A little something to let you know I’m still alive and well. DM

This first clip is just three minutes long.  It will make your day.

This next one is on

the topic of vulnerability.  Let me know what you think. DM

If you were my daughter, if you were my son…

Had a little drama on my other blog last night.

A mother  recently left a comment on a blog post sharing about the heartache she has been going through with an older son….well, Son got onto the computer that was still logged onto my post  her comment  was still visible.

He was not a happy camper.

Having personally experience 18 years of parental hell myself, ( it started when our oldest was about 14..and is only just now tapering off 19 years later as child #4 is finally getting his bearings)  I have some perspectives on parenting I wish I could have tapped into so many moons ago.

So for what it’s worth, if I had the opportunity to sit down and talk with this distraught mother (and her slightly dysfunctional son)  here is what I would tell them…

First to the Young man.

I would sit across the table , look him in the eyes and  say.. ” It’s time you grow up.   You need to move out and get a place of your own.  It’s going to be tough…financially and every which way..but the truth is, you do not appreciate what your parents have been doing for you  and you  need an  attitude adjustment.  I might (might have) considered letting you stay here a little longer if you had been willing to play by the rules of our home..but as it is, the drinking, smok’n and blatant disrespect for your mama is the last straw…. You need to be out by the end of the week.  period.”

“Mom…I know you love your little cub.. you love him dearly..unfortunately, at this point, he doesn’t feel it. and he will continue to disrespect you and break your heart until he comes to his senses.  and that may take getting to the end of himself.    When that finally does happen. he’ll be back and you’ll have a new son.”

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Parents..(especially moms) have a tendency to short circuit the natural consequences of of poor life choices ..the result is, our children continue to flop and flounder and get into all sorts of heartbreaking  situations…heartbreaking.  and we keep bailing them out... you need to stop.  if they get busted, let the natural consequences of their choices  unfold…period.

When I was in the middle of it all, there was a time when I felt like an elephant was stepping on my chest…the stress and pressure was crushing.  I told someone yesterday, I felt like I went through an emotional wood chipper.

I am not the same dad I was going into the parenting gig, 30 plus years ago.

I’ll never forget the time I sat across the table from my 14 yr old daughter who I had just brought home..she’d ran away for 3 days, had no intention of coming home..( I knew where she was, it was just a matter of reeling her in)…

I sat across the table looking @ her …anger, defiance rebellion,contempt written all over her face

She was our strong willed one….that rebelliousness needed to be broken… to break the rebellion but not break the spirit..  you can do it..in fact, if you don’t you will never have real peace…  so I gave her two options…put her in a girls school, or spend a week @ my cousins and his family..(which she really , really did NOT want to do either,for reasons I am not @ liberty to tell you)…. It was a watershed moment in our relationship.  She is still a strong willed young lady.  Yea, we went through a lot more after that, but @ least she knew if push came to shove, I was not going to back down.

I taught a high school shop class for a year…I discovered the same dynamics that made for healthy relationships with my older children also made for healthy relationships in the class room with a group of rowdy young men…

First they needed to know who was in charge…call it what you want, respect/ fear..maybe a little of both…

Secondly…love..they needed to feel that I genuinely liked them… and I did..

Once in a while, they would test me just to see if I was still in charge….

Here’s how it works in Realville :

teacher first- friend second..

Parent first- friend second.

boss first/ friend second.

Feel free to do otherwise   DM

 

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This post is still in a rough draft form, but wanted to post it, so I could get some initial feedback. DM

Johnny

Friend of mine purchased an old  building, asked if I could help  install a patio door 20 feet up, through an  exterior  wall, covered with Stucco.

(stucco = concrete)

I came prepared.  Brought the  cement saw with a diamond blade.

a handful of new sawzall blades. (they look like sharp steak knives…hold on to that detail)

and two quarts of coffee.

Must have coffee.

My friend had a young man in his early 30′s there to help.

His name was Johnny..

He was built  like a tank.  chiseled,  and had  this hard stoic look in his eyes..

He looked like he belonged  in a  gang.

Construction types  remind me of my dad’s roosters….

Sometimes  I pick up an undercurrent of circling  and sizing  each other up…  like roosters getting ready to spar

Johnny  and I were was no exception.

When I looked at the 4 sections of rickety  scaffolding set up for us to work on, it creeped me out..I told Johnny  I was allergic to heights.   (I really do hate heights btw)

“What???” he said with a sneer ,  “I thought you were  the carpenter, and  you’re telling me you are afraid of heights?”

