“… somewhere in the distance, a dog barked …”

Posted on January 30, 2014 by Jerrie Cate

Over the past few days I’ve had all kinds of things fly through my head that seemed like fun things to write about, but when I sit down, it just isn’t there. I’ve tried making notes as these ‘things’ occur, but a different problem manifests when I attempt to expand on the notes – it’s just not spontaneous, you know? I enjoy writing because I never know what’s going to come out. For that reason, I’ll never be an author. I’ll just be known as “that guy who writes funny stuff, sometimes.”

That’s OK. Diane would like it if I could actually convert some of these words into an income based on royalties, but she’s not stressing over it. I have to admit, that would be nice. But, I’m not disciplined enough to develop stories based on a plan, or an outline. That’s like work.

I gathered that bit of information from a book Diane gave me, “How I Write – Secrets of a Bestselling Author” by Janet Evanovich with Ina Yalof. Though it’s not numbered, page XI revealed to me that I’m just not going to make the grade as an author because one of her bullet points is “Make writing a responsibility. Think of it like a job and show up on time.”

Since I’ve already retired, twice, I don’t need another job, so I write just for the fun of it. If people enjoy reading it, great. If not, that’s OK, too. It doesn’t affect how I will scribble in the future because I write mainly for me, not the reader, which is another one of the bullets on that page – “… Write for the reader.” Another failure on my part, I fear.

Now, to temper that a bit, Janet has an entire cast of characters which I dearly love to read about. The dialogue is fun and her stories are, too. Since I don’t have characters, I guess I’m a narrator, with a more schizophrenic method of sharing data in that one thought leads to another until, viola!, the page is full, it’s 2200, and time for bed.

Then I quit.

Actually it’s 2212 right now so I’m late. Diane has already gone to bed.

I do have some stories, though, with characters who have speaking parts that I may paste on one of these posts one day. Stupid stuff. I’ll do that one day when my mind is blank.

Or, maybe I’ll just make up a fairy tale.

That would be fun.

Cheers.

Happy Thanksgiving

Posted on November 28, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

Once again, it’s time to celebrate, give thanks, and eat more turkey than we should. This year I think I’ll go a little easier on portions. Either that, or I’ll ditch my belt and wear suspenders on a very large pair of pants.

Speaking of pants … a pair of socks, or shoes, I get. But a pair of pants just doesn’t make sense to be even though that’s what I’ve called them my entire life. Well, my entire life after I started speaking.

Jack told me my first words were “shut up” because he and Jim used to babysit me and apparently I heard that more than anything else. I wonder why.

I’m getting off topic, here. Sorry. A little bit of schizophrenia seeped into my brain. This is about giving thanks, so I should be saying things like, “I’m thankful that I have a large pair of pants,” and “I’m thankful to my brothers for teaching me to speak.”

I’m especially thankful for my beautiful bride of 45 years, 7 days, 15 hours, 8 minutes, but who’s counting. Every second is precious. They tick, one to the next, and each is more meaningful than the last.

Our lovely daughter, Jennifer, gave herself a challenge to share reasons she’s thankful each day this month. It caused me reflect on my own reasons to be thankful but I couldn’t match her method. She’s really good at it while my thoughts are typically scattered making it difficult to share a coherent statement that makes sense. Then, too, I tend to ramble a bit and lose track of what I’m talking about. So, my challenge is to do short thankful statements, which I will do now …

I’m thankful for …

my family …
- just because …
my friends …
- because they love me but don’t have to
my senses …
- especially when they work
pets who love me …
- even when I forget to give them treats
each morning I wake up …
- on the green side of the grass

I can’t think of any others worth mentioning because they are just sub-categories of all those. Expanding on them would simply progress into a very detailed list of things like, “I’m thankful for each moment I sit quietly on the couch, holding my bride’s hand, sharing a box of kleenex, as we watch some sappy movie.”

Yea, I’m ‘that guy’.

Yesterday afternoon I decided to do a little Zen Pruning on our fruit trees. That involved getting two long extension cords because I have this handy little electric chain saw on a stick that makes getting high branches easy.

