The Real Santa

Christmas can awake many memories. Of wished for toys magically appearing under the tree. Of family dinners and relatives and friends stopping by to wish all a Merry Christmas. Sometimes it was different. Those memories are of Christmas trees thrown through front windows or of waiting on Christmas Eve for the headlights of a father’s car to appear coming down the street. Before six pm and all might be OK. Much later and Christmas was over before it started. There is, however, one particular Christmas, or rather Christmas Eve, that stands out from all the rest. It was when a not so little boy named Jimi learned there truly was a Santa Claus.

So, I need you to play Santa Claus for me on Christmas Eve.

I’d love to, Tom, but I’m working 4 to 12. Otherwise, I would. (fingers crossed).

Oh, come on. I’ve got a really good outfit all ready and besides, you’re the supervisor and you can take off a few minutes to make a lot of kids happy. Really happy.

Why don’t you do it?

I can’t do it. All the kids will recognize me. They won’t recognize you.

Nah, I can’t. It will be busy and we may be short handed. Seriously.

Come on. You know it won’t get busy until late and just think of the kids. Some of them don’t have fathers around and this will really be special.

How many kids? (I could already feel myself caving in to big brother’s logical persuasion)

Only a few. Mostly Nikki’s family. And the girls will be there to help. (Nikki was Tommy’s Ex, but a very compatible Ex and the “girls” were Tommy’s daughters, and I loved them)

OK. But, only for no more than 15 minutes or so.

Yeah, yeah. Great. And, oh, I’m making a list of all the kids and what they did good and bad this past year. You know, Santa’s List. And come down the street carrying the gift sack and ringing a bell.

How many kids are there going to be? What sack and what bell?

Don’t worry, I’ll get you everything.

And so, shortly before 6:00 pm on Christmas Eve I retrieved from my personal car my outfit, a sea-bag sized sack weighing at least 50 pounds and a harness strap with brass bells. And a sheet of paper… with about 30 names on it! Ah, brother Tom. What a conniver! After telling those that needed to know that I’d be on “special assignment” for a short time I drove, fully costumed over my “work clothes”, to my brother’s house. Luckily, it was only 5 minutes away.

Parking around the corner, hefting my sack and ring-jingling the bells for all they were worth, I clomped to my brother’s front door. The door opened and what seemed like an invasion of Lilliputians swarmed Ol’ Santa.

45 minutes later Santa was finished with picture taking, handing out presents, urging the kiddies to be nicer to their siblings the coming year and congratulating them on the little life victories of childhood. Oh, how they were amazed that Santa really knew what was up – no fooling him!

Good bye, children. See you next year! Ho, ho, ho.

Off I went, dragging the now empty sack and giving the bells a few jingles and shouting, ho, ho, ho – just in case. Rounding the corner, there he was. Jimi.

Now, everyone knows, Christmas is the time for giving. And Jimi, true to the spirit, was giving. Or at least trying to. Giving to himself, that is. For, just a few feet in front of Santa, in the warm glow of street lamps, Jimi was busy jamming a metal shim into a car door in an attempt open it… without a key. And that car just happened to be piled high with wrapped presents.

Hey, what are you doing?

Hi, Santa! Merry !%#@&)# Christmas!

Poor Jimi. High and busted.

You’re under arrest.

Whaat? And with that Jimi started his getaway, only to run into another street light.

Fishing through my outfit, I was finally able to retrieve the cuffs and snap them onto Jimi before he could utter another, “What the @&$*”? As a matter of fact, that was all Jimi could manage to say, over and over, as we drove to the station and up the ramp to the sally-port doors.

Joe, the booking officer, opened the doors and gave out a hearty, Hello Santa! What do we have here?

Oh, a very naughty boy, I’m afraid.

Well, come in, Santa. We’ll give him a nice warm bed for the night.

Ho, ho, ho. In you go, lad.

What the @$#&?

Ugh, ugh. No more bad words. It’s Christmas, said, Joe.

