intentionally done that nobody knows except us.

Broken relationships.

Abuse

Physical things about ourselves we are ashamed of.

it might even be your name….  the list is endless, but the results  are still the same.   We begin to  carry around this ever increasing load of hurt and shame.

I was able to identify 4 very specific hurts last weekend.

That situation with my brother.

Secondly, a vague but very real, dislike for how I looked as a youngster growing up:

My name if you can believe that..

and finally, on a very personal note, the fact that I was a very late bloomer…didn’t physically mature into late into my senior year of high school.   The shame and embarrassment of those years in high school  really did a number on my self esteem.  Gym class was Hell.  Yep, I was a runt all through high school.  Not the last one picked when we chose teams.but one of the last.

All of it is  bull shit (that’s german for garbage) .

Another word picture…

Our hearts are full of  cracks. They leak like a sieve….and until those  hurts are brought into the open and addressed, we will  attempt to fill those cracks with anything that  gives  temporary relief.  Food, shopping, sex, alcohol, people,  $, our jobs, blogging, e-mail, face book, video games, hobbies taken to excess, etc.

None of it lasts.  Before long,  I’m  looking for another fix.

The food addict, is  no different than the shop-a-haulic or the sex addict.  All three of them are dealing with the same crap, just going about it in different ways.

If someone cared enough to look to look  deeply into our eyes…no sunglasses on …. they would see the pain.

To make a long story short, God touched all 4 of those hurts in a very specific way.

I no longer feel their weight.

I look @ that picture of my younger self and like what I see. I LOVE my given name,  (my real name isn’t Doug btw/ it’s Douglas) I am in touch with my emotions…(I wept at least 4 or 5 times last weekend) and finally, I’m OK with being a late bloomer. I suspect it  saved me from a lot of heartache.

I’m sure  there are  probably still  pockets of brokenness to discover, but for now,  I don’t have the same compulsions to check e-mail, face book , or even blog…all ways I think I was trying to connect with people in a way to satisfy the longings in my heart.

Thanks for checking in.    DM

The voice in my head

Not to worry,  I’m not really hearing voices (yet)

As I was helping my wife clean this morning I had  negative   emotions dogging my every step.

When I stopped long enough  to understand what and why  I was feeling this way, I  couldn’t do it.

All the dark  thoughts popped back in their holes like moles in a mole game.

It  took me ten minutes  to put a label on what I was feeling.

“Disapproval”

I was feeling the emotions of disapproval

Disapproval: criticize.  to think (something) wrong  censure or condemn in opinion. 

(the opposite of  feeling like someone was giving me their blessing)

My wife had been asked to  tidy up a  senior housing apartment for a friend who was moving her mom to Seattle this week.

I offered to help out because my morning had suddenly freed up.

That sounds simple enough don’t you think?

Help wife with cleaning =  showing her love.

For the first 30 minutes I battled these dark negative feelings…

“What am I doing taking time off cleaning out a frig????

”   I  should be on the job working!!!!”

On and on like a broken record….

I am self employed…which means I can call my own hours.

I am between projects this morning/ the job I had hoped to do today was not ready so if I wasn’t helping my wife out, I would be home puttering in the shop/ picking apples/ etc.  no big deal breakers there

So where do these negative feelings come from?

They rob me of joy and energy like a short on a battery.

Instead of feeling like I am doing something good to encourage my wife, I am feeling like “someone” would disprove of what I am doing with my time.

Who in the heck is this “someone ” anyway???

I’d like to tell them to zip it, because I didn’t ask for their opinion

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These are not life and death issues

I hesitate to even write about them,  but  these low-grade negative feelings  rob me of my  peace of mind just as effectively as the bigger stuff.

Do I battle this stuff all the time? nada

I can take a nap  with the best of them pretty much  anytime the opportunity presents itself.

It wasn’t always that way.

For the first  several years after I got married and moved away from the farm, I battled the negative feelings….

even after I was a 1000 miles from home , I could feel  that pressure to be productive.

Not any more.

So it kind of takes me by surprise to discover there are still a few old  moles  tunneling around the recesses of my mind.

I’m kind of optimistic at this moment.

Whenever I can catch this sort of thing and drag it into the open, into the light, it has a way of breaking the power  of it.

Negative thoughts thrive in darkness.

They thrive in secrecy.