  “Yep” I  said with a smirk.    Now he really didn’t know what to do with me…

I love to banter w/ tough guys   and soften them up…poke holes in their machismo.

It took me less that   30 minutes  working along Johnny to soften him up ..

He  went from questioning my sanity to thinking I was (his words, not mine  a “Master”).

I jumped on the section of scaffolding below Johnny,  asked him to hand me  the  sawzall.  He let it down by the chord, (it wasn’t running, but the 6 inch  blade was sticking down as he swung it to me).

It slid deeply into my wrist .  I took one look at the wound and  said, “Johnny, I need to go  to the hospital” . 

Johnny said, “You’re kidd’n right?”   “No,  I said,  “I just got stabbed, and need to go to the hospital NOW!” 

           He felt terrible.  “It would be one thing, if you were just some “grunt”, but you are like a “Master” ” he moaned.

Hour and 1/2,  $750.00 later I was back on  the job,  (arm wrapped  w/ 5 stitches)

I tried to supervise when we got back, but it was taking forever.

I  grabbed the cement saw and  went back to work.

  “Man, you are one bad #*&, he said.     

If he only knew.

..pardon the sweat… that’s me showing off

it’s a little trick I know….

you  touch your nose with a 10 pound sledge

very carefully

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Footnote. those of you that are long time readers may remember this post..It was buried in the archives.

If you’re feeling trapped

Maybe you are

We just got home  from a  family reunion..

Seeing most of these people only every 2 or 3 years gives me the  a sense I’m watching  time-lapsed photography…

I used to internally  cringe at these get togethers.

I would compare our families life choices with the other young families in the mix.

5 of the cousins are either Dr’s or have married Doctors.  I suspect several of the Aunts and Uncles are millionaires…

And then there was our family

My wife chose to stay at home as  our  kids came along…

which meant shopping @ Goodwill and garage sales for the kid’s clothes

Renting instead of owning

Driving an older car

bread from the day old store….

you get the picture.

There are lots of people in the world who have it a 100 times tougher..that I know..

but still, it’s so easy to fall into the comparison trap.

Now, 30 years later, our kids are grown,

wife and I are still in love

I’m still working at a job that energizes and stimulates me most days.

money is still tight, but for the most part we are out of debt….

And those earlier choices don’t seem so stupid any more…

I came across the following description in a book a few weeks ago, that described our life to a T:

     “My grandparents lived a simple country life.  They were totally self-sufficient, tilling a small piece of land and raising their own food….there was a sense of unhurriedness  and simple pleasures.  All the money in the world couldn’t buy such luxury in today’s world.  It is not for sale.   You have to create it….

It is unlikely you can ever totally escape from this high-stress world.  We are all on the same train….but to preserve your sanity and achieve a healthy life, you have to make some choices and resolve to live a balanced life.  By a “balanced” life, I mean, that like a marathon runner, you must learn how to pace yourself.  You give it all you’ve got going uphill and rest as much as you can going downhill.  You try to balance the drain on your energy so you can “go the distance”

From the book The Anxiety Cure by Archibald Hart

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As I listened to some of the stories this past weekend, I couldn’t help but think about an article I recently read  about rats,   overcrowding and stress.

Because some (not all)  of  my successful relatives are living under a lot of self-imposed stress, .and I thought to myself but are they happy?

They may be making big bucks, but at what cost?

Here’s a link  to that article  if you’d like to read it.      Rat Study

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If you hear a still small voice calling you to get out of the rat race don’t just ignore it.

It may be the voice of God.

And He can make a way.

I know what you’re thinking…

There is nobody in your life who would understand…

But here’s the deal…30 years from now, you will not regret it….

“If you make it to the top of the company ladder, but loose your family in the process, you are a fool.”

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Sorry if this comes across as a little intense.  I don’t mean to be.  DM

The Dance

An old prospector shuffled into town leading an old tired mule.  the old man headed straight for the only saloon to clear his parched throat.  He walked up and tied his old mule to the hitch rail.

As he stood there, brushing some of the dust from his face and clothes, a young gunslinger stepped out of the saloon with a gun in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other.  The young gunslinger looked at the old man and laughed, saying, ” Hey old man, have you ever danced?”]

The old man looked up at the gunslinger and said, “No, I have never did dance…never really wanted to.”