A few minutes later, after Jimi was told what he had done wrong, he was told he could make a phone call. He then made his second mistake that night. He called his mother.

Ma, it’s Jimi. I‘m in jail, Ma. Nothing bad, Ma. I just… Ma, I got arrested by @!$%*#@ Santa Claus.

Click.

And so, Jimi went to bed that night no doubt dreaming of Sugar Plum Fairies, shiny shims and Santa with handcuffs.

Ho, ho, ho!

Merry Christmas, Everyone!

Let there be Peace on Earth!

Abridged too Far

A leader unafraid

The latest Erik Larson book, The Splendid and the Vile, chronicles the WWII Blitz of England and how Churchill and the British dealt with it.

It is continually interesting to read how the people of England dealt with privation, fear and death and how their leaders, particularly Churchill, guided both military and civilian responses to the havoc of Hitler and the Nazis.

Fascinating, too, are the details of how the Nazi government – run by madmen – controlled their own people through a sense of false patriotism, bullying and fear. If a German citizen did not adhere to the party line, or even questioned it, they would face repercussions including physical threats, imprisonment and even death.

Burning banned books…sound familiar?
Travel documents, please

One of the most remarkable things going on in England at the time of the Blitz and continuing during the course of the war was the effort to maintain as much of normalcy as possible. Children went to school, businesses were open, factories were working non-stop, pubs remained the neighborhood gathering spot, church services were conducted – sometimes in churches that had been bombed and…tea was still served.

Mass celebrated in bombed church. Trusting in God

Yes, politics, in every sense, were a consideration of the British cabinet, but the overarching goal was clear: defeat Hitler. Churchill made every effort to instill hope not despair, bravery not fear, selflessness not self-centeredness in his fellow Brits. When he would inspect the air raid shelters or tour neighborhoods just flattened by German bombs the people did not blame him for the destruction. No, they saw him as one of their own and cheered his unwillingness to be cowed by the scourge of Hitler.

Churchill visiting bombed Plymouth on 2 May 1941. Copyright: © IWM.

Fast forward to today.

The American people are being deterred from maintaining any sense of normalcy. Why?

Our government and media are fostering fear of everyone and anger at everything. Why?

The breaking point for many came this past week when President Biden stated:

…There’s a good chance – that you’re clueless

By July the Fourth there’s a good chance you, your families and friends will be able to get together in your backyard or in your neighborhood and have a cookout or a barbecue and celebrate Independence Day. That doesn’t mean large events with lots of people together, but it does mean small groups will be able to get together”.

A good chance we can get together with our families and friends in our own yards? Really, Mr. President?

The Fourth of July commemorates the American people throwing off the yoke of tyranny. Have you forgotten this, Mr. Biden? For it seems, with this statement, you have abridged our rights too far.

Stand up for Something

I

No more. Pray. Be brave, for God and Country.

Home

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We are home.

We have been in our new home since mid-June and, for the most part, we are unpacked and settled. What a feeling of relief!

To say that we are grateful and realize how blessed and lucky we are to be here in Staunton – at any time, but especially during these days of crazy, would be an understatement. It certainly is a time for reflection and prayer.

For this, my first blog in three months, I’ll divide it into basically three parts and in reverse order of the Clint Eastwood movie: The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.

The Ugly: Building a home is not for the feint-hearted, easily discouraged or those expecting everything to be as planned – or promised. Sometimes it can get real ugly. There, I’ve said it and now to move on.

The Bad: Between the Covid virus and the continuing riots in many parts of this country I feel as if we’re living in The Twilight Zone. Nothing makes sense. Yesterday, I read yet another report, this time from the Director of the CDC, that many – up to 17% by CDC’s estimate, of reported deaths from the Covid virus are fraudulent. Why? Because apparently hospitals and doctors are making money when they diagnose and treat someone for having been “exposed” to Covid.  And, of course, politicians are driving this system. Why has our national health care been hijacked by fraud and politics? Bad stuff.