If you’re batting some deep dark  thing right now,

find someone safe,

someone you trust and share it with them.

If you don’t know anyone, feel free to tell me.

Leave me a comment and I’ll get back to you one on one.

I am pretty much  unflappable.

I don’t have to know who you are.  In fact, I don’t want to know.

That isn’t the point.

Nobody should have to carry dark things by themselves.

We are not designed to.

You’ll have to excuse me now while I take a nap. DM

What’s under YOUR grow light? ;-)

Do you know what’s more fun than growing weed in your basement?

Heirloom tomatoes!

Why? Because

A.  they’re  legal

and B.

Instead of  only being able to choose from a dozen  varieties at your local garden center, you can choose from several hundred  different varieties of tomatoes.

In  March I started two trays of Brandy wine’s  in our basement:

Brandy wine tomatoes @ 8 weeks.

My Mom reminded me a couple of weeks ago  to set them out  a few hours  a day, a  couple of weeks before   sticking them in the ground.

(The process is called “hardening”)

Different gardeners use different technique but basically, the idea is to introduce  your young plants  to the forces of nature gradually.

…if you don’t, the first good wind and they’ll all snap off.

I set them on the east side of our house, next to the compost pile.  It’s kind of sheltered there and out of direct sun light.

They were still  pretty beat up by the end of the first day.

I  put them back  under the grow light, and within a couple of days, they  started to recover.

It reminded me of a true story I’d read about  few years ago.  The mature trees in an arboretum  mysteriously began falling over.  What they eventually discovered was this….because the trees had grown up inside, in such a sheltered environment,  they had never experienced adversity.  As they matured, the cell structure in the trees was so weak they collapsed under their own weight.

I’ve been thinking about that all day today.

The  relationship between adversity and personal growth.

As much as I hate adversity, I know  that a certain amount of it can actually be good for me.

Right now, I’m roofing a 2 story farm-house.

At the end of the day I come home mentally exhausted.

I am  responsible  not only for my own  safety, but the safety of two other men.

We are installing a new type of metal roof.

So in addition to  safety concerns, I’m also dealing with a learning curve.

(At the end of the day, that roof better not leak, or you know who’s phone is going to be ringing the first time it rains….)

Did I mention, I hate heights

Yep, a carpenter who hates heights…go figure….

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Went to a walk-a-thon 3 weeks ago for our grandson Rigg.   One of the disabilities he has been identified with is Angelman’s Syndrome.

My daughter deals with adversity and stress    24/7

One of the songs playing  in the back ground at the walk-a-thon was a song by Kelly Clarkson…..

“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger…”

When I was watching that video tonight.  it reminded me of one of my blogging friends

If you’ve been a reader here for any length of time, you know one of my few pet peeves is  religious people who spew out “trite platitudes”

If you ever see me in a receiving line at a funeral home..I want to warn you in advance..don’t..and I repeat, don’t  mumble some trite platitude to comfort me.

It won’t be pretty.

I say that here because undoubtedly someone at some point, is going to read this post and think I’m spouting off simplistic trite platitudes in response to the  adversity and suffering life can sometimes dish out.

Not on your life.

Some of the tomatoes I started out with  didn’t make it.

Others are still alive..

barely….

Here are some pictures of the ones  still standing  tonight:

Brandy wine tomato thick and healthy stalk  starting to bloom

Notice how robust that stem is

Down but not out

Broken and starting over

As always, thanks for taking the time to read my “stuff”   DM

Some of last years crop

Oatmeal days

Talking with a nice lady on the phone.  She had a case of the midwinter spiritual rot.  And a terminal cold she’s had since September 1.

“Well,”  rasps she, ‘you don’t ever get depressed, do you?”

“Listen,” says I, “I get lows it takes extension ladders to get out of.”

“So, what do you do?” asks she. “I mean, what DO YOU DO?”

Nobody ever pinned me down quite like that before.  They usually ask what I think they should do.

My solace is not religion or yoga or rum or even deep sleep.  It’s Beethoven.  As in Ludwig van.  He’s my ace in the hole.  I put his Ninth Symphony on the stereo, pull the earphones down tight, and lie down on the floor.  the music comes on like the first day of Creation.

