“The shell must break before the bird can fly. “
       – Tennyson

      Len was a carpenter on my dad’s construction  crew when I was 16.  He was in his 30’s - single, quiet, hard-working, and painfully shy.  I remember thinking to myself ,  - if I didn’t somehow  get a handle on the shyness in my life, I would turn out just like Len -  and that thought   scared the crapola  out of me ( Crapola  is Low German for Hell BTW )   ;-)

     From the 7th grade until my senior year in high school,   I can  count on one hand the number of one on one conversations I had with girls.  That is no lie-  my mind would  go blank, I would mentally freeze.

     In addition to being shy, I  struggled with low self-worth- I’m sure they are interrelated.   I thought I was ugly- my ears were too big, I hated my name, and I was a very late bloomer.   When I read the story of the Ugly Duckling, I totally see myself in that   bird.   

        Shyness does not have to be a life long curse, though I seriously doubt it will go away on its own.  

  Here are some  snippits  from my own journey out of shyness in random order:

 #1 I made a decision-  I was going to rid myself of shyness,- one way or the other. 

#2- I asked for help.  I remember asking two of my  cousins to line me up with some of their friends while I was still in the dating game.  Those first dates helped crack the shell of my shyness

#3  My growth was gradual but real.  To use a word picture- looking back it feels  like I spiraled my way out shyness: 

#4  Side note-  I am thankful for my years of shyness now- Why? 

     Two reasons- It gave me a sensitivity for people who struggle.  Secondly,  I would rather start out shy and learn how to be more confident than start out haughty and turn people off by my arrogance.

#5  I took  a class in conversational skills.    I attended a weekend workshop where we roll played things  like how to have a conversation with a stranger @ a party.  It was fun  !    Being a good conversationalist is a learned skill- what are you waiting for?

#6  I see my inner life as an ongoing personal improvement project.   I read and applied books like    “How to Win Friends and Influence People” by Dale Carnegie.   It should be mandatory reading in school.

#7  Cultivate the spiritual..   Spiritual vitality and inner confidence are  related.

#8   The battle is  won or lost in my  mind-  It had nothing to do with the size of my ears, or my name (both of which I  now appreciate)

     I’ll never be the center of attention at a party or a dance.  I don’t want to be.    That was never my desire. 

To use a word picture, life as a shy person was like listening to music on an AM radio station- vs. listening to good music through a  Bose acoustic wave…you don’t realize what you’re missing until  you have a chance to compare the two.

    How about you?  Do you wrestle with shyness?  In your case- what seems to be the reason(s)?   Do you have any tips for someone else?

“All tyranny needs to gain a foothold is for people of good conscience to remain silent.”   Thomas Jefferson

Background-  Tonight as I read the  local newspaper, I was  taken back  by the anger  expressed by  one of the candidates for our city council.    He was let go 2 years ago as the administrator of our area ambulance amidst accusations of stealing.    When you start hearing  his side of the story, suddenly it’s not quite as cut and dried as it first seemed….(hold that thought)….

      My first reaction to his anger was to be turned off- .  As he expressed his anger, he was sarcastic, there was  name calling-  It left me feeling like I had licked an ashtray… to be honest, there’s a part of me that thinks he really never had a chance to clear his name and tell his side of the story- but because there is so much anger  now- even  if he’s right, I don’t think he will persuade the people who are undecided.  His  anger is such a turn off

      Now bring that over to  current events-

 Pick any issue:   The recent stimulus bill, the war in Afghanistan, gay rights and the definition of marriage,  health care, Monsanto tampering with our seed supply,  abortion, the national debt, 2nd Amendment rights, Women’s rights, Social Security, immigration, education- charter/private schools/ Our nations response to terrorism, creationism vs. evolution..pick one-  This is not an exhaustive list

Here’s my question-  Is it possible to feel strongly (angry) about any of these things and at the end of the day, not have it consume you?

(all anger is not wrong by the way- it’s what you do with it- IMHO)

I can just hear somebody say, “Let your anger motive you to do something positive.”  Now that sounds great on paper, but  when people who don’t agree with you start calling you names, spreading lies, doing character assassinations, twisting information, etc.   How do you remain calm and respectful and not respond in kind???

      I know 3 people who have intentionally stopped trying to stay abreast of current events because:

 #1-they end up getting angry

#2 They feel powerless to do anything constructive anyway.

Is there a middle road?  What does it look like?   Is it possible to be a positive, effective agent of change w/o being angry?  Are you able to pull this off?  What’s your secret?