But, what has struck a personal note with me is the abandonment and demonizing of our police by politicians and large and vociferous swaths of the public. It is a rare day when a cop, of any rank, can hope for and much less expect to be backed by a politician. Still, there was, until recently, a feeling that many, if not most, of the public still supported police in general. Corrupt, brutal, ignorant or untrained officers are a different topic. But, the vast, overwhelming majority of cops are decent, honest, compassionate and willing to work in environments most people have nightmares about. And now, many of our political elites attack and want to jail or fire them. Groups of agitators, paid, sadly misguided or mentally impaired riot nightly, violently attacking police and burning and smashing the dreams and work of ordinary people. This is will not end until every decent person says, “Enough”. This is very bad stuff, indeed.

And now, The Good!!

We are Home.

 

DSC_0823 (732x1024)Many of the design aspects we planned for our house have come to fruition. Our front porch has become one of our focal points and a great place for friends and neighbors to stop by and sit a (long) while. Morning coffee seems to taste better and ending the day looking at sunsets and talking things over while sitting in the rockers is a slice of heaven.

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Our fireplace with “instant” (gas) flames has already provided several somewhat chilly nights a cozy feeling. And, The Redhead can’t wait to decorate for Christmas. The Sunporch is a bright, sunny room. It faces East and offers a view of the sun rising over the mountains and treetops. In some ways it reminds me of both our Connecticut and Florida homes and gatherings of friends in the book clubs we hosted there. Maybe again?

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Once again I have a library. But, surprisingly, to me anyway, is that it has a somewhat cluttered look. Too many books? Never! But, looking at a jumble of wires draped over and around my desk is not pleasing. It’s unfortunate that whoever built my desk in 1790 could not have better planned for computer and speaker wires to be tucked away! But, there are nice cubbies for fountain pens and ink bottles…and that’s something.

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The kitchen has turned out quite well and cooking once again with a gas flame is wonderful.

Our house has become our home. We are blessed with wonderful friends, some neighbors, others close by. We have family – of the heart and blood. Some have already visited. The Redhead was in heaven this past week when, after 7 long months, she was again able to hold Grand baby Jonah.

Boppie and Jonah

And, finally, my plans to once again find, research and restore American vintage and antique furniture has begun to come about. Shelving has been set up in the basement, plans for work benches and stands are being drawn up and area auction houses (my hunting grounds) are once again opening up. There are several items on hand that require the Redeux Furniture treatment but then it’s on to newer, yet old, pieces of America’s past.

Thanks for reading and bearing with me. The pictures that are posted were taken sort of impromptu so ignore any out of place sofa pillows or coffee cups, etc. The Redhead has not edited any of these photos, so who knows!

 

Please feel free to comment or ask any questions. Click “Like” if you enjoy reading and/or “Follow” to get auto updates.

Please pray for our Country and our Cops.

Bill

Building a Home – 8

It’s been a while since I’ve posted updates of our home building project here in Augusta County, Staunton, Virginia. Because of the current virus distancing protocols, we haven’t been able to visit the site as often as we had previously. But, this afternoon, The Redhead and I met with our builder and went over a few remaining details and got an up close look at all the progress that has been made these past few weeks. What a change!

Most of the heavy work has been completed. The rear deck is awaiting stairs and the stairs to basement and attic will be finished shortly. Plumbing fixtures will be installed soon as will be the granite counter tops and kitchen cabinet doors. The Hickory wood floors have all been installed and are in the process of getting a final sanding before the finish is added. But, it really has come together.

Two features that we think will be very beneficial are ceiling fans in almost every room and the addition of interior insulation. Both features will help in maintaining comfortable temperatures year-round and the insulation of the interior walls will also help to  reduce noise between rooms. I’ll update on this after we have settled in for a while.

Now, come along and take a peek at what will soon be our new home.

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View of Living Room from front entrance. Fireplace is awaiting custom cabinetry. Sun porch is through doorways.