And I think about old Mr B.  He knew a whole lot about depression and unhappiness.  He moved around from place to place, trying to find the right place.  His was a lousy love life, and he quarreled with his friends all the time.  A rotten nephew worried him deeply – a pianist.  He wanted to sing well, too.  But when still quite young, he began to lose his hearing.  Which is usually bad news for pianists and singers.  By 1818, when he was forty-eight, he was stone-cold deaf.  Which makes it all the more amazing that he finished his great Ninth Symphony five years later.  He never really heard it!  He just thought it!

So I lie there with my earphones on, wondering if it ever could have felt to Beethoven like it sounds in my head.  The crescendo rises, and my sternum starts to vibrate.  And by the time the final kettledrum drowns out all those big F’s, I’m on my feet, singing at the top of my lungs in gibberish German with the mighty choir, and jumping up and down as the legendary Fulghumowski directs the final awesome moments of the END OF THE WORLD AND THE COMING OF GOD AND ALL HIS ANGELS, HALLELUJAH! HALLELUJAH! WWHHOOOOOOOOOOM-KABOOMBAM-BAAAAAAAA!

Uplifted, exalted, excited, affirmed, and overwhelmed am I MANALIVE!  Out of all that sorrow and trouble, out of all that frustration and disappointment, out of all that deep and permanent silence, came all that majesty-that outpouring of JOY and exaltation!  He defied his fate with jubilation!

And I never can resist all that truth and beauty.  I just can’t manage to continue to sitting around in my winter ash heap, wringing my hands and feeling sorry for myself, in the face of THAT MUSIC!  Not only does it wipe out spiritual rot, it probably cures colds, too.

So what’s all this noise about winter and rain and bills and taxes? says I to me.  So who needs all this talk about failure and confusion and frustration?  What’s all this noise about life and people being no damned good?

In the midst of oatmeal days, I find within Beethoven’s music an irresistible affirmation.  In deep, spiritual winter, I find inside myself the sun of summer.  And some day, some incredible December night when I am very rich, I am going to rent me a grand hall and a great choir and a mighty symphony orchestra, and stand on the podium and conduct the Ninth.  And I will personally play the kettledrum part all the way through to the glorious end, while simultaneously singing along at the very top of my lungs.  And in the awesome silence that follows, I will bless all-the-gods-that-be for Ludwig van Beethoven, for his Ninth, and his light.

MANALIVE!

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Mrs DM came home from a long day of working with disabled kids .  She looked tired.   , I suggested we retire to our old favorite stuffed chairs  and I would read,…

as in out loud,  while she sipped on a cup of blueberry tea.

I grabbed one of  Fulghum’s books off the shelf.

I periodically post excerpts of Fulghum’s books on my blog.  On the right hand side of the blog home page you’ll see  Robert Fulghum listed.

click it, it will take you to the archives.

Now if you want to know what I like to listen to on  my “oatmeal days,”  my sound of choice is U2.

Personal favorite Shake Rattle and Hu.

I’ll  watch the whole album.

Here’s a little teaser to wet your appetite:

DM

no regrets

In 1987  I penned a list of long-term  personal goals.

It wasn’t as easy as you think.

I never know who is reading my stuff so if you’re a regular, bear with me 30 seconds while I give the context

I was 29 years old. Married to a very supportive wife, 3 young children, working full-time as a carpenter, pursuing schooling on the side to potentially be a marriage and family counselor.   VERY  involved @ our local church in youth work and Saturday work days.  Things were very tight financially  but overall, I felt things were going pretty well.  My wife felt otherwise.  Plus we were living 1000 miles from home.  Things came to a head.  She was angry because she saw me reaching out to other people’s kids while ours were being neglected, doing work on other people’s homes while stuff @ our home went untouched. I’m embarrassed now to even think I was so  dense

There’s a song by Sanctus Real on Christian radio right now that captures that time in my life perfectly

I look around and see my wonderful life
Almost perfect from the outside
In picture frames, I see my beautiful wife
Always smiling, but on the inside

Oh, I can hear her saying

Lead me with strong hands
Stand up when I can’t
Don’t leave me hungry for love
Chasing dreams, but what about us?

Show me you’re willing to fight
That I’m still the love of your life
I know we call this our home
But I still feel alone

I see their faces, look in their innocent eyes
They’re just children from the outside
I’m working hard, I tell myself they’ll be fine
They’re independent, but on the inside

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I dropped out of everything.  Focused my energies where they belonged…first and foremost a husband and father.