   There was a light drizzle coming down as I stepped out the back door of the  construction lab this morning at the school where I teach.  We were scheduled to pour a 33 ft by 110 ft section of parking lot first thing this morning on the commercial job I’m  also working at, but due to today’s forecast we decided to put the pour off until tomorrow.  

 Are you with me so far ?  

     As I looked down the street to this second job site, I could see two guys unloading a semi trailer full of steel. 

   “I should be down there helping out  instead of puttering around not getting paid.” 

     I jumped into my Toyota pick up, turning North onto the wet pavement, the “should a”  thoughts (along with some vague uneasy, gnawing feelings) kept playing through my mind like a 30 second infomercial.   

      Logically, I know we could not pour cement while it’s misting.  Logically, I know we are not going to set steel while it’s misting- so where do these thoughts come from.    And they are not just fleeting thoughts…as I tried to identify  what I was thinking and feeling, they are like a tangled knot. 

Anxiety (low grade financial worries)

Accusatory thoughts at maybe I am too laid back and lazy.

Other thoughts/ emotions?????

I know 95% of this stuff is irrational…I know that 

The bigger issue for me  is  these irrational ”shoulda’s”  robs me of my inner peace and enjoyment of the moment. 

     Another common “Shoulda” that will  try to sneak up and discourage me has to do with how we raised our children.

        On a  logical level, I can look you in the eye , with a clear conscience and tell you, I did the very best I could.  No regrets.

      On an emotional level, I  find myself second guessing myself.

if only I would have been firmer…..

if only

if only…..

         I’m  stubborn enough to think it doesn’t have to be this way.

   I just hate it when one of these little suckers sneaks under the radar and starts to gnaw at my peace of mind.

Talk to me..thoughts/ comments/ suggestions?

One of our free range pigs

 Imagine a pig raised on apples, mulberries, clover, shelled corn and pasture, That would make  for a tasty pig

        Pigs are foragers.  They love to  turn up the soil with their snouts   digging for roots,  and grubs.  It’s called  the ‘free range” method of pork production. 

      Nobody does it for lots of reasons-

     They take forever to get to market weight.

       It takes a lot more space per pig.

      They will tear up a field unless you put rings in their noses, which prevents them from digging, which some have suggested causes them to get depressed (and @ this point I would have to agree)

      Pigs are highly intelligent animals- right up there with chimps, dolphins, and elephants.

       I was working on a hog confinement set up this past June.  The farmer offered to give me  all of his runt pigs  for nothing.   He raises 5000 head of baby pigs  a year.   His buyers aren’t interested in the runts-  they just get destroyed.

         In my mind, a free pig is a free pig, plus we have an acre of pasture behind our barn just sitting there so  I said I would LOVE to take those runts off his hands.

      I sent an e-mail out to several  people asking if they’d be interested in me raising  a free range pig for them.   I told them right up front, they might only get to 120  pounds by the time  we needed to butcher. (once the pasture ran out for the year, that was it.

      I  had 20 people tell me “Yes! Count me in!!!!” 

         It’s four months later and time for an update.    We’re closing in our the time to butcher.    The  local newspaper is putting together  their  annual “pork”  edition and e-mailed me this week to see if I’d sit down with them and talk about  our free range pigs.  I had to laugh because  in my mind the jury is still out on the success of this experiment

         Here’s some of what I learned so far: 

      #1  I would start out with healthy, normal baby  pigs instead of “free” runts.  The runts  do not convert their food to body mass as quickly and you end up dumping more feed in them as a result.

      #2  I would give them more supplemental  feed each week.    I was trying to do this  without sticking a bunch of $ in them, but in the end, they just weren’t growing so I did start supplementing their  diet with shelled corn .  They have finally started putting on some size.

      #3  I would need to charge a lot more $ to make this financially worth my while. 

      # 4 Instead of trying to raise 7 pigs on an acre of  pasture I would only do 4.  It didn’t take long for these 7  pigs to dig up that  acre of pasture.

      #5  I would ask for more money up front from whomever was interested.  I ended up having to purchase a watering tank ($150)  2 sections of electric woven fence (another $ 200) and  $250 worth of corn. and it’s not over yet.

      If you stumble across this blog post, and you’re seriously interested in  some free range pork in 2010  leave me a comment. We’ll  probably grow  3   for sale.   A  150 pound pig (live weight) will run you about $300- $400 depending on  the cost of feed. 

Footnote- for those of you that are regulars..no I am not planning to eat Winston.