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Sun Porch with view of deck. Facing East, we’ll get views of sunrise above the mountains and sometimes our neighbor’s cows! Walls are getting paint touch-ups.

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Wall of cabinets awaiting granite counters. Marble subway-style tiles will be used as back splash and wall around stove vent and duct. Walk-in pantry is to right.

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Another wall of hand-made cabinets.Top section of upper cabinets will have glass fronts. Dining room is through doorway.

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One of the guest bedrooms, view of front yard.

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2nd guest bedroom, view of sunrises and cows!

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View of front entryway and dining room. Notice the extra tall front door.

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Painter David doing touch-up painting in Laundry Room. Ya’ gotta love that “Corona Doo” hairstyle! David started out on our house as a framing apprentice but turned out to be an excellent painter.

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The Redhead (wearing hat) visiting with our across the street friends and neighbors, Ann and James.

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Front of our new Staunton , Virginia home. Front porch columns, when finished, will be tapered in a Craftsman style.

So, there you are. Work on the house is now going full-steam ahead. Closing may be very late this month or possibly the beginning of June. The lock-downs have caused a bit of a slow down with personnel and the material supply chain. But, all seems well now.

The Redhead and I are going to have our work cut out for us in landscaping the yards, planting shrubs, etc. Any volunteers??

Personally, I can’t wait to set up my workshop in the spacious basement and get back to reviving American vintage furniture. It’s been several years since I’ve mixed my varnishes and stains and used my glues, clamps and brushes. Let’s hope I’ve retained some of my Redeux Vintage Furniture skills!

A special thanks to all of our friends and “family of the heart” that have kept us in their prayers. Without your support and prayers, tonight’s blog may have been a different story. And, thanks to St. Padre Pio, your intercession has never failed.

Bill

 

 

Leave the Gun, Take the Cannoli

One of the many lessons I learned years ago as a young policeman in training was to “watch the eyes”. The eyes will tell you everything, kid, the veterans would say. Watch someone’s eyes and you can tell when they’re lying, when they’re afraid, sad and when they’re broken. They’ll tell you when someone’s hiding something. They’ll tell you when someone’s crazy and when you’re going to have big trouble. Watch the eyes, kid.

We’re in trouble. Big trouble.

Since moving here a year and a half ago, one of the things we noticed and one of the deciding factors of choosing to relocate here was the friendliness. Not just a quick, “How are ya”, from folks we’d meet, but a genuine smile and, more often than not, a conversation. The government’s decision to incarcerate us all within the confines of, if not our homes, certainly within our personal space of six feet (or is it 23 feet this week) has taken a toll on all of us. Our walk yesterday through Staunton’s beautiful Gypsy Hill Park proved that.

Normally, people walking by would smile and at least say, “Good morning”. If you’d meet near the duck pond, some type of conversation would arise: the new geese, the number and size of fish in the pond or how beautiful it was to be at the park just then – even if it happened to be raining. The world is filled with Stauntons (or at least somewhat close to it), but something has changed.

No eye contact. Even folks fully encased in face masks, gloves and eye wear literally moved to the other side of the road, heads down, when either approaching or passing us. And, it wasn’t just us. Except for folks walking in pairs, everyone avoided everyone else. If we said, Hi, or, Good Morning, to someone, almost always…silence. People have moved beyond being sensibly cautious to being afraid. We’re in trouble. Big trouble.

Think of the differing and often conflicting messages we have been given by our so-called experts and elected “leaders”:

Wash hands often. O.k., sensible and good.

Avoid unnecessary contact with people that are sick or appear to be sick. O.K., Mama told us that.

You can’t tell if someone is sick, even they may not know it, so avoid everybody. Huh?

You can’t get a haircut, it’s unessential. Whaat?

Abortions are essential, so they’re o.k. No Comment.

Wear a mask. Weren’t people arrested ( Richmond, VA) just a few weeks ago for wearing a mask in public?

Wear gloves. Now we’re being told that wearing gloves might not be such a great idea. Just wash your hands.

This “Lockdown” is for your own good. Really?