Made a list of long-term goals (back to where I started this post)

I  set some long-term goals.  A 5 year goal, a 10 year goal,  a 20 year goal , a 30 year goal  and lend of life goals.

Here’s  a portion of my end of life goal:

#1  I would have loved my wife, children, brothers and sisters with no regrets.

#2   I would have a  home in the countryside  with animals and growing things.

#3  That I would have been faithful to God to the end...that I ran the race well.

(Life is a marathon/ not a  50 yard dash)  If I’m going to make the long haul, then by golly, I need to know how to set a long-term pace/ and that includes knowing how to live a balanced life)

We live in such a materialistically saturated culture.

I know financial pressures first hand. I know what it’s like to not have enough money to  take the kids to the dentist. Clothes shop @ the  Salvation Army.  Grocery shopping @ Aldi’s.   Not have enough $ for postage stamps.   Drive old cars donated to help out families like ours.

I also know that in some mysterious way, I have been led.  We just celebrated 33 years of marriage this past weekend and our relationship is still smoke’n!

We survived the teen years and I have great lines of communication with all 4 of our children.

My relationship with my parents and siblings has never been better.

Came across a list from the book by Bronnie Ware titled The Top 5 Regrets of the Dying

In it, she lists the top five regrets of those lying on their death beds.

1. I wish I had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.
2. I wish I had not worked so hard.
3. I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.
4. I wish I had kept in touch with my friends.
5. I wish that I had let myself be happier

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I read that list and can honestly say @ this point.  I have no regrets. None, Nada. Period.

I am so thankful things came to a head back in 1987.   If you’re reading this post and are wondering about your life purposes…your goals, if you feel trapped…you know what I’m talking about.  This is not a bad place to be.

It may mean in the deep recesses of your sub-conscience  the real you, is crying out for you to stop long enough to set some goals.

Quit running a hundred miles an hour…..

in the wrong direction…

DM

If you’re a parent of a special needs child

 What I would tell you….

I sensed someone watching me as I comforted my daughter after a particularly traumatizing dentist appointment at the Children’s Hospital. I looked up and saw you staring at us from across the waiting lounge. I didn’t pay much attention, as I have grown accustomed to the curious eyes of onlookers. Our daughter was born 7 ½ years ago and after an abrupt lack of oxygen at birth, she changed the course of our lives forever. Perhaps, our lives unfolded exactly as they were meant to — they just didn’t unfold in the way we had imagined or planned.

I talked to my daughter, kissed her and hugged her. I was giving her a brief break before putting her through the next traumatic experience of the day ~ the car ride home. Having cerebral palsy is the least of her worries but this condition can turn a car seat into a torture chamber.

I stood up to gather our things, my daughter in my arms, and it was then that I noticed you were holding an infant. It was difficult to know for certain how old she was. I knew immediately, though, that you were one of us. I knew that only recently your life had changed drastically and you sat here in this Children’s Hospital wondering, “How did we get here?” I should have recognized that shocked stare because I once had it, too. And I assume that the man sitting next to you, looking equally tired and shocked, was your husband.

I made my way toward the doors and as I passed you, our eyes met and I smiled at you. You smiled back and for a moment I knew that you knew that I understood.

If I could, I would tell you although you might not believe it right now, you will be okay. I would tell you to dig deep within yourself because you will find the strength and resilience somehow and it will surprise you. I would tell you to honour your feelings and let the tears flow when they need to. You will need the energy for more important things than holding in emotions.

I would tell you that the man sitting next to you might cope differently and he might even want to run the other way. But I would tell you to hang on because he is scared and he really doesn’t want to leave you. I would tell you to look after yourself so that you can care for your daughter. Don’t underestimate the power of good nutrition, exercise, sleep, supplements and an empathetic therapist.

I would tell you that grief will come and it will confuse you because how can something that brings such joy also bring such sadness? I would tell you to let people into your lives to help you. Our children really do require a village to raise them. Access all of the services and resources available. Find someone who can learn how to care for your child so that you can have breaks and so you and your partner can go on dates… even little ones like a twenty minute stroll outside holding hands, sharing wine on the deck or even catching a movie.

I would tell you that you know your child best of all and no matter what you are told by the doctors and other professionals who will be a part of your life, YOU know the answers. You will teach them about your child. At times you will question the validity of your intuition but after a while you will become profoundly aware of how accurate your gut feelings are when it comes to your child.

