My Secret Corner Sidewalk

Some people have secret gardens.  Secret Recipes.

I have written before about my secret sidewalk corner.  We put furniture out there that we no longer want and

>POOF<

It disappears!

It's hard to see through the branches of the redbud tree, but that's the big black vinyl couch that was in our front living room out there last July.  Hottest day of the summer and it only lasted two hours.

We've dispensed with four or five different sets of shelves and dressers, a dehumidifier, a (non-working!) treadmill, chairs, couches, loveseats.

When Mrs. Landbeck says, "Time for it to go," we do not hesitate.

Last Monday was a corner day.  This photo is of some stuff I set out Saturday morning.  A bunkbed frame (with no mattresses or mattress-supports).  In the ten minutes it took Stewart and I to drive to my Dad's house and back, the bikes were gone.  Ten minutes later, a pickup pulled along our driveway to thank me for the bunkbed frame.

I put more things out Monday, the row of furniture stretching halfway down the front of our house.  Well, not really half-way, but you know, it was like thirty feet.  It started to disappear before I could get out there to take a picture!

I was dumb-founded at the things people took.  And old chair with some of the side cushioning eaten/taken away by critters (probably for a nest somewhere).  Four chairs missing their seats and backs, in partial states of re-finishing.

It was good to divest, and good to pay forward to someone else.

Don't Anthropomorphize Things ...

 ... they hate that.

This is an important commercial.  Not just because it's funny, but watch it now, then read the rest of this blog.







I'm sort of responding to my own blog post from a few weeks back; I admit and fully recognize that my reactions to an unmatched sock is, as the Ikea spokesman so succinctly puts it, because I am, "Cray-see. It *haz* no feelings!"

A running joke in our marriage has been the issue of what I call orphan furniture. When Jennilyn finds a piece of furniture (or even pieces of a piece) that's been set out on the curb, she often recognizes that it still has great value and use; and she feels a pang of sorrow for it!

This value might be in structure (it still works!) or aesthetic (it's a beautiful color!) or even as a raw material (what can we make out of it?).  I will occasionally (and I hope with great humor) point out that technically, it is garbage.  That's why it got thrown out.  But I'm happily married, so I often fetch the van and retrieve the thing.

It is tempting to view instilling moral or emotional value in "stuff" as sentimentality, or worse, as hoarding.  Often, that's all it is, and it can be a serious problem.  Jennilyn has a great response to circumstances were an item holds no value other than sentimentality; take a picture of it, write the sentimental caption, and throw it out!  She is actually a great advocate for just wearing two socks that *almost* match.

Where is the boundary between thrift and hoarding?  Between seeing the infinite value still residing in an old violin (a la "A Touch of the Master's Hand") and just hanging onto junk?

I have a garage that I gleefully fill up with art material for Jennilyn.  I have my favorite front corner sidewalk where I put furniture out for other people to take.  I don't know the formula for perfectly balancing these two important principles.

But I giggle whenever I hear the Ikea dude's accent at the end of that commercial.

Sock Party!

This post will make all of my children have nightmares.
The dreaded call for the worst chore I could POSSIBLY inflict!

Matching the orphan socks in the yellow laundry basket of infinite depth

It's been a few years since I threw any away. And believe me, it's not like I am keeping the ooky socks, either; if a solo sock comes through that's holed, or threadbare, I chuck it. Now, maybe that's the root of some of this chaos. If I throw away *one* sock, that means there's an umatched sock left, right? But come on, how is it possible we have THIS MANY ORPHAN SOCKS!

This is just the white ones that have something *not* white on them (red stripes, words, gray toes/heels)

 

Here is the complete collection of socks. 

 

I asked the kids to come up and look over the sadness. I call it ... The Apoca-sock-alypse. 

And right away Suzu reaches out and snatches three or four socks off of the table. 

"I have the matches for these. I was waiting for them!" So, three down, eighty-seven to go! Then Roxie Jane very slowly, quietly reaches out and picks up another.  

"I'm wearing the other one of these right now."

I look and down and point at her feet.  She has two socks on.  She grins sheepishly, "They don't match exactly."

AUGH!

Does anyone with whom we might have stayed in the last several years (or who, in turn, might have stayed with us) recognize any socks as matching a straggler you have in your own orphan sock collection?

I can provide close-up photos, if that would help. Here's a close shot of the blue ankle sock.

It was funny to me that everyone, all of the kids, even Jenni, rolled their eyes at my fervor.  Why not wear socks that *almost* match?