     Three young women call me their dad.  One is  married  and two are living with someone.  Since they’re not married and  only God  knows if they’re the one, I’m writing this letter to the future young men who  are thinking about becoming part of our family.

          My  children are my  greatest treasure- next to my relationship with my wife- and the person they pick as their mate has major, major  implications for  their lives.      

         We have a prayer we call the “wedge prayer” in our home- It works like this-  If one of the kids (or even us as parents) developes a friendship that is  toxic,  consistently bringing them down, we ask God to “drive a wedge” between the two of them, cause them to come to their senses- we don’t nag, we don’t preach, we don’t manipulate.    I’ve seen Him answer this prayer twice.

   I like my coffee black, whiskey straight  and important conversations that don’t beat around the bush, so here we go…..

    At some point in your marriage, you’re going to run into a brick wall- probably several the first 15 to 20 years of your relationship.   So  get used to the idea that a great marriage takes work.  If you’re not  interested in a great marriage, I’m trusting my daughter finds  that out before she walks down the aisle . 

   So let’s talk about what to do when you run into a brick wall. 

Brick wall:  Unresolved problem  and conflict in your home…financial, parenting, sexual, hobbies, work related, depression, grief, addictions, emotional issues- the list is endless

     This is what my daughter saw modeled so she’s probably hoping you man enough to do the same.  If there’s an elephant in the room, pretending it’s not there doesn’t cut it. 

      One of your responsibilities if you’ve decided to be a husband is to be a servant leader- doesn’t mean you steam roll your way over my daughter- marriage is a joint venture-  Look up the word “husband” and see what it means.  So what’s a leader to do when he’s faced with an unresolved problem?- you ask  for help

        If you can’t “fix it” between the two of you, then call in an expert.  There is no shame in saying “I don’t know”-  no body is an expert in every area of life- especially when it comes to the complexities of interpersonal relationship.  When my computer starts giving me fit, after I try all the little tricks I know, I haul it into the shop-  when my hammer drill needs work, I haul it into the  tool repair man.  If the furnace won’t heat, we’re not out of fuel and  the breaker’s not  tripped, I call my  furnace guy…so why do some men refuse to pick up the phone when something in their home isn’t working?

  Two reasons- ignorance- they don’t know who to call

 pride- they’re ashamed they can’t fix it

or both.

My first two daughters

Daughter #3

Stay tuned- there’s more – ..DM

        Kids  running up and down  rows of  Red Delicious, Honeycrisp,  and Ginger Gold’s  playing hide and seek.    Branches laden  with red and yellow fruit.   In the middle of the  orchard  a small wooden stage for musicians, story tellers and who know what…. and  a long table filled with  pies, maidrites,the smell of  black coffee and apple cider in the September air.

      That  is what applejam looked like in my mind even before I drove the first nail , or picked up the phone in 2002  to find some musicians -Flash forward to September 12th 2009.  We just wrapped up our 11th Applejam.

     The Bible talks about us making plans but then the Lord directing our steps.  That is a great word picture for what has happened with Applejam.  If you’re reading this and don’t believe, I understand,  I really do.  I spent the first twentysome years of my life thinking the same thing.  But when God decides to reel you in, you’ll know it. 

       After each Applejam my wife and I would critique everything- what worked, what didn’t, what would make things run more smoothly?   In 2003 it rained, we still had 40 people show up, so on a lark we moved everything into the basement of our 100 yr old red barn- no lights, no electricity, listening to a 3 piece Mennonite group while it drizzled outside.  (We still had fun)    After that, we decided to set up in the barn….just in case.   I  wired the barn with enough circuits to support a 5 piece band.   (Remember U2 is my favorite band…you just never know)

      As a result of Applejam we’ve hosted musicians from literally all over the world.  We  have a small bed and breakfast that we  see as a watering hole for traveling musicians.  We’ve even been known to barter on occassion- talk to me about  singing  for your meal and a place to lay your head.  Did you know  there is a subculture of  musicians traveling the country?

     Here is a pictorial highlight of Applejam 2009:

Jesse resident artist

   Tom and  Pam.  Tom played a Neil Young cover that sounded just like the original.  Someone told me this was the first time Tom had performed in public for at least 10 years…what a treat.

Some of the crowd

Kathy, Beka and Angie surprising their Papa

Addy and friend dancing to Fran Snyder

Sam, Kailee ,and Patrick-  on short notice (30 minutes)  they put something together-  all I can say is Wow

Fran (on the right) drove over an hour by herself and her two little ones to perform- sang some original songs.  I asked her if she would come back and play at another one of our events- she was delightful.

