Handy Inspiration

My neighbor and walking friend is a very handy person. So handy in fact that she started a blog about it. She inspired me to fix my house numbers because she did, too. We painted our house six or seven years ago, and the painter broke the numbers, then painted them a color that didn't contrast enough before he put them back up.  She had recently replaced her house numbers, so Saturday morning we took an hour and she helped me do mine...

First I had to pry off the old numbers. They just had tiny nails holding them on, so I found a platic putty knife, inserted it underneath and started to pry. Of course, the plastic wasn't particulary effective, so I had to find an alternative. Being unable to locate the metal putty knives, I did manage to find a chisel and a pliers. Between the two, it seemed to do the trick.

When I laid the numbers out on the ground, it seemed like about 1.5" was the right amount of space between them. They are a bit bigger than the old numbers, so I started them a little higher than where the old ones started. I marked a center spot on the beam at the height where I wanted the first number to go. The new numbers use tiny screws instead of nails. Fortunately the first number is a "1", so the hole in the number for the screw actually falls on the center line of the beam where it was being installed. I held up the number, marked the bottom hole (the one has a screw at the top and the bottom), used a level to make sure that the numbers were even, and drilled pilot holes for both numbers.

Once the pilot holes were drilled, I switched the bit on the drill for a screw bit an screwed on the number "1". I walked back to the street to look at my handywork, and it didn't look straight. Sigh... So lesson learned. Screw in the top screw, then look at positioning before you screw in the second screw. It's definitely a two person job. I'm glad I had my friend to help. So we unscrewed the bottom, repositioned, redrilled a pilot holed, and reattached the screw.

The rest of the numbers were a little more difficult, as the screw holes weren't at the center of the numbers. I'm sure that's so they don't warp over time. But it did make the task of getting it lined up on the center of the beam a bit more difficult. So we measured the distance between the numbers, and marked it on center. Then we held it up and eyeballed it straight to mark the top pilot hole, drilled it and screwed it in, then eyeballed it straight again before putting in the second screw. It took a bit of jiggling back and forth, but the total project ended up taking about an hour.  

So now, thanks to the inspiration and help of Handy Granny, I have new house numbers that can easily be seen from the street. And the goldfinches in the tree next to the front door will know they've found their way home.

Early bird walkin'

Getting well into middle age has has its pleasures and its issues. One of the issues I've been dealing with lately is some pretty severe lower back pain. I've been seeing a chirpractor since early February with mixed results.

We finally decided I should go in for x-rays to see if there was a reason that the results have been so hit and miss. The good news is that there's nothing serious. But as usual, my body is not factory-spec, either. Two things are probably giving me the most issues. First, my lowest vertebrae is mostly fused to my tailbone. And probably the biggest culprit is that the final nerve canal at the base of the vertebrae is significantly smaller than the other ones, and is likely pinching on the nerves that are causing me the most pain.

So what's the cure? There really isn't one, but there are things you can do to relieve pressure. And of course number one on the list is lose weight. Seems the answer to every issue in my life is to lose weight. So on the days that I am in less pain, I have started pulling myself out of bed to walk a couple of miles before the work day starts with my neighbor, Handy Granny. Handy Granny has come up with a great idea on exercise. Instead of hiring repairmen to do the chores around her house, she is doing them herself. She moves more, and gets exercise at the same time. Go Granny!

Some days I'm in better shape than others to walk, but she brings me coffee and we go at my pace. I managed four out of five days this past week. When we're done, I'm up and ready to get going with my day. And like Handy Granny, I'm moving more.

Kitty jealousy

So why do pooches get all the glory? I want a blog, too.
                      -Princess

Twopooches pose

Meredith came home last weekend to take pictures for a project that I am working on, and the pooches decided they wanted to get in on the action. Who am I to stop them? I just want to say that Meredith is one of the best photographers I know for capturing the essence of a person, or in this case pooch. Ginger is definitely inquisitive, and Gizmo is a worrier. Well done, Meredith.

So Meredith and her beau are getting ready to graduate their masters programs at college, and are making plans for the next phase of their lives. While there are no final decisions yet, it looks like it may involve a move that is at least a full-day's drive away. If it should come to pass, this will be the first time she will be so far away. Right now school is a quick one hour drive away from home.

Meredith, God bless her, works everything out by talking. If there's a thought in her head, it comes out of her mouth. Completely lacking in a filtering system. She knows it, too. So when you tune her out for a short period during one of her longer discourses, she's not offended. Thank goodness she has developed some thick skin! When they were over today she and Lorin were discussing the merits of the city they're contemplating during dinner. I was late (running another sibling to an appointment just as dinner started...sigh), and managed to get in, eat my entire dinner, take my dishes to the sink, and exit the kitchen before the two of them came up for air. When I need to, I've learned to hold my own in a conversation at this house. But poor Josh (the beau) is a man of few words. Meredith certainly makes up for it! I guess that helps make it a good match.

