Influences...

The other day I stepped on a big 'ol ugly spider scampering across the floor of my garage.  I recalled a joke I had heard...and told...many times and years ago.

"What was the last thing to go through the bugs mind as it hit the windshield?  His ass."

Just like that spider and the bug on the windshield it can be said, "They never saw it coming."  I've heard many humans utter those words...usually about someone else, and rarely about their own life.  Humans rarely take the time to reflect and look around to see what may be lurking in the shadows.  I'd venture to say that even fewer take the time to become aware of the darkness and/or light that plays tag with each of us within.  Did I say aware???  For hell's sake, even admit to any of it.  Awareness is our foundation of existence. It is the observer within us, the essence of life. Without awareness there is no consciousness, no mind, and no life. It is the core of our being.  It is what gives us the ability to see "it" coming...that separates us from the likes of that spider.

It is time for me to take that inner trip once again.  Over then next week or two I am going to spend some time enjoying the three books that have added the most to my life:

• The Little Prince, by Antoine de St. Xupery - it's influence on friends, family, & relationships
• Walden, by Henry D. Thoreau - it's influence on finances, simplicity, and being still
• Siddartha, by Herman Hesse - my life influence on finding peace, the atman within, and respecting the journey of others

One Soft Kiss

This Sunday marks the third anniversary of Astri and I getting married.  Looking back, the only days that compare are the births of our six children.  I revel in the idea of looking forward with Astri.  I've seemed to have changed many times over the years; each time I feel I became a better man.  Working through the personal errors, challenging my character when it needed it...I feel I am the best man now that I've ever been. It is a blessing is to have become that man by the time I found Astri.  Knowing that I've become an even better man over the four years we've known each other.  I hope the man I have become will find a continued path; that there is an avenue in Astri's life and in those of our children where this man will have served a purpose...beyond just just a repository for berlinakranser and Astri's carrot cake! <wink>

A couple of years before I met Astri I was feeling a bit creative.  Being a scientist that doesn't happen often, so when it does I need to take full advantage of it.  I am a thinker...and a talker.  At times it is not such an easy act for me to put my thoughts down in prose.

During that "creative" time I was thinking about where I was in my life and where I wanted to be.  Relationships are always a part of that...be it work, personal, or those with our children.  I just happen to start thinking about the freshness of a new relationship.  We have all heard the song "It's in his kiss."  I was thinking about that first kiss, and really how important it is, a memory we never want to let go of.  I asked myself what I would want in that first kiss.  What is below is what I came up with:

After expressing it on paper I found a lady to transcribe it in the calligraphy you see above.  I rolled it up into a tube and put it away.  Then I met Astri.  Our first kiss was exactly as I had written.  One evening I pulled it out and showed it to her (THE POEM!!!).  She had had the same feeling as I described in the poem also.  I had never displayed the poem before, but after our wedding we framed it with a photo from our $35 wedding.  The memory just keeps getting better and better.  I love my Astri!

This "Bud's" for You

I am an American by birth...and an American by choice.  I love this country; in my mind there is no better game in town; this is my homeland.  I'm fairly sure this how most people around the world feel about their own countries also, as they should.  I am also very inexperienced when it comes to world travels.  A few years ago I spent three "tours" of 27 days in Equatorial Guinea, on the island of Bioko, as part of an environmental assessment for the World Bank.  As the plane touched down I immediately understood why I've never seen it mentioned in any tourist magazines...but I digress...

No, this is NOT Norway

Jeg kan være en amerikansk, men jeg er gift med en norsk...I may be an American, but I am married to a Norwegian.  A norsk that loves what both countries have to offer.  She maintains a blog where I am commonly, and lovingly, referred to as the NVO (norsk via osmosis).  It only took one trip to Norway with her to see why she still carries that love and wants to share it with me.  Although most Norwegians speak very good English (thank gawd), I went away with a desire to learn the language of my wife's heritage (she speaks very good norsk).  I have been amazed at some of the similarities between norsk og engelsk (since both are Germanic languages)...but I digress (I should have majored in "digression" in college)...


There are many subtle sounds in the Norwegian language that I cannot yet detect.  To me they sound so similar, but can make a huge difference in meaning...west (øst), cheese (ost), autumn (høst).  They may be spelled and readable as different words, but trying to hear the differences or pronounce them...huff a huff.  This is just one of many examples.