I would tell you not to be a martyr. Caring for your child will require tremendous focus and unimaginable energy and it can burn you out and make you sick when you least expect it. I would tell you to let your guard down along the way so that you can stay healthy in your mind and spirit.

I would tell you to seek out other mothers like yourself. This is, indeed, the road less travelled and you will feel very alone along the way especially in the company of healthy children and their parents. Yes, you will feel very isolated but know that we are here. Sometimes you have to look a little harder but we are here. You can find us online, in support groups and wandering the halls of the Children’s Hospital.

I would tell you that you will know far too much about the human anatomy, neurology, gastro-enterology, feeding tubes, pharmaceuticals, and so on, than a mother should ever have to know. I would also tell you to do some research to inform yourself but be very careful not to be overwhelmed by the internet and all of the information available to you. Having some trust in what your child’s specialists tell you can be very grounding. Other mothers and fathers of children like ours can be a wealth of information.

I would tell you that this isn’t an easy life. It is tough: there is no doubt about it but you are very capable and the rewards are great. You may never see your child graduate from university, walk down the aisle or give birth to your grandchildren but you will feel pure joy when your child laughs for the first time at the age of 3 years and 8 months. You will celebrate the moment when you connect with your non-verbal child. You will call your spouse at work to tell him that she has gained 4oz. because weight gain is always a struggle with our children.

I would tell you that you will have to witness procedures and surgeries and suffering well beyond what any parent should ever have to bear. But, I would tell you that you will be courageous and comforting because your child will be experiencing far more suffering than any child should ever have to endure.

I would tell you that your life will not resemble the life you had planned. It will be as though you landed in Holland instead of Italy but after some time, you will adjust the dreams you had and this reality will be normal to you. You will dream new dreams.

I would tell you that you might find yourself staring death in the face during close calls. You will be asked to fill out DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) forms and although you might make decisions to not resuscitate in the event of a cardiac arrest, when the moment arises, you will panic to think that it could all come to an end. And I would tell you to not feel guilty in the darkest moments when you pray to God to take your child if it would mean the suffering would end. This might horrify you but know that your love for your child is so great that at times you will believe that death would be a blessing.

I would tell you that others will not get it. They can’t. This is a very unique and complex journey on all levels. We cannot expect anyone to get it. And I would tell you that people — the cashier at the grocery store or your insurance broker or even your hair stylist — will say stupid things like, “God only gives these special kids to special mothers” and “God will only give you what you can handle.” You will nod and smile but eventually you will look them right in the face and tell them that those simple maxims are a bunch of bullshit.

I would tell you that imagining your future will be bittersweet and may involve a Plan A and a Plan B. Plan A will be what you will do if your child outlives the predicted life expectancy set forth by the experts and Plan B will come into play if they do not. You will catch yourself casually discussing your future with the code phrases of Plan A and Plan B.

I would tell you that grief will creep up on you after years have passed and you least expect it like at a wedding when the father and bride have their first dance or when you hear a birth announcement. It will also creep up on you when you see yourself in a new mother who is just beginning this journey.

I would tell you that you will recognize her because she is you from 7 ½ years ago. And you will want to run to her and hug her and tell her that everything will be okay. You will want to save her from the pain and the hardship and the unknown.

But I would tell you that when you find yourself sitting at the Children’s Hospital and you see a new mom and dad who are just starting this journey, you smile at them and walk by as they have their own path to travel and it will be different than yours. It may be longer or shorter. It may be more or less complicated.

I would tell you that her searching eyes are looking for some sign that she will survive this. And you, smiling as you pass, with your child arching all over your shoulder, will let her know that yes, she will survive this and may even thrive.

Julie Keon
June 29th 2011

Julie Keon’s website is  here

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Our daughter Angie, posted a link to that letter tonight on facebook.  She and her husband Matt are the parents of two beautiful children.  Their youngest Rigg is a special needs child.

Driving Mr Rigg

If you get bored….