A crowd had gathered as the gunslinger grinned and said, “Well, you old fool, you’re gonna dance now.”and started shooting at the old man’s feet.

The old prospector, not wanting to get a toe blown off, started hopping around like a flea on a hot skillet.  Everybody was laughing, fit to be tied.

When his last bullet had been fired, the young gunslinger, still laughing, holstered his gun and turned around to go back into the saloon.

The old man turned to his pack mule, pulled out a double barreled shotgun, and cocked both hammers.  The loud clicks carried clearly through the desert air.  The crowd stopped laughing immediately.  The young gunslinger heard the sounds too, and he turned around very slowly.  The silence was almost deafening.  The crowd watched as the young gunslinger stared at the old-timer and the large gaping holes of those twin barrels.  The barrels of the shotgun never wavered in the old man’s hands, and he quietly said, “Son, have you ever licked a mule’s @%$?

The gunslinger swallowed hard and said, “No sir, but…..I’ve always wanted to.”

There are a few lessons for us all here…

* Never be arrogant

* Don’t waste ammunition

*Whiskey makes you think you’re smarter than you are

*Always, always make sure you know who has the power

*Don’t mess with old men, they didn’t get old by being stupid.

 

 

I just love a story with a happy ending, don’t you?

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       I (DM) was scrolling through  the archives on  my other blog this morning.  I normally try not to have too much over-lap, but will make an exception once in a while.  I originally got this one from my buddy Jim .

Story reminds me of a movie we watched a year or so ago that definitely had an edge to it.. Grand Torino.  Now before you watch this clip..couple of comments..

#1 It’s got some profanity  in it.

#2 It’s got some racial slurs in it.

I personally try not to use too many dirty words @ this point in my life/ although if you really tick me off, you might hear something. Secondly, when we lived in New Jersey,  I had a  good friend named Everett.  He was a young black man coming off the street of Paterson.  He ended up asking me to be the best man in his wedding.

I hate prejudice.

If you can look past those two issues,  go ahead and check out this clip. It is a snapshot of what it’s like in some corners of the hood.  Always good idea to pay attention to where you’re at and handle yourself accordingly.

Even I get conflicted once in a while ;-)

Conflicted:  Full of conflicting emotions,   A psychic struggle, often unconscious, resulting from the opposition or simultaneous functioning of mutually exclusive impulses, desires, or tendencies.

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“We’ve got a form of brainwashing going on in our country.”  Morrie sighed. “Do you know how they brainwash people?  They repeat something over and over.  And that’s what we do in this country.  Owning things is good.  More money is good.  More property is good.  More commercialism is good.  More is good.  More is good.  We repeat it – and have it repeated to us – over and over until nobody bothers to even think otherwise.  The average person is so fogged up by this, he has no perspective on what’s really important anymore.”

From Tuesday’s With Morrie  page 124

I (DM) have been gnawing on  a related issue for a while now.  The value  placed on physically attractiveness , youth and beauty in our culture.    A part of me rolls my eyes at the shallow sillyness of it all, and yet there is a  small part of me that wishes I had just a little piece of that pie too.

Not the whole cake mind you, just a little slice….like a piece of cheese cake.

This thinking rears its head when I scroll through pictures of my niece on facebook.  She’s in the prime of her youth, attractive, always seeming to be getting lots of attention.  Lots of pictures where she and her friends are striking poses for the camera…you know the pose….

It also rears it’s head  in the blog world.  Young  female writers will regularly get dozens of comments  and I’m lucky if I get one or two   Now don’t take this personal any of you my regular readers…I’m not trying to whine, it’s just that in the back of my mind, I wonder if I were female, and in my 20′s how many more comments might roll in.

So here’s where the conflicted feelings come into play.   I love my privacy and my space.  I have no desire to be the center of attention in a group.  I “know” physical beauty and youthful vigor  do not last.  That stuff is an illusion. and yet in my heart of hearts, I still crave some of it.  If I didn’t this sort of stuff wouldn’t bother me.

Brittany posted  the following video clip  a couple of weeks ago on face book… It bears watching at least once a month:

Contentment is….

A friend of mine from the blogging world asked me this week to write about my thoughts on contentment. And, as with many other topics, I gave the matter much thought.

Defining contentment was not as easy as I thought it would be.