Well, I understand.  I've certainly done that in the past, especially if I'm low on socks (or if Jennilyn is taking a nap, and all my matched pairs are in our room).  I don't know why it matters so much to me.  I suspect part of it is a control thing; there are so many issues in my life where I have *NO* control at all, it is nice to have absolute perfect control of something.

But it comforts me to have socks that *really* match.  They were acquired as a pair, they belong together.

So I'm tossing out the unmatched solos.  So long, orphans!

Well, I am *going* to, anyway.  In a couple of weeks, after all the other lonely stragglers have a chance to cycle through the laundry...so, really soon.

Lord of the Rings Online goes to Free to Play

Given that my oldest son was Legolas in a family Lord of the Rings parade of characters (I hope that pictures are coming soon to a blog near me), this is as good a time as any to again recommend my game of choice, Lord of the Rings Online.


The "Free to Play" paradigm is an interesting one if you follow the gaming industry. It presumes that players will try almost anything if it is free, and then boldly assumes the game will be interesting enough for players to invest money into it so that they can continue to play.

So anyone who wants to try, come and see. You can at least come bob for apples and learn a dance by Bilbo's home in Hobbiton...

Sometimes It's Boring to Parent

Gotta teach kids all the work-a-day stuff they need to know in order to function in the world. How to write a check. How to handle 4-way Stop Signs. What to keep for taxes.

How to shop.

A few weeks ago, one of the cereals we consume provided a golden opportunity to teach how to be a savvy shopper. What differences to you see in the two cereal boxes?
Same cereal. Same contents, same nutrition information. The boxes are the same physical size.

But if you look close, their contents are NOT the same size any more.


*sigh*

I remember when ice cream was sold in half gallon containers. When Dove bars were 4 to a box, and not 3. I've lived through the gradual shrinking of Wendy's 99¢ bacon cheeseburger, until Dave finally quit trying to make it less than a dollar.

Keep your eyes open kids. Don't be fooled into thinking a new shiny package is a good deal, when it's not!

Depth of Inventory

One of the roles I've sort of slipped into is the inventory manager of our home. I usually stop and shop while Max is at Boychoir, so I am usually the one who knows how much food we have on hand. What meat is in the freezer. Where the eggs are that we bought 2 months ago so we can boil them (because old eggs, when boiled, peel like a frozen Hershey's Kiss).

I note how certain types of cereal move in and out of popularity. There was a run on the Honeynut Cheerios for a few weeks, but now no one is eating them. Was a time that our youngest went through a box of cinnamon toasty squares every few days, but now she just makes regular out-of-bread toast.

I've realized I keep inventory of more than just food. A few weeks ago, our microwave stopped working abruptly. Have you ever looked at having your microwave fixed? Ludicrous! But luckily, I had a spare in the garage. I actually have two spares in the garage. One is our nice microwave that we brought here when we moved, but one of the kids broke the glass turntable. We've been making do with the built-in the last two years. Until the aforementioned abruptness. So I've been watching freecycle, jumping on every old microwave, hoping to find a matching piece of glass. No luck so far, but did luck into the second spare.

We have a spare washing machine. It's older than the one we use. We had a second spare washing machine, but some friends had their's break, so Jenni gave it away. We were glad to share our bounty of spares.

Spare TV (now; when our TV broke at Christmas, we got two replacements).

We used to have two or three spare beds, but we've been slowly giving those away. Now, we have half a dozen extra headboards, but those are an art project, so we just find a space to store them.

Where does inventory, storage, spares stop, and junk start? Where does it become clutter?

Surely if it gets in the way, that's one indicator of clutter.

If the cost (in terms of labor, space, effort, especially time) of keeping it is greater than the cost of replacing it, that's a big clue. It took me exactly one week to replace our TV. So that makes me think it's dumb to keep another one around as a spare.

The washing machine, though, that took two months to find. And if ours dies, we would be at a crisis situation (have you ever run completely out of underpants? That's a crisis, I don't care how old you are!) in less than seven days.

I have things I have never used. A working dehumidifier, unused in 8 years. A power washer, given to me by my Dad the last time he got a new one. I've had it so long, his new one is now getting thrown away, and he may take back his/my old one. Never used.

Old lumber. I tell myself I'm saving it for the backyard campfire pit. We have two, maybe three fires a year. I think I have enough wood right now for at least 7 fires. Yeah, some of it needs to go.

I finally got rid of part of my collection of old computer monitors. It's a pain to have a monitor go bad, but I realized the inventory was too deep when I had enough to replace every unit in the house. Twice. The last time I had a monitor go bad was 9 years ago. I think I could get rid of all but one and be safe.