“Now let me tell you about Larry Walters, my hero.  Walters is a truck driver, thirty-three years old.  He is sitting in his lawn chair in his backyard, wishing he could fly.  For as long as he could remember, he wanted to go up.  To be able to just rise right up in the air and see for a long way.  The time, money, education, and opportunity to be a pilot were not his.  Hang gliding was too dangerous, and any good place for gliding was too far away.  So he spent a lot of summer afternoons sitting in his backyard in his ordinary old aluminum lawn chair – the kind with webbing and rivets.  Just like the one you’ve got in your backyard.

The next chapter of this story is carried by newspapers and television.  There’s old Larry Walters up in the air over Los Angeles.  Flying at last.  Really getting UP there.  Still sitting in his aluminum lawn chair, but it’s hooked on to forty-five helium-filled surplus weather balloons.  Larry has a parachute on, a CB radio, a six-pack of beer, some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and a B B gun to pop some of the balloons to come down.  And instead of being just a couple of hundred feet over his neighborhood, he shot up eleven thousand feet, right through the approach corridor to the Los Angeles International Airport.

Walters is a taciturn man.  When asked by the press why he did it, he said; ” You can’t just sit there.”  When asked if he was scared, he answered; “Wonderfully so.”  When asked if he would do it again, he said ; “Nope.”  And asked if he was glad he did it, he grinned from ear to ear and said, “Oh, yes.”

The human race sits in its chair.  On the one hand is the message that says there is nothing left to do.  And the Larry Walterses of the earth are busy tying balloons to their chairs, directed by dreams and imagination to do their thing.

The human race sits in its chair.  On the one hand is the message that the human  situation is hopeless.  And the Larry Walteres of the earth soar upward knowing anything is possible, sending back the message from eleven thousand feet: “I did it, I really did it.  I’m FLYING!”

It’s the spirit here that counts.  The time may be long, the vehicle may be strange or unexpected.  But if the dream is held close to the heart, and imagination is applied to what there is close at hand, everything is still possible.

But wait!  Some cynic from the edge of the crowd insists that human beings still can’t really fly.  Not like birds, anyway.  True.  But somewhere in some little garage, some maniac with a gleam in his eye is scarfing vitamins and minerals supplements, and practicing flapping his arms faster and faster….”

From the book All I really need to know I learned in Kindergarten by Robert Fulghum

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We like many of you are in the middle of a killer heat wave.

Don’t feel like doing much of anything.  So, to pass the time, I will sometimes pick up Robert Fulghum and read a story or two from one of his books, out loud to my wife.

Thought it would be fun to share one of them with you tonight. DM

The Food Routines Of My life

 The urge to  lay up locally  grown food  has gripped me like a mad squirrel this Fall.

  Dehydrating heirloom  tomatoes…

 blanching fresh green beans:

(those are little potatoes from our garden and onions from the farmers market  I mixed with the beans )

And picking apples….

 bushels and bushels of apples

2010 basket of Cortland

picture of our son helping  pick the Cortland

Ever heard of the term Locavore?   

Me neither…until this year.

 (be sure to check out that link/ lots of great information)

Well, I”m a new convert 

      Quoting now…

“ Locavores  are people who pay attention to where their food comes from and commit to eating local food as much as possible. The great thing about eating local is that it’s not an all-or-nothing venture. Any small step you take helps the environment, protects your family’s health and supports small farmers in your area.”
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I need to back up just a little….

This past March, I realized I was the heaviest I’ve ever been.  I don’t really take too much stock in  those ideal body weight charts.   At my height, if I were to  follow their recommendations, I would look like a stick man. 

   Having said that,  I knew I needed to lose about 35 pounds to get down to what I consider my ideal weight.     I talked with my baby sister who is an RN, and  has managed to stay  fit for several years and is not obsessive about it.  The last thing I wanted to do was go on some fad diet that lasted for a spell, then  wind up fatter than before once the motivation wore off. 

That sort of thing happens all-the-time.

 I was looking for a routine that was long-term and simple.   One that  didn’t have me counting calories, buying expensive foods or taking supplements.   

Well,  I found what I was looking for.

 I am not kidding.  It is so simple a 6 yr old can do it and it works.

  You don’t hear a lot about it because 

A….  it cuts out the middle man who wants to sell you “something”

and B….It’s so simple, you’re tempted to think  you’ve missed something. 

  Why  isn’t everybody doing it????? 