You can get a hamburger or coffee only at the drive-thru. Oh, well, I wasn’t planning to wear this shirt for more than 4 days, anyway! (LOL)

You can’t attend a drive-thru church service. Hmmm, we’ll see about that.

Walmart, Lowes, Home Depot,  etc. are essential so they can stay open. I have no problem with that.

Small Retailers are not essential so they Must close. Really, who decides?

And, here’s my latest favorite advice from none other than the esteemed expert in viruses and contagious diseases, Dr. Anthony Fauci: Avoid going outside your home, BUT, it’s o.k. to “Hook-UP” with a Tinder or Grindr “date” if you think it’s worth it!! This would be a joke if this “expert” wasn’t so influential in directing the madness affecting all of us. (https://nypost.com/2020/04/15/fauci-endorses-tinder-hookups-with-a-caveat/)

The list of these conflicting and mostly unwarranted regulations and advice could go on and on. But, here’s the real problem: People are getting sick, really sick, from THE LOCKDOWN! Reports are beginning to surface that Suicide Crises Centers and Substance Abuse Hotlines are seeing dramatic increases in calls for help from people that can’t take this anymore. And that number most likely reflects those among us that are already or have been in some type of emotional or substance crises. Can you imagine the stress on a young family when the family income has been turned off? Or on a small business owner that has worked day and night to start a business to have it suddenly deemed, “Non-Essential” and shut down? This is not only nonsensical and unnecessary, but, I would say, probably sinful. Bureaucrats and self-styled experts have wrecked the lives of an entire nation and also taken away two things that are so important in times of crises: The ability to pray with and be with one another. Our country has gone through many wars, both on our soil and abroad. But, I am not aware of when churches were closed. Or of when we looked at everyone else with this fear and suspicion. Something is wrong. You can see it in the eyes, kid.

We can fight this virus. After all, we have had epidemic and pandemic viruses many times before. But, we are social and spiritual beings. Take that away and we’ll do to ourselves what no virus can.

See what happens when you keep me locked up!

There is the famous line in the movie, The Godfather:Leave the gun, take the cannoli. Even a hitman, after taking care of business, knew that being social was an important part of being a family. Can’t we, too, take care of business and still remain a family?

Pray, Be kind, Stay safe, Think.

Wake up and Smell the Coffee

At 7:00 a.m. this morning there was a worldwide sharing of prayer for the end of the Corona Virus. Rather than being a sign of panic, this uniting in prayer is one more – and probably the best – weapon in our arsenal to defeat this sickness. If you missed this event, rest assured that millions upon millions of people are praying all the time for this scourge to end and we can join them at any time.

But, in addition to prayer, we can do something else with this quiet time we have been forced into.

How are we spending this time? For me, I have, for now, just about reached my limit with both Netflix and Amazon. The other day I attempted to find movies dealing with how people endured times of war. Not much luck – at least with finding decent movies that did not require additional fees. So much for watching the classic, Mrs. Miniver. Reading has always been a passion for me, but nearly all of our books have been packed in anticipation of our move. Thanks to our friend, MaryEllen, I do have a few that are still unread and were tucked under my nightstand. Whew!

Social distancing has certainly kept our personal contacts at a minimum.

Are Ya’ Home?

But, many folks continue to check on family and neighbors however possible, even if it’s a text or phone call just to say, Hello, how are you, can I do anything for ya’? Small things go a long way.

Speaking of small things, one small but significant highlight for us is our cup of coffee. Usually, we’ll have one (maybe two) in the morning and later in the afternoon. We enjoy it and recently my doctor told me that coffee, in moderation, can be beneficial. Since Costco is off limits for us now, we no longer have access to their store brand of “100% Colombian” coffee. For what is termed, commodity coffee (basic), it’s pretty darn good and cheap. With all this new found time and the need to seek other sources, I’ve “discovered” two new favorites.