So if you need a good photographer, or are just needing someone who can hold up their end of the conversation, I certainly recommend Meredith.

Being a Good Guesser

In an article called 5 Things Every Real Marketer Knows Today on Open Forum, John Jantsch, owner of Duct Tape Marketing says, "Marketing Planning is Guessing." He goes on to say that the primary purporse of creating a marketing plan is that you must go through a process to do it.

Guessing generally has a negative connotation. You guess when you don't know something. I think guessing is about asking questions. People who don't ask questions don't have the curiosity you need to grow your business. But if you do it right, the questions you uncover during your marketing planning should make you do the research. Once you do the research, then you don't have to guess. Need more info on what your market is? Do a market analysis. Who is your best customer? Do a customer analysis. Are you collecting information from your existing customers? Give them a reason to share their info with you. Then your plan should include activities to get to know them better. Where are your best leads coming from? Not sure? Make a plan for tracking them. Better data will allow you to provide outstanding service to your best customers and figure out who else is out there that could benefit.

So marketing planning as guessing? I would rather look at it as finding out what you don't know so you make a plan to know it, then act on it.

Character approved

I love USA Network's Character Approved campaign. It's all about people who aren't afraid to buck the system and follow their dreams. I am happy to say I have an acquaintance that I would be happy to nominate for a Character Approved award.

Steve DiFranco is a guy I met because my boss didn't have enough time to meet with him. He's in sales, so I always look at those initial meetings and conversations with a grain of salt, because I knew he wanted something from me. But he was so genuine and his attitude was so appealing, from that point forward his call is one of the few sales calls that I would take every time.

I got to have lunch Steve last week. And in that hour, I found that the positive, genuine attitude was born out of a terrible, terrible childhood. I'm not sure he would want me to share all the details here, but suffice it to say that he grew up in a place where fear and terror were never far from his mind. He grew up in a place where people lied to him because they could. He grew up believing that he wasn't allowed to go to college because he grew up in the wrong neighborhood. Not just it would be hard. He truly thought he wasn't allowed.  And his memories of it all seem strikingly clear.

The amazing thing is that as he spoke, I could tell that the spark of the spirit of joy, love and wonder at life that I know as Steve seems to have been there through his whole life. He speaks of those times with no bitterness. He seems to genuinely understand that the blessings he has in his life right now, who he is right now, are due at least in some part to being molded by the fires that he came through in his early years. If only I had that strength of character.

Steve told me that people have told him that there is a book in his life story. I hope that should he ever be ready to write it, that he would allow me the honor of putting his story in words.

Coralling Amoeba

The past few days I have felt like I've been chasing the oozing edges of my life. I can't really decide if it's good or bad. I am still really excited about this new direction in my career and in my life. When I think about where I was a week ago, all I can do is smile at the change. So next step is to give some definition to those edges that tend to get away - bring some focus. It's fun to ooze for a while. But I do need some control over where I go.

Trickle, slip and slowly slide
Across the surfaces of today and tomorrow.
Always free yet still contained -
Creating, growing, ever changing.
Defined but free to become.

The Scratchy Mess of Desperation

It is amazing the tales you will tell yourself when you are desperate. Come to think of it, "tale" is maybe too tame of a word. Yesterday, the wool I had pulled over my eyes about my job for the past several months was finally and fully yanked off. True, the moths had been eating away at it and the truth had begun to be evident. But the feeling of being free of the itchy, uncomfortable mess was something akin to walking into an air-conditioned room after taking a long jog in July in the hot, humid south.

The details are not particularly relevant. But the lesson learned is. Be passionate about what you do and it doesn't matter how hard you have to work. Passion carries you through the hard work and even gives your work a life of its own. So I am resolved to move forward in which ever direction I go with my career and do it with passion.

Downshift to idle

It's Friday so it's time to downshift to the idle gear. I'm pooped, fatigued, ragged, frazzled, drained and just plain sucked dry. It's the weekend and I'm ever-so-glad.

One of the characters on the TV show playing in the background just said, "If you always do what you've always done, you'll always get what you've always gotten." I'm sure I should do the reseach so I can attribute it to the wise person who said it, but I'm just out of gas. But it's so relevant to this post that I've been planning in my head all day. In some areas of my life I've known that the fit has not been perfect - the gears have been grinding together. And perhaps it's to the point where there's not enough left on some of the teeth to hold things together. I need a new gear or two in my life. The focus on getting new gears has become more than a priority. Now it's a necessity.

So the old heap is parked in the garage for the weekend, getting some rest. We'll get back on the road soon enough, searching for new gears.