My thought exactly

Here in layman’s terms  are two new routines we’ve been doing with food that has enabled me to keep shedding weight after I lost  the first 10 pounds:
 Suggestion#1 

Cut out  95% of the junk food out of my diet.- biggest help with this was  to  go through our  cupboards and remove the temptations…

    (Like my sister told me,” You don’t have to be anal about it..when we  get together and mom offers you a piece of pecan pie- you don’t have to be rude..eat it. )

Suggestion # 2 

The less processed  the better it is. 

The closer it looks to how God made it when you eat it the better.  This is where becoming a Locavore comes into play as well.

For example,  instead of eating delicious crunchy potato chips for break, I’ve switched to eating english walnuts…right out of the shell.  

Our bodies  crave   fat.  

 Certain foods will satisfy that craving while others don’t. 

 I could eat a whole bag of carrots, still feel hungry, still crave  fat, and say the heck with it, or  eat a small handful of walnuts  that  calms the beast.

Stay away as much as possible from white sugar and white breads.   Those food types  are highly addictive, and  create within us  the craving to eat more of the same.  And sugar morphs   into the fat I’m   trying to shed.

 final story.

     I did a  remodel job for young family recently.   Both of them work like dogs. Later that day, I saw the wife walking  3 miles from home.    She told me she does this just about every day, walks 5 miles  but  is not able to lose  the weight.  She just couldn’t understand it.     The last thing I was going to do was talk to her about loosing weight, but since this is my blog and nobody is forcing you to read this I’m going to tell you what I wished I could have told her…. I know she loves to bake.    Baking for her family is one of the ways she expresses her love …and I am certainly not going to diss that.    But it is a two-pronged effort..physical activity and what we eat.  Until you and I are willing to look @ the foods we eat without getting all defensive we probably won’t experience any significant  changes, unless you get a tape worm   I hear they keep the pounds off.

What I  eat and how much I weigh  is such a personal topic.  It ranks right up there with how I spend my money, sex, and politics.

  I’d love to hear your thoughts….

Thin Places

  “Doug, I was wondering if you had any more apples that needed picking….I really enjoyed doing that last weekend, it was so relaxing.”    Message on the answering machine from our friend Marilyn

     Later when Marilyn did stop out, she told me she felt so relaxed after an hour in the orchard picking apples, it was “better than going to a therapist” to which I replied..”I think we should call it “tree therapy…that will be $20.00 please “

 :-)

 Then I read this in the local paper last night:

   “Whenever I’m feeling sorry about losing Dan, I come out here, and it’s gone, just like that.  There’s something about the healing power of working in gardens.” 

      Celtic believers have long maintained  the veil between us and God is thinner in a garden.

    (I’d like to  add, in an orchard)   They called those places and experiences  ”Thin places”

  “In simple terms a ‘thin place’ is a place where the veil between this world and the next  is thin….

      I (DM) promise not to get all new-age on you, but I can’t tell you the number of times someone has commented when they’ve visited our place, they’ve experienced a profound sense of peace and tranquility, and on occasion  had their  spiritual batteries recharged.

     It happens to me    all      the      time.

     My grandpa Conley  used to say, he felt closer to God when he was fishing than going to church which was why he did the former.   At the time, I thought, yea, right, that’s just an excuse Grandpa, but now, 30 years later,  I would have to say he was probably being honest and not just making a lame excuse.

    Here are a few pictures I’ve taken in our East Orchard:

Early morning in the East Orchard

Mist in the Orchard

  Pruning

     Pruning is the art of trimming an apple tree to keep it healthy and fruitful.   I regularly find myself thinking about the spiritual implications in my own personal life. 

     If you don’t prune an apple tree (and I’ve intentionally let a couple of them go without  just to see what would happen)…the fruit is small…lots of little apples that aren’t worth that much.

     You also prune diseased or dead branches  to keep them from spreading to the rest of the tree….sort of like having certain relationships/ or activities a person might be involved in that are not good for them.

     Fruitfulness

This is not original with me, but if you’re someone who thinks about having a fruitful life…think long and hard about the fruitfulness of an apple tree.  Have you ever seen an apple tree grunting? 

Nope, me neither

They just quietly stay connected to their root system drawing nourishment from the ground, combined with  sunshine and  rain..and wha-la…in it’s season, it produces a crop of fruit.

    All  apple trees don’t produce the same type of fruit either.  Did you know there are over 2000 varieties of apple trees world-wide? 

  So why do we think our fruit need to all look the same?