At first, I thought of contentment as a feeling of familiarity, of feeling happy, but not overjoyed. Of having some of what you want and being happy with that without pursuing something deeper or greater. I thought of it as settling for what we have rather than what we may really want.

Then, I thought about it even more deeply today, during one of my deep meditative states in my car (and do you know, a coworker of mine drove past me last week during one of my meditative states, blowing her horn and waving madly, and I never heard or saw her. I didn’t have my radio on, I was just in the zone).
What I decided today was that I had it all wrong in thinking that contentment was some ordinary state that we settle for, when we aren’t willing or able to push ourselves further and deeper.

Contentment to me means:

PEACE: a sense deep within of calm and resolve.
HUMILITY: A deep sense of how mighty this world really is.
GRATITUDE: Deep appreciation for all that we are offered every day.
FULFILLMENT: The dream realized.
TRUST: That we are always being watched out and cared for.

What I realized when I really meditated on this today, is that Contentment is much deeper than just being happy. Contentment means SOUL happiness, a happiness so deep and pure that it doesn’t require fanfare or announcements; it is just felt down to our toes. Contentment is not just the feeling, but the deep UNDERSTANDING that we are here for a mission and purpose, and that we are fulfilling it in all that we do. It is total belief that we are being watched over and that all will be well.

For me,contentment, without realizing it when my friend asked me, is what I am aspiring to. It is the true sense that what I am doing matters, and that I am connected and transparent. It means that my presence here has purpose and meaning and that I am in love with my life and its work.

Contentment is big.

Vanessa

Post script. I (DM)  recently asked some of my friends to think  on the topic of Contentment.  Some of you reading this  were part of that project.  This is the third  of several  essays on contentment.  Let me know if you’d like to contribute. thanks!

The 2011 harvest is upon us

“The most important ingredient in the welfare of an orchard, is the sound of the Orchardist’s footsteps”

Below are some pictorial highlights of what’s been happening around here the past couple of weeks….

Yours truly picking the Ginger Gold’s

I use that little level to double check to make sure the apples are not sticking above the rim of the box.

When I put the crates in the cooler I like to stack them at least 3 crates high.  There are between 40 to 50 pounds of apples in a crate.  A bushel of apples weighs 42 pounds.

Long Island Cheese Heirloom pumpkins that were picked this weekend

Brandy-wine Heirloom Tomatoes. 

I lifted up some vines and discovered about 20 large ready to pick Brandy-wines’ just begging to be picked

2011 Cortland Apple crop (Royal Court strain).  I picked the last three bushel of these this morning.  We’re getting $1.50 a pound for them, but if you buy a whole bushel, I’ll sell them to you for $40.00.  Just 2 of these will be enough to make a pie

2011 plum crop.  I planted the plums just for fun. 

Broom Corn.   The broom corn is also just a novelty crop  I planted.  In the pioneer days, they really did make brooms out of these.

2011 apples in  the walk in cooler

At this point, I would guess we’re about 75% done picking apples.  Now you know why I feel like I live in the Garden of Eden sometimes.

 

10 reasons why you need to plant an apple orchard.

Hanging scale in our sales area

1.  Photo opportunities.   Our apple orchard constantly changes with the seasons.   There is always something catching my eye and bringing me joy.

Royal Court apple tree in bloom this Spring

2.  It provides the perfect blend of solitude and social interaction.  I love my peace and quiet.  There is nothing more nurturing for me than spending a Saturday morning alone, picking apples.  At the same time, I do love meeting and bantering with the public on occassion, and when the mood strikes, I will load up the pick up and head to our local farmers market.

Hawking apples at the farmers market last season

3.  Supplemental income.   Sure there is some work involved in tending an orchard, but not nearly as much as you might suspect.  One Semi dwarf tree  will cost you  $20 to $25.00 and once it’s mature, it can produce between 2 to 4 bushel of apples a year. = 80 to 160 pounds of fruit @ $1.50 a pound that’s $120 to $240 gross, from one tree…per year..not bad for some additional pocket change if you ask me

4.  mental stimulation.    While the basics of tending an apple orchard are pretty easy to grasp, there is always something new to learn.   Did you know there are over 750 different varieties of apples in the United States alone, and over 2000 varieties world wide?