Stuff is comforting when you need it. But stressful when it's in your way. Doubly stressful when it is in the way of other people. How awful is it to go and look for something you stored, but someone else moved it? Used it? Threw it out years ago, why on earth did you think it was still in the house?

Today, I think I'm going to get rid of that extra TV. Some of that wood. One or two more of those old monitors. Take the power washer over to Dad's.

A Day in the Life of a Single, Unemployed Dad

Not "single" as in unmarried, but singular, solo. Mrs. L has gone TDY to do some painting for her family, so I'm here, coping.

That is not a plea for sympathy. Our house runs very smoothly, we've put two decades into teaching the kids how to participate in the operation, and they are fun to take care of because they really do help a lot. But it is worth noting here a scriptural fact I have mentioned often. In the story of the creation, God creates everything, names everything, and at the end of each period of creation, reviews and comments. Everything is good. Until he makes Adam. The first aspect of creation to receive a negative response, "It is not good for Man to be alone"

So we are good, but it's busy. My Dad teased me a little the week after I lost my job, suggesting that I was now, "A man of leisure." I frowned at him, telling him I wasn't sure if I was ready to joke about it yet.

But I suppose I needed the light-heartedness. It's critical to not get bogged down.

I look for work everyday. I used to do it while Jenni taught seminary, but while she's away, I'm her substitute. It takes time, at least a couple of hours, to look over all the web-sites, and then to fill out the online applications. I learned to keep a plain text, suitable for cutting-and-pasting, resume and job history open in a word processor. It gets to be a drag to have to re-type your job history a dozen times a week.

The most productive (productive-feeling; nothing I have done has produces any actual results yet...) thing I feel like I do is networking. Calling associates I knew at work, asking if they know of any openings. I've found dozens of jobs that way. But I've found several prospects via Monster and Hot Jobs, too.

Teaching seminary is exhausting and rewarding. The kids tend to be pretty subdued so early in the morning, but most of them are attentive, eager, thoughtful. They are wonderful, and I love the lightness they bring into our home.

Jennilyn has been inspirational, helping me to avoid devolving into navel-gazing mopery. When the year began, and I thought my employment was secure, we joined a health club with a year-long membership. We have been taking full advantage of that, going 4 or 5 times a week, trying to wring as much value out of the already-paid expense before it expires. I am trying out the "couch to 5K" program of running. My kids chuckle at my sore legs.

We have no TV, no netflix subscription. You would think without work taking up 10-12 hours a day, I would have a lot of free time.

But I have inserted myself into most of the home-business of getting kids to school, making dinner, cleaning. Friends and neighbors have been mindful of us, offering small one-off jobs to me, babysitting to Jennilyn. Our families have pitched in as well, hiring us to do their Fall yard work, or painting their house.

I've loved the chance to be around the kids more. Last year, I only ever got to go to one of Stewart's wrestling matches. This year, I've already tied that; he got the fastest pin at their first meet Tuesday night, an exhibition against Elkton. 59 seconds, whoo! I think the fastest over the course of the entire year last season was 20 seconds, so I am sure that record won't last. But exciting to be there and witness it.

There is more time for church work. Jenni gently reminds me that she wishes I would spend more time writing. Which I am trying to do via blogger also, another facet of our life where she is a good example, a great inspiration.

There are house projects to keep me busy (Hey Mrs L, I fixed your slow-draining sink!), but I try to limit myself to one or two a day. It is overwhelming to think of how much needs to be done, and I can't get overwhelmed. I need to stay positive and optimistic, I need to find a job. If I go from room to room, despairing at how much I don't have to spend on projects, I become tempted to just sink into a funk of denial.

There is not much I really miss about work. Certainly the sense of accomplishment in earning a living, the security of it. I miss some of my fellow employees, their light hearts and cheerful demeanors. I miss taking the train, and watching the turtles in the creek while I crossed the pedestrian bridge. I have been deliberately looking at jobs I could commute to on the train.

Even with no TV, Jennilyn and I watch a few TV shows together, but not many, really. Having been without a cable or satellite subscription for over a year and a half now has made us very choosy, very discerning. If a show is boring, or sleazy, or unentertaining, it's easy to just not watch it (especially since we have to seek shows out online or get them from the library). One strike and you are out.

It's funny how my relationship with food has changed since I lost my job. I no longer pack away single servings in the freezer; I don't take lunch anywhere. Food prep could be a simple place for self-pity, so I really try to not self-indulge. Using the extra time I have to try and eat right makes the day more pleasant.

We have appreciated the prayers and thoughts of our friends. If you have any ideas of where else I could be looking for work, let me know!