    Harvest

  The biggest rush I get however, is harvest time.  I get a tiny little jolt of joy every time I remove an apple from the tree branch.   Some of you will probably think I’m crazy, but sometimes I am so overwhelmed  by the sheer volume of apples on a branch I’ve said “Thank you” to the tree as I’ve picked.   *(probably got that from watching movies where the native americans would say something over the buffalo they’ve just killed):-)

__________________________________________________________

continuing 1 hr later….

    I just came in from digging a couple of hills of new potatoes to make for breakfast for our B and B guests…noticed the 2nd crop of green beans need picking today.  This reminds me of another mystery I’ve thought about as I’ve worked outside in the garden and orchard. 

 A Seed

       One seed becomes a plant,  not over night mind you, but over the course of several weeks.  When I plant the seed, I don’t go back and dig it up to see if it’s growing.  nope,  I might water it, pull some weeds, etc. but leave the original seed alone. similar to  life…I “plant” seeds of kindness and love, then often times/ not always that seed takes root and begins to germinate, and something beautiful begins to form.

    Well, it’s about time for coffee.   Wife is probably wondering where in the heck I am. 

Friday morning in Iowa

    It’s a Friday morning in Iowa.    There is a gentle rain coming down.  All my work today  is outside , so   I have  time to put together a pictorial highlight of the past several weeks…

     A work story…

     

      End view of a 3000 sq ft addition I’ve been working on. 

       We started the addition early May.       As a general contractor, if I were asked to  bid on a project like this, since there are so many unknowns , I would need to include a pretty hefty profit margin just to make sure I covered my expenses.  Instead, I’m doing the job on a time and material basis.  If you know and trust your contractor, that is the only way to go.    

      Things are going good @ this point, but mid June  we were hit with a series of several strong thunder storms, that caused considerable water damage in the existing house.

(I took this picture of storm #4 rolled through our area that week)

  The stress from that couple of weeks  pushed me to the limit.  I read a scripture that  spoke to me    It compared the stress in life to being in smelting furnace    Right now, the furnace has cooled back down.

  A music story…

         Danielle Gasparro  spent a couple of days  with us, giving a mini concert in our kitchen.   She was in the middle of concert tour of the Midwest.   We also have a B and B and have been known to barter  on occasion.    (bed for some music) 

Danielle  Gasparro singing her heart out in our kitchen.

She plays pretty regularly in the New York City area. 

My work truck story…

     I had been having problems with my Toyota Tundra for weeks.  It stumped 2 different local mechanics- so finally I decided to bite the bullet and take it in to the Toyota dealership.  I got a call an hour later from the dealership, informing me they were not going to be able to fix my truck either…. apparently it was on a recall list for defective frames.  (In the back of my mind, I thought, right…just another way to make me trade it in on a new model.)  I protested- because while it was an older truck, it was paid for.  Couldn’t they just go ahead and fix it anyway?  I would rather pay $750.00 and have my old truck back than be saddled with truck payments.

    I come to find out, it was a legitimate program.  They did not want me to trade it on a new model..they just wanted to get it off the road for my personal safety.  I got a call the next day- they offered me 3 times what the truck was worth- no strings attached.  All I had to do was drop it off and they would cut me a check.   I then started looking for Toyota Tundra.  (How many other car manufacturers treat their customers like that?  )   Found one on Craigslist….2 years newer, 50,000 less miles, full size vs. mid size….  I am so glad those first two mechanics weren’t able to fix the problem.

2001 Toyota Tundra compliments of Toyota Company Recall program

A claw foot tub story…. 

Picture of antique claw foot tub we have for sale.  First $500 gets it.  I will deliver it anywhere in the US for additional fee.

And finally, a grandchild story…

Picture of Addy and Rigg      Addy told me  she likes hanging out with me the other day.  I am very thankful.  This past Winter I realized my primary approach to  relating with her was with  low level teasing.    Harmless enough right?  Well,  what got me thinking was something Addy had mentioned about another person in her life who enjoys teasing her.  She didn’t like him.  She just turned 4- so she hasn’t learned how to send mixed messages.

The rain has stopped.  Need to think about going to work.  How about you?  How are you doing?   What’s been happening in your life the past couple of months?    As most bloggers would tell you, we love comments…even if it’s just to say “Hi”   As always, thanks for taking the time to read my stuff. DM