This young couple (and their son)   worked tirelessly behind the scene- They spent an extended weekend with us.  I think we all made lots of memories

Here is “Lena” my dad’s first cousin doing a comedy routine

Fran Snyder- He  was our headliner this year, came all the way from Kansas.  Great sound and a lot of fun.

View of the barn after dark…with  music  and light flowing through  the cracks.

     “The hands of a brick layer, the heart of a poet.”  

                           Saumel J Kirkwood/ Former Governor of Iowa

     I’m probably going to step on a few toes with this one, but you know what,  I’m not going to lose any sleep over it

     I’ve been given the  privilege this Fall of teaching  8 young men in a construction program.   I am 30 plus years removed from my High school days- a season in my life I would not want to repeat. 

    Since completing High School,  I’ve spent   30 years together with the same woman- (and we still like each other), We’ve raised 4 children now in their early to late 20’s- ( and  have  a healthy  relationship with each of them).     

       In addition to  teaching , I’m a general contractor.

       I am a people person, and have known and worked alongside literally dozens of men (and women) in the construction industry with every personality type you could imagine.- I n all these years, there is only 1 man who  hated my guts-  a  former bible college graduate twerp with a mouth.

       I love pouring cement, stick framing a roof, riding motorcycles, writing poetry, baking my grandma’s rye bread from scratch, shooting  a  semi automatic rifle,  working in our  apple orchard, stacking bales in the haymow, butchering chickens,  bringing my wife and I coffee in bed

     What am I trying to say? My feet are firmly planted in real life.

      When I was a young man ( like the guys in my class)- there were very few healthy role models- at least role models of what I would consider a masculine male-             Most of the “masculine” males  were either stoic males without emotion, or jocks whose sole purpose in life was to “get some”…great qualities to have in a future husband don’t you think?

      I  am here to tell you, a real man can be tough and know how to stand his ground, but he can also be tender, and know how to admit when he’s wrong.         Real men  are in touch with their feelings- regardless of what anybody else may be telling you. 

    One of my best friends  from New Jersey  would probably be  thought of as stoic by   the rest of the people in his life….and yet, I’ve gotten to know the man behind the mask- I know things about him his wife probably  doesn’t know-  he can be  funny and  fun loving as anyone , he cares, hurts, worries,  just like you and I- but I’m guessing you (and his wife ) will  never see this side of him  unless you established a level of trust with him.

     I love working with the biker/just got out of jail types.  I love to look them in the eye and mess with their minds.  Three years ago,I spent the day with Johnny- he was helping out a friend of mine remodel a building.  Johnny was on work release- muscular, in his mid 30’s- I came with my sawzall, and  chop saw with a diamond blade.  My job was to cut a hole through the side of the masonry building 2 stories in the air.  I  looked Johnny in the eye and said,   ‘”I’m afraid of heights”  (because I am)  

     He looked @ me and said with a little sarcasm, “Man, what kind of carpenter are you,  afraid of height?”

     About 1/3 of the way into the process, there was an accident- Johnny, accidently stabbed me with my sawzall- new blade, with pigeon dung on it- slid right into my forearm like a steak knife-  we made a trip to the emergency room..2 hours later, we were back- my arm all stitched and wrapped up.  I couldn’t leave because we had to finish the project- I had the tools and know how…I watched Johnny as he struggled with the chop saw- it was driving me nuts..finally, I said, “Let me have it”-  I grabbed the saw with both hands and went back to work- two hours later, we were done-  Johnny, looked @ me when I finished with the saw  and said, “Man, you are one bad @#s .”

     Music to my ears. 

     Thoughts, comments, questions?

    “The air was dank, tainted with the odors of steam, sweat and skin.  Years of rust and sediment from the dripping shower heads and armies of bare, wet feet had marbled the floor with streaks and patches of reddish brown.

     The authorities, clad in uniforms and carrying clipboards and whistles, marched the boys in, at least forty of them, all roughly the same age but many different sizes, strengths, and levels of maturity.  The dates of their births, the locations of their homes, and the simple luck of the draw had brought them here, and much like cattle earmarked for shipment, they had no voice in the matter.  The paperwork was in.  This room would be a part of their lives for the next four years.

     He had never been in this place, or anywhere like this place before.  He had never imagined such a place could even exist.  In here, kindness meant weakness, human warmth was a complication, and encouragement was unmanly.  In here, harshness was the guiding virtue- harshness, cruelty, and the blunt, relentless confirmation of every doubt he’d ever carried about himself.