First, is a whole bean, Mocha Java coffee from Mayorga Roasters. It’s smooth and flavorful. It’s available in 2 pound bags from Amazon or directly from Mayorga. Our Second new favorite is an organic whole bean Honduran coffee available from Aldi. Pretty good and we’re glad we found it.

Two of my favorite coffees

So, what’s your favorite coffee that you make at home? Let me know!

Pray, stay healthy, keep in touch and… Wake up and Smell the Coffee!

Bill

The wonder of it all

Blue Ridge Mountains, late afternoon

January, so far, has been one of those periods of time when it seems life runs its own course and we just have to sit back and wonder at it all.

Such was the case when, earlier this month, The Redhead’s father passed after a lengthy illness. No matter when it comes, the passing of a parent stirs emotions that cannot be expressed but is understood by everyone that has gone through it. During it all, our family and friends in Connecticut, Florida, here in Staunton and elsewhere, brought us much comfort, support and love.

Death, for those that believe in its finality, can be devastating. Yet, if death is understood more as a passing or moving from one reality to another, it can bring comfort and even joy. To experience contrition, forgiveness and love at any time is wonderful, but at the end it is beautiful. Truly, God’s Hand in all matters is a wondrous thing.

Before her dad passed, The Redhead had us facetime. We spoke about several things, one of them being the building of our house here in Staunton, VA and his happiness that his daughter would be living in such a beautiful home and area. He reminded me of our walks and talks along his beloved Marginal Way in Ogunquit, Maine and I told him that I would also remember his tips about planting a flower garden – “always add a pop of white, it brings out the other colors”! I’ll do my best, but Augusta County clay soil is a far cry from the soil found in coastal Maine. Thanks for the tips, Norman. And, thank you for The Redhead.

So, now things are starting to really come together at the house. The framing is nearly complete and the rooms, while still only 2×4’s, are now clearly defined. A few tweaks here and there remain: a repositioning of the vanity in the Master Bath, the addition of an entry hall closet and a little tweak in the dining room to accommodate a hutch – little things that will mean a lot to us now and later. Our Builders, Eric and Amy Argenbright, have been very understanding of what we are trying to accomplish: a beautiful home that will suit us now and for a long time to come. We appreciate their ideas and especially their attention to quality and craftsmanship.

Following are a few photos of the work that has taken place in just these past few weeks:

Building the front porch
Setting the Trusses
Eric Argenbright selecting the correct roof truss for the crane
Risky Business
Man and Machine
Getting There
Back view, it looks bigger than it is! The sun room is in center.
Our soon-to-be new home in Staunton, VA

Thanks for reading and a special thanks to our very special friends that are our family.

Everything is going to be o.k.

Every year ends the same: We are bombarded with lists of “Best Of” and “Worst Of” the previous year, reviews of what actually occurred from last year’s list of predictions and, of course, new lists of what will happen this coming year.

I’ve got this figured out now!

Sages and pundits will have a prediction for everything: what  the “hottest” colors and fashion trends will be, what will happen to the stock / housing market, what will happen with foreign friends and foes, etc., etc. I’ll bet there will even be a few soothsayers that will predict who the next president will be! Ya’ think?

Oy, Vey, what will happen??

I’m thinking, though, that like this past year, when events do unfold most of us will simply scratch our heads and think, “Well, ain’t that something”. Is this the result of apathy or disinterest? No, not at all. It’s more a belief in that everything is going to be o.k. and some of us have been “around the block” a few times. There are, believe it or not (to coin a phrase), people that actually make a living trying to scare the bejeepers out of us. Oh, yeah!

Are ya’ scared yet?

So, because everything is going to be o.k., here is what we plan to do this coming year:

Plan our “Housewarming Party” for this coming Spring.

Plan which trees and shrubs we’ll plant on our property because, despite an abundance of clay soil, it’s going to be o.k. – something will grow.

Plan on a layout for my new basement workshop because, yes, I’m getting back to work.

No more working in “The Dungeon”! No wonder I lost my hair!