5.  Keeps you physically active. “ Keep those muscles moving”  my grandpa used to say.  Between the pruning in the early spring, to the picking in the fall,  having an orchard provides me with lots of  opportunities  to be physically active outside, all the while,I’m getting paid  and enjoying some fresh air.  As I  get older  I will probably do more of that “you pick” marketing, but for now, I can still climb and honestly, I love picking apples.  Last Saturday, I picked about 1200 pounds of apples in about 6 hours.

6.  Provides me with lots of opportunities to bless others.  I’m not going to brag and tell you how this works itself out except to say, I try to sell mostly our #1 apples, which means, what to do with the seconds?    The opportunities  to give are all around.

7.  Get to enjoy some varieties of fruit that are hard to come by normally – plus if you can find them, you’ll pay through the nose.  Sure we have Honey crisp, was told last year they were charging up to $5.00 a pound for those little rascals.   So far this year, I’ve picked 11 crates of them and probably have at least another 8.  My personal favorite is called the Ginger Gold:

Ginger Gold.

It is every bit as crispy as the Honey crisp and sweet.   Last year we had 32 crates of these little jewels.

8.  Fresh apple cider.    You haven’t lived until you’ve had fresh apple cider pressed from your own apples.   It’s got a texture and taste you’ll never , ever find in a store -ever.  If you come to visit, and the apples are in season, you can help me press out a batch.

9.  You’ll  give the bees something to talk about.  Ever hear of the “waggle dance”?

10. Provides me with lots  of spiritual insight.

Life is full of mystery.    I believe God has hidden the answers to some of our questions about life in the apple orchard.

Pruning and suffering.  I hate it when people try to slap pat answers onto my life when I’m in the middle of something hard.  It makes me angry.  So I will not disrespect you and do that now.  Sometimes it feels like I’m getting “pruned”  and when it does, I barely have enough energy to survive, let alone  do more.

Fruitfulness (ever see an apple tree grunt?    Me neither.

Seasons.   Apple trees don’t produce fruit 12 months out of the year.  In fact, they need large blocks of “down time”  in the winter..to get ready for the next season.  They literally need that time, which is why apple trees don’t do well in warmer climates.

Variety.  Already mentioned this one, but it bears repeating.    Apple trees vary widely and differently in the type of fruit they produce.  I think people are created much more varied than culture tries to tell us.   I found an apple tree on an abandoned farmstead a few years ago like nothing I’d ever seen before.  Some heirloom variety I’m sure.  It looked and tasted just like it was designed to taste.  Definitely not some domesticated boring apple.  So why do you and I sometimes think we have to look like everybody else?   Nothing more beautiful than someone being 100% alive just the way they were designed:

Heirloom variety I found at an abandoned orchard near here

As always, thanks for reading my stuff DM

I am Ostfriesland

I never  thought much about my  Low German roots until a few years ago when a friend of mine (who happens to be from Germany) explained to me the distinction between High  and Low German ( Plattdüütsch)

High German is the language of today, spoken by pretty much anyone who says they are German.    Low German   (depending on who you talk to)  would be considered  slang,  spoken by the  uncultured, back woods poor peasant types).  My Grandpa (Opa) came from Low German stock, where as  Grandma (Oma) came from the city, was  more refined and spoke both.

There should be no shame in having  Low German roots but just between me and you, ever since hearing the distinction, I’ve  felt just a wee bit second rate….until this week.

      I’d  heard growing up  that my ancestors came from the Northern part of Germany called “Ostfriesland” (pronouned  Aush-Freeze-land)   ( or the Freeland).   This week I’ve done some reading…

It seems that way back in the time of the Roman empire,  the people of Northern Germany lived in freedom and did not want to submit themselves to the bully called Rome. The area they lived in was in fact called ”The Free lands”     Rome decided to conquer these farmers,  instead, they (the Romans)  got their butts kicked in the  Battle of the Teutoburg Forest  (A.D.9)   The peasants knew there would be hell to pay  and there was.  It resulted in 7 years of bloody conflict, but in the end, Rome never was able to completely subdue them.

I told my wife this morning, the Ostfrieslanders  were too busy fighting off Roman soldiers to care how many spoons you needed to formally set the table.       And yet, as I’ve read more about my ancestors this week,  I also learned they were not the brute savages you might think.  Taticus (Roman historian) mentions they were fiercely monogamous.

I say all of this to tell you, I embrace  the fact that there is “Freelander” blood coursing through my veins.  It gives me a rich heritage I didn’t realize I had.

If you want to know more…check out this link:

Ancient German people

(I reposted this one by request)  DM