      Mr M. a fearsome authority figure with a permanent scowl and a voice that yelled- only yelled- ordered them to strip down.  His assistants, clones of his cruelty, repeated the order, striding up and down the narrow aisles between the lockers.

     The boy hesitated, looking furtively about.  HE’d never been naked in front of strangers before, but even worse, he’d never been naked in front of enemies.  It had taken only one hour in gym class for the others to select him, to label him, and to put him in his place.  He was now officially the smallest one, the scared one, the weakling, the one without friends.  That made him fair game when it came time for showers.

      He he would be naked in front of them.  Naked.  His stomach wrung; his hands trembled.  Please God, get me out of here.  Please don’t let them do this to me.

     But every authority figure in his life had said he had to be here.  He had to go to school, do his chores, finish his homework, keep his shoes tied, go to bed and get up at certain hours, eat his vegetables, and be here.  End of discussion.

    He removed his clothes.

    Mr M continued his yelling.  “Come on, move it, move it, move it!”

     The herd- pink, black, brown, and bronze- moved in one direction and all he could do was move with it- a frail, naked body among the forty, longing for a towel, anything to cover himself.  Every other body was bigger, and stronger, and every other body had hair where the boy had none.  He knew they would notice.

     The showers were a long, high-ceiling echo chamber, murky with steam, rattling with lewd, raucous joking and laughter.  He didn’t want to hear it.

      After a big kid finished his shower, the boy carefully took his place under the showerhead, afraid  of slipping and even more afraid of grazing against anyone.  He let the water spray over him.  He hurriedly lathered his body with some soap.

     To his left, the talk started about him.  Then some laughing.  The talk spread, the call went out, “Hey, get a load of this!”  And audience gathered, a semicircle of naked dripping bodies.  The talk about him shifted to jeering at him.  He tried to act as if he didn’t hear them, but he could feel his face flushing.  Get through, get through, get out of here!

     He rinsed as well as he could , never turning away from the wall, then headed for the towel-off area, not meeting their eyes, trying to ignore their comments about his face, his body, his groin.  But the arrows were landing with painful accuracy: “Ugly”  “Wimp” “Gross” “Little girl.”

     He grabbed a towel off the cart and draped it around himself before he even started drying with it.  Even that action brought lewd comments and another lesson:  Once it begins, no action, no words, no change in behavior will turn it back.  Once you’re the target, anything you do will bring another arrow….. ” to be continued 

______________________________________________

    This is an excerpt from Frank Peretti’s book No More Victims    His words felt hauntingly familiar to me  (DM).   How about you?   Were you the brunt of any teasing growing up?  What did it feel like?   Has it left any scars?  Before someone is tempted to put a positive spin on this one, let’s take a  little time to tell our stories.

       I know, when life gives us lemons we’re supposed to make lemonade and all that other good stuff..but I’ve also watched   some  of my kids  experience   hellacious harassment in school- and  I suspect  they may still carrying the wounds today.

     Thoughts, questions, comments?

    If a picture’s worth a thousand words, then this post will give me a chance to catch up with some of you    The past 3 months have been some of the busiest  in years. 

      I know how to build “margin” in my life, and it’s slim….Ready?  Here goes…

We played host to a family reunion in July.  Wife’s siblings (she’s one of 7) were all back in town to connect.  I love my wife’s family.   They’re not perfect but they really work at staying involved in each others lives. They are scattered all over the United States.  I took one of my nephews to work one day:

Nephew bonding with Uncle Doug, pouring cement

Late July we hosted concert # 3  in the 2009 Bear River Concert series.  Here’s a picture of  Jesse Martin, Gayla Drake Paul and myself after the show

In 1999 I stayed several days with a family in California while attending a conference.  We’ve kept in touch ever since.  Catherine and her son Jonathan came for a visit. She was originally from the Midwest, came back for a school reunion, wanted Jonathan to connect with some of his roots.  This is a picture of all of us one Sunday morning

Here’s Jonathan seeing what potatoes look like fresh from the garden

Here’s Jonathan petting one of the hens.  I think it’s Joy

In early August, I got a call from someone saying “Let’s do it”  We’d been talking about building him a new 26,000 sq ft warehouse.  Here’s a picture of the first day digging footings.  Once we broke ground, this project  has been a priority .