Be wise

Be wise. My kids know, I am a never-ending (sometimes that's synonomous with "blathering") font of opinion. I wish I had been writing down all of my advice over the years. Not because it's "good" advice, just so I could remind myself I already said something, and not run the risk of repeating myself and becoming redundant, ignorable...

So here are a few collected bits, in no order, with no narrative.

Fill out the "for" blank on your checks. Write in your customer number, account number, transaction ID, whatever.

Check your bank statements OFTEN. More than monthly. The type of thing discussed in this article has happened twice to us over the years (mysterious charges showing up on our credit card statement). Catch them quick, report them, you'll get the money back and a new card issued.

We spend our days reacting and interacting with our surroundings. Don't always wait for the event, but look for indicators. Watch for brake lights 4 or 5 cars in front of you. Look in mirrors, look at shadows to see what's around the corner, who's coming. Be aware of blind corners, so you don't rush around one and make a pratfall of yourself. Forecast.

Buffet hack number 1; Chocolate Fountains; they're not just for pretzels. Look, if you have a full buffet, don't just go straight to the sweets. Have some roast, have some salmon. If there's cheese, have more of it. But when you do get to the sweet table, remember the chocolate corollary to the first law of culinary excellence; if it goes good with chocolate, it goes better with more chocolate. Those caramel pecan bars? Mmm, chocolate fountain drizzle on it is yummy. Bowl of M&Ms? Put some melted chocolate on it, and eat it with a spoon.

Park cool (front-end of the car facing out). It's safer to back in to a space than it is to back out (statistics, baby). And it's good for the quick getaway.

Synergies are efficient. Find a hobby that produces. A job that gives you food to take home.

Free, or inexpensive /= a good deal. Features you don't need can be a burden. Don't waste your time, money, or storage space on things you don't really want.


Buffet Hack number 2; I love eating at places I've never been before, and trying things that other people tell me are fabulous. I feel like I am living my life more fully, surfing the waves in front of their exeperiences. This is how I came to enjoy a Mango Lassi. My wife's sister recommended it to her, and then Jenni to me. Mmmm. There is an Indian Restaurant in Harford County with a Lunch Buffet. The Lassis are pricey, a few bucks each. But the buffet has a fruit salad which is chopped fruit in. . .mango lassi!. Sometimes, being uncouth is the price you pay for delicious. By carefully spooning out the fruit salad sauce into a bowl, I was able to refill my mango lassi drink.

Teach yourself to nap.

Know when to stop running after something. When I was taking the train, almost every morning, I saw people running to try and catch the train. But once it starts moving, it's too late.

Document everything you can. Take pictures the day you move in. Write in your journal. Scan documents, computer storage is cheap. Take a moment to sort and tag things so you can find them again. You won't regret having something tangible to go with your memories.

There are two kinds of fear, fear of harm, and fear of failing. Fear of harm is prudence. It can be the beginning of faith, the child that grows into wisdom. Fear of failing is pride. It is what makes us hide our talents, refuse to do something because it looks silly. It is the urge to refuse a course because it might be seen as cliche. Know the difference. Never ignore the first. Never heed the second.

Know all of your days that you are loved.

Be kind. I have often regretted being hasty or angry. I have never regretted being gracious.

Friday night was our church's Daddy/Daughter activity. The theme was a Western Hoe-down. My youngest daughter is the only one left at home young enough to go (it was only for girls ages 3 to 11 inclusive). We dressed up in hats and boots, tied our scarfs and headed out.

Games! Toys! Prizes! Food! It was a lot of fun getting there and seeing friends, and playing. She climbed right up on the horse and knew what to do!

But disaster struck! After getting our food (fruit salad, tortilla chips, and chili), we made our way to a table to eat, and oh no! She spilled chili all over her beautiful white shirt. A quick trip to the kitchen and vigorous scrubbing with cold water didn't help much. There was a huge orange stain down her front. It even made her tummy orange underneath! But, I thought to myself, what would my wife do? Look really close at that last picture, where she has her hand on her hip. Click it to zoom in. Then, click one of the other two pictures. Can you see it? Different shirts!

From a previous reconnoitering of the neighborhood with my aforementioned wife, I knew about the Village Economy Store three blocks South of our church. We hoofed it to the car, made it through a green light, quickly scanned the girls sections. We both agreed it should be white like the chilified shirt, and modest. One shirt was rejected because it was too short. We found one that looked good, she changed quickly in the dressing room (I don't know what the reviewer in the above-linked page means about no dressing rooms), agreed it fit, and scooted to the register. She turned around so the cashier could take price and remove the tag. Cool, it was even half off today!




Back to the dance in less than ten minutes. Just in time for cake and dancing!