Plan to find some porch rockers because, despite being new-comers here in Staunton, VA it will be o.k. Friends and new neighbors will come by and set awhile on our front porch. And, vice-versa!

Entertainin’, Gibby style!

But, mostly, I plan to be happy and thankful. Because everything is going to be o.k. Believe it!

Thanks to all of our friends, old and new, that have become or have remained such an important part of our lives. And, I am truly thankful to God, His Holy Mother and St. Joseph and St. Padre Pio for the gift of healing my beautiful Redhead this past year.

Below are some pics of an unexpected Christmas / New Year gift from our builders: our framing has started!

Front of house, library will be second window from left!
Some views!

Wishing you all a very Happy New Year.  Everything will be o.k.

Bill

Punked

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Nobody is going to punk her.

Today’s news carried the tragic report of an eight year old girl that died from injuries she had sustained several months ago. The details of the report, although few, are bizarre and shocking. The girl was at home with her family when she became involved in a game of Dare. Someone dares you to do something and if you do it you get to challenge them. If you don’t fulfill the dare, well, it depends on the group playing. This eight year old girl, surrounded by her family – adults and other children – was given the dare to drink a glass of boiling water using a straw. She accepted and the resulting injuries sent her to the hospital where, after several operations she was returned home, but with lingering complications. Two days ago she complained of breathing difficulties and before the arrival of an ambulance, she died.

Comprehending what type of family would allow this type of “game” to take place in the presence of adults is even really beyond the ability of someone that has seen a lot. But, what has left me absolutely shocked is the explanation and rationale of the events as explained by one of the adults witnessing the game – the little girl’s aunt. Going forward, I will refer to the little girl as, “Angel”.

Aunt to Reporter: Well, they were all playing that Dare game. Everyone knows you don’t dare Angel, because she will not be punked (note from Bill -while there are several definitions of the slang term, “being punked”, in this instance it refers to being made to feel someone’s inferior).  She will accept the dare and do it. Everyone knows that’s the way Angel is. So when they brought out the boiling water and dared her to drink it with a straw, she did. She wasn’t going to be punked. No, sir, nobody is going to punk her.

Angel, unfortunately, is not alone in refusing to be punked and then paying the consequences. Every day and I do mean every day, there are reports of people, many of them kids, shooting and being shot, killing and being killed. All of the old excuses for violence: the lack of jobs, the need for more gun control, poverty, poor housing, etc., etc., simply cannot explain what is going on. Here in Jacksonville we have an abundance of jobs, and good ones. What is considered to be a rundown neighborhood here would pass for a middle-class neighborhood in many cities up North. There are miles of beachfront and riverfront open to everyone, recreational opportunities are so many and so varied they can’t be counted. Most cost little or nothing. Yet, something is destroying us. Is it drugs? Is it families that teach their kids to not be punked, no matter what? What is happening?

For the sake of Angel and all the other Angels, we had better find out.

Looking Within

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It is interesting how we react when something goes wrong.

These past few weeks have presented a few challenges. It was a challenge for my patience when rain came into our house because our roof hadn’t been flashed and sealed properly. More likely it was the reaction of the roofer that presented the biggest test and, yet, this setback also set into motion a remarkable gift of kindness. And then there was the challenge of practicing patience and charity when confronted by unpleasantness. It has taken me these past few weeks to sort things out before I could write of them.

Florida rain is something that has to be experienced to be believed. At best it is strong. At worst it is like a fire hose directed down from the heavens. Two weeks ago we had the fire hose treatment. We had just left the parking lot of Lowe’s, having picked up a few things for our house. We sat in the car waiting until we could at least see out of the windshield before driving the mile or so to home. How great, we said, that all of our remodeling was coming to an end. Sister Swammy was coming soon and so, too, were Sue and Mary Ellen. We spoke of enjoying late nights talking in our new sun room and enjoying the pool. Imagine our surprise when, upon arriving home, we opened the door and found the pool moved from the community clubhouse to our living room. Water. Everywhere. Mercifully, the rain soon stopped.