Straight to the pants

The very first thing I do after work is run to my bedroom, strip off my business casual attire, and jump straight into my old sweat pants. To a certain degree I am shedding my day and leaving it in the past. But the best part is that I'm plunging headlong into the known. My old sweat pants never tell me I'm wrong and never judge or criticize. As many times as I'm being lazy when I wear them, I have the paint stains to prove that I accomplish things when I'm in them. I always resent it on the nights when I have plans and can't go straight to sweatpants.

This got me to thinking about familiarity and avoidance. Even though they seem to be very different on the emotional meter, they often go hand-in-hand. We embrace the familiar in order to avoid negatives in our lives. But at some point, when we live too often with the familiar, our image deteriorates, getting old and stained and sweaty. What we originally convinced ourselves was shedding the past may really be fear of the unknown. There is a fulcrom in there somewhere - the balance tips and the recluse in us gains control.

Recluse scares me a little. But I'm not giving up my sweatpants.

Nuclear Waste Management

Cross my heart, I believe that nuclear waste management is an important environmental issue. Those little radioactive isotopes can contribute so much to our lives, it behooves us to figure out a safe way to deal with them once we're done with them. But I must admit to being slightly bewildered when I received the following instructions earlier this week at the doctor's office where I went to have some nuclear imaging studies:

"We're going to start an IV, and inject some isotopes so we can take some pictures. After you receive the injection, we'll need to wait about 30 minutes for it to travel through your body. If you need to use the restroom during that time, please be sure to use the one in our office, as your urine will be radioactive, and we have to follow special protocols to contain it."

Hmm. What can one possibly say to that except to nod with your gaze slightly lowered in a moment of slight embarassment. Having come of age in the era of "China Syndrome," "Silkwood" and Three Mile Island, I understand the negative connotations of radioactive contamination all too well.  I have since found out that the amount of radiation I received is equivalent to an x-ray. Teeny-tiny and reportedly quite safe. But somehow I never imagined that I would be considered a purveyor of nuclear waste, or require special protocols to deal with my pee.

So people's opinions about nuclear technology are generally not ambivalent. Black and white, for or against, yea or nay. But I find myself strangely caught over the divide. I certainly don't want to contribute to the contamination of the planet, but I also want to be able to use the best available technologies to ensure my health. Or to create electricity for my home. Or what ever it is. I have no idea how well nuclear imaging offices are equiped to deal with radioactive body waste. Truly, I hope someone did their homework on that before they started injecting those of us with the pains that can so cause you to take stock of life.... and pee.

A pain-in-the-scapula

On Tuesday I had a pain just under my left scapula. It didn't just poke me and leave. It moved in and stabbed me repeatedly for over an hour before it forced me to pay attention. And for the next 10 hours it was my constant companion. Of course, being the excellent student that I am, pain near the heart gave me much reason to pause and reassess.

In this moment, many people will have the life-flashed-before-my-eyes experience. Personally I was too busy trying not to scream in agony to get that dramatic. But God did get my attention, primarily about the boo-hoo pity me attitude that has been more prevalent in my thoughts in recent days.

I hate resolutions, they always seem to set me up for failure. But we're close enough to the beginning of the new year to say that this event has caused me to resolve to change my way of thinking about my life. Everyone has challenges. Ignoring them doesn't make them go away. If I can't change the situation, I can certainly make the best of it.

Meanwhile, my regular doc seems to think it was muscle-related rather than anything more serious. (Of course he's ordered a bunch of expensive tests to make sure...) So I will pick this old body up and try to stay away from sharp-pointy-painful things.

Channeling Aretha

Today Aretha Franklin is in my head. She even slipped out of my mouth at one point. One of the subjects that Aretha is most famous for is respect. when you mention her name, it's the song most of us think of immediately.

So why am I thinking about respect?  Well, I did capture the picture you're looking at on my new camera. I love my pooches, and Gizmo has more forebearance than is reasonable to expect.

Curfews are a sore subject at our house right now. With an 18-year-old high school senior in the house, any kind of rules tend to chafe. He missed his curfew on New Year's Eve (1 a.m, by the way) by four minutes. According to him, he was "hitting all the red lights."  Plausible, and even likely. However, instead of calling me on the phone we have given him, he just showed up late. And because the number of minutes was so small, he didn't think that it should be counted as being late. At 1:05 a.m. I declined to discuss it further. But today when he asked to have his regular curfew extended, I told him no. Not a popular decision, I have to tell you. And I told him it was because he didn't respect me.

Now he is the baby of the family, and I'm sure that I've treated him as such on more than one occasion. But I hope before he leaves the house in May to make the foray into the college world, he understands that respecting someone means that even in the small things, your actions take the other person into account. Our goal has been to raise our chilren to be self-sufficient, and that they are. But life doesn't happen in isolation, either. At some point they have to learn to put other's needs in the same neighborhood as their own.

And don't worry. Gizmo had to endure the headband only about as long as it took to take the picutre. Thank you, Giz.