We had 11 inches of rain the first 2 weeks of this job, our ditches had to be repeatedly pumped out in order to pour the wall and footings.  Here’s one area with 5 feet of water in mud.  Made for some long days

Dad always said, never ask someone to do something you won’t do yourself (I think many of our government leaders missed that lecture)  Here’s a picture of nephew, son and myself  bucketing mud off the footings.  The mud was too thick for the sump pump so we did it old school.

Speaking of school, I started teaching part time in a new community college building.  This is a picture of me in the shop. I teach 2 construction related classes from 12:30 till 2 Monday through Friday.   I love the class, have a great bunch of guys, but it has been brutal in terms of  my schedule.  I go to my first job (building new warehouse) from 7:30 till 11:15 , run home, clean up, head to the school, teach, then go back to the construction site.  In the evenings, most nights I have to work on the lesson plan for the next day.  It has really cut into the time I typically blog.

    In late August, we hosted concert # 4 with GDP 3.  Here’s a view through my video camera. 

Here’s a picture of the cement pump starting to pour the floor in the warehouse.

Forgot to mention, we have a bumper crop in the orchard this year, so we’ve started picking apples.  Here’s two little cousins picking apples

Here’s a picture of my son with some of the cortlands

   Last week friend and fellow blogger Kristina and family came for a visit.  I think we all made lots of memories.  Here’s a picture of us after we got off the river kayaking. 

Here’s a picture of Kristina in the kitchen cooking w/o meat.  She really is a great cook.   I could get used to having a full time maid

 Applejam (Concert #5) took place over the weekend that Kristina and family was here. They were a great help.  I’m guessing there were at least 120 people here for that.  Here’s a picture of a brother sister duo who were awesome.  He sang a Neil Young song that sounded as good as the original.

Young lady on the right  just finished singing @ Applejam.

     I did get on stage and sing an Alison Kraus song with Kathy, DJ and Lori during Applejam.

I’m going to have to stop there.      Wanted to stay in touch w/ those of you that are regular readers.- later- DM

      Standing in front of the class today I began to diagram how to frame  the rough opening of a house window.  I looked at the marker in my hand and gasped- it said “permanent marker“

       I grabbed the eraser, took a swipe at the black  line- nothing happened , so I grabbed the spray bottle full of cleaner,  saturating the board, the black line began to bleed.  The students loved it.   ;-)

     This is my second week of teaching part time in a local community college.   I’m teaching  a series of  construction related  classes.  One of the things you want to keep in mind as a teacher is to start each session  with an attention grabber -this certainly was.

   As I set up the syllabus (class outline)  for the class,  I decided to grade the students in  3 areas- information,  their notebooks, and attitude.(also called “professionalism”) 

     Information changes.   In my mind, what’s the point of memorizing tons of random bits of construction trivia  if 10 years from now it’s obsolete.    Only 50% of their grade will be tied to knowing facts.

     In the work world I inhabit,  a person’s ability to get along with their peers (and customers) casts a much larger shadow than most people realize.  This sort of stuff was never mentioned in high school  when I was growing up.  You either pick it up later   (or not) after  you graduate.     

        In my class, it counts for 30% of your grade.  What I’d really like to do is make it count for 70%  …. maybe next year. 

     Finally, I”m asking all of the students to keep a 3 ring binder for the class handouts.  In it there is a section for a glossary, class notes, field trips,  review sheets, the course syllabus, etc.

     This also ties into what I”ve discovered as a businessman- it’s called keeping a “paper trail“-noting important conversations.  Who I talked to, when I talked to them, what we discussed.  It’s making copies of anything  I send in to the insurance company, Big Brother, I mean the IRS.

      Document, document, document.

     In my mind, if I have one year to shape young minds, I’m going to   impart some things they can take with them, no matter what career path they choose.

     Last Friday, it was time  to do some review, so we played a combination Jeopardy/ Wheel of Fortune.  I needed Vanna White, so I e-mailed our school administrator who is a great sport..  She agreed to be Vanna,  she came in for  30 minutes while we  reviewed Safety, Loads, Footings, plans and specs, Concrete, etc.

      Here’s what you would have heard….

      Concrete for 10 ….
“Your friend built a new home just two years ago.  He calls you up to tell you the driveway in front of his garage door has developed a large crack.  What do you suspect is the reason?”

Safety for 50

      “What do the initials PPE stand for?”

      And finally, here photo from my other job illustrating something my dad taught me several years ago….

“Never ask someone to do something you wouldn’t do yourself.”

Here’s  of 3 of us cleaning the mud off of our footings after pumping 5 feet of water out of the hole…here’s what it looked like before we got the water out:

I love my job(s)  :-)  Thanks for reading along! DM