The reaction of the roofer when we called him to report the leak and water into our home was the challenge to our patience. I hadn’t been aware that Friday afternoon signaled the end of a roofer’s work week and that there was nothing he could do. We also didn’t know that our problem was “our problem” and we’d be put onto a list.

Now, this roofer is a nice enough young fellow, I suppose. He inherited the business from his parents that had built it over a period of thirty five years into one of the areas most respected roofing contractors. I guess Sonny Boy forgot rule #1. While I may have been speechless with everything, I wasn’t finger-less. I typed an email to “mommy and daddy” (who still run the office part of the business). The following morning Sonny was at our door with a dehumidifier and a ladder. But, not a smile. Imagine! He continued to blame the leak on the sun room folks, the chimney repair folks and “whoever else” may have been near our house. To his credit, within the next few days his crew fixed the “not flashed” areas and sealed and shingled the remaining parts of the roof. No more leaks!20150812_2514

Now, the gift of kindness. We notified the sun room folks, as well as the chimney repair contractor, about our leak. After a few seconds of silence the sun room builder said, “Mr. Bill, we’re sorry this happened to you folks. The problem is in the roof. We pointed it out to the roofer (I knew this). But, we’ll fix everything. Any damage that was caused, we’ll take care of it. Don’t give it another minute’s thought.” Interestingly, it turned out that the damage was confined to some paint and baseboard (our tile floors were superbly installed with excellent adhesive and grout).

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But, the offer was made with a “worst case” scenario still possible. Ryan Hammer (what a name for a contractor!), also a young guy, (surfer, too) knows Rule # 1 very well: take care of the problem, take care of the customer.

The second recent challenge came when we met with one of the men that had painted our house a few months ago. He had been polite and diligent while working here.  So, when he asked to meet with us to discuss having started his own business, we said, sure, come on over. He explained how he and another fellow worker left their old company and started their own business. They would do everything right, he said. He then proudly showed me his new business card. The logo had an image of “The Old Rugged Cross” and below that, in bold face type, was written, “Working for God and People”. Interesting. Seconds later he made a derogatory remark against a religion, not his own, but close to me. It was like being slapped – in my own kitchen. After a minute or so I thanked him for coming and walked him to his car. I then said, “You know, …, you made a remark about people of a certain religious belief. My family is of that belief.” It seemed that he would nearly feint. He said he didn’t mean it; that he was sorry that he said it. I’m sure he was. The conversation, the business card, the remark – all have stayed and troubled me this past week. It is because I saw a glimpse of myself. It is one thing to carry a cross or a medal or a mezuzah or, whatever might be a symbol of your faith. It is another to live it. The challenge, my challenge, is to live it. Always. All ways. And, I thank that young, careless-tongued painter for reminding me of that.

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On another note, the sun room windows are being installed this week. It certainly makes the area more room-like, rather than the open space it has been these past few months. The overhead fans will be installed this coming week and we have decided to put in flooring – easy care, no carpet. We’ll probably do some type of a no- worry, vinyl wood-look that will hold up to any humidity or “accidents”.

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Our kitchen pendant lights and some additional exterior lighting has finally been hooked up, too. 20150818_2523 (768x1024)

We’ve decided, too, that the 2nd bedroom/office will be furnished with a queen sized bed so everybody staying here will be comfy. Rather than duplicating the beach cottage look of the other room this room will have a New England feel to it. It is where I will do my writing – when not otherwise occupied.

As I write this it is pouring rain. Funny, after a few leaks, both the Redhead and I keep looking around for drips…or worse. So far…no, I won’t jinx it!

But, aren’t rainy days for reading? How I miss my little library! This week, I have ordered, from Wayfair (first time), some nice looking bookshelves for my still packed books.DaVinci-MDB-Bookcase-M5926E (222x378)These shelves will go into the living room and perhaps more will be added later.

Everything is coming together! There are a few things missing. But, soon, very soon they will be here.

Will this ever get done?
Will this ever get done?