Starting with the oldest plum tree, I began whacking off offending, and broken branches that should have been removed about 15 years ago. I’ve never ever pruned it. As each branch crashed to the ground, I dragged it out of the way so I wouldn’t get my feet tangled up and fall down as I worked my way around. I continued the same process with the other four trees, ending just before it got dark, so I didn’t have a full appreciation of what had transpired until today’s morning light.

Remember all those pretty trees, full of nice green leaves, apples, and plums? Well, here’s how they look now …

Just before I finished Diane yelled down to me, asking if I was sure this was the proper time to be doing all that. I told her that it didn’t matter because I would have done it anyway. I was in the mood.

I must also share that the pruning went nicely until the last tree. It was a vicious attack by a very flexible, whippy branch about 8 feet long that was attached to a much larger branch that I had just cut off. As the big part fell, the whippy branch was temporarily delayed in its descent by another branch that I chose to leave in place. When the branch got past the ‘saved’ branch, I was treated to one of the most painful experiences of my entire life. That branch, with un-erring accuracy, snapped forward, striking me across the face at an angle across my tender lips and right cheek. It was worse than a slap. I have experience so know the difference. There’s a mark, but Diane was unimpressed because it didn’t bleed, so there will be no photo.

Jennifer stopped by on her way home from work so we had a little visit which is always nice. She asked me if I had made her window table. That caught me off guard and I blurted out that I was working on it, spoiling the surprise. When Diane heard that the beans had been spilled, she actually yelled at me for doing that. Maybe all she did was proclaim loudly, but it sure sounded like yelling to me … and all I did was give an honest answer.

Then, Diane went to her Avon Stash and produced a tiny little pair of slippers which she gave to Jennifer to try on. They were, like, 5-6 inches long, and they fit her perfectly, even with her socks on. There was another surprise spoiled, so I guess we were even. Seizing the opportunity, I yelled at Diane for doing that. Jennifer, of course, was delighted because she got to take them home.

So, now I’m not going to make that table for Jennifer. I’m going to make something else so it will be a surprise and I will no longer be in trouble. Maybe a doily.

To end, I must share another ho-hum sunrise coming up behind Mt. Hood …

I hope all of you, wherever you are, stay safe today and always. We all have reasons to be thankful no matter who we are, or where we are in this life. As Jennifer shared her daily Thanks, so should we.

I wish you all peace, every day

401k’s, My Water Pump, and God

Posted on August 15, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

I’ve delayed adding this entry because the number, 401, invokes some really sad memories of my previous employment. You see, the power company I worked for was purchased by ENRON and convinced a large number of employees that their stock was impervious to decline. Indeed, it rose rapidly, and stayed high for a long time. Being one of the gullible group, I cast my fortunes with them right up until they made it impossible to withdraw before the stock dropped to $0. Nice. So, my 401k disappeared, after 15 years of participation, in the virtual blink of an eye.

There’s my sad story for today.

Now on to fun stuff …

I worked on the RV today because last night I discovered the water pump leaked. It leaked a lot. This morning I removed it and ripped it apart to see what makes it tick. It was evident someone before me had a problem with it because, in addition to screws, it was held together with silicon gasket material. It was this that became compromised allowing water to squirt all over under the sink. Sadly, I won’t be able to replace parts in it because they don’t make this kind any more. I’ll have to buy a new one. I may let it dry out and see about making it water tight, once again, but don’t have any high hopes of that happening. It would be far easier to just replace it but, then, it’s been a while since I’ve had my fingers stuck together with silicone sealant. Might be kinda nice, for a change.

There’s good news – the ’79 RV still runs, and the transmission works! I know because I drove it to Warren and parked it at the church as agreed. It drives just great even though it hasn’t been driven for about a year. I start it once in a while, just for fun, so I know the engine is good. Might be a good idea to change the oil, though. You think?

Now it’s time to lounge for the evening. I have nothing significant to say except I’ve been working on my version of religious history. I think I’m on chapter seven. I’m doing it with the firm belief that God has a sense of humor. He must because I have not been hit by lightning, yet. There is, however, always tomorrow. I’m sure I’ll be labeled a blasphemer, at the minimum, and that’s OK because I know it’s not true.

I’m just having fun at God’s expense. Since he knows me so well, I don’t think he minds.