Molde

One true life example that did not involve me, but I was a close observer, involved my wife while we were shopping in Molde.  Astri was looking for a pewter plate to add to a collection she has, made by a Norwegian artist.  Within a small shop she located one she "thought" she was missing (only to find out when we got back that it was one she already had).   Wow...this story is taking a long time...come on NVO, get to the point!  Even though Astri is and looks Norwegian, my guess is my American decent was apparent as I stepped through the door.  Astri and the lady chatted in and out of Norwegian and English.  Near the end of the chat it came up that Astri's mother lived in Norway.  When asked where, she replied, "Bud."  Now "Bud" is just over a couple of hills and fjord's, maybe 45 minutes, surely she had heard of it, but apparently not.  Now, for all you silly Americans, "Bud" is NOT pronounced exactly like the American beer (now owned by a Dutch company if my memory serves me right).  You have to take the "u" part and drop your jaw downward as you say it...and the "d" is silent.


The next two minutes was like Keystone Cops in a talking picture.  The exchange between Astri and the sales lady put me in a chuckle.  How many ways can you pronounce a three letter word?  They began a back and forth conversation of that one word, each with a subtle difference.  It was like watching the volley in a tennis match with "Bud" being thrown back and forth for what seemed like two minutes!   Finally the sales lady says, "Oh....Bud!"  I've looked in the dictionary and I cannot find any word that could get confused with Bud.  They laughed for a bit about the exchange.  Then, isn what I would like to think was a typical Norwegian response, asked us, complete strangers, if we'd like to go out with her family that evening crabbing along the rocks.

Molde

Astri and I still get a lot of mileage out of that story.  Anytime we say something to each other and it isn't understood, you'll more often than not hear us in the volley of "Bud? Boo-d, Bood? Buud  Boo?....."


This Bud's for you!

Dad Humor, Pt.2

In the earlier post on "Dad Humor" I mentioned some of the items we get from our kids when they are young.  Here are a few of the items I have; not only have, but they are displayed.  I've had them displayed for over 20 years.

This was one of Leilani's first attempts at a cross-stitch...and maybe her last?

Jessica carved this out of a piece of sandstone.

Jared and Rebekah made these casts of their hands.  I put them in a frame later to display and protect.

Life Shapers

I am not a philosopher, I can't "wax-eloquent", and I have a difficult time putting my thought down in prose.  That is probably because capturing them is like herding cats...they run around inside this melon on my shoulders at just under the speed of light; making it very difficult to catch on to them long enough to explain them.  And when I do...another one distracts me and here we go again.  My only recourse is to stop trying to grab hold of them and reflect.  It is like ignoring a child (or and adult for that matter).  When you aren't paying attention to just them, they tend to slow down and try to figure out why.

I noticed that with the first filly my mare gave me years ago.  If I walked after her she'd just run away...for hours.  Horse burgers sounded really good a number of times.  I decided I had few options: 1) eat her, 2) sell her (if I could catch her), 3) make her run until she was so tired she thought she'd die (which is a common method amongst the wanna-be cowboys), or 4) use their natural curiosity to my favor.

With her halter in hand, a chair, and one of my favorite books I sat out in the middle of the pasture.  Her mom would follow me around like a fly on stink, so I put her in the adjoining pasture.  I sat, read, and waited.  It took a little over an hour, but soon she (Scooter) became curious and slowly walked over to me, wanting to see what I was up to.  As she got closer I'd start reading out loud, stop and look at her, pause, and go back to reading.  Soon she couldn't stand it and came right in.  I let her sniff a bit, then I'd wave my hands and scare her off...picking up my chair and moving to a different spot.  It didn't take long before she was in my space again, wondering what I was doing.  I repeated this for about four hours.  By the time I was done she followed me around like I had carrots in my pocket.  Not only was I teaching her that her curiosity was a good thing, but that she could trust me not to try to capture her.

My horses were one of the most influential things in my life.  They comprise one set of the ideas scattering around in my melon.  Others of influence in my past would be my parents, my children, and my three favorite books.  These are the primary instruments that shaped my life.  However, the most exciting part of life now is taking all the things in my past that made me...me...and finding a partner, wife, and best friend to take them to levels I had never considered existed.  The ingredients are mixed and the cake is in the oven...and she is the one that makes sure it doesn't fall.  There are many parts of my past journey that we cannot share together beyond those racing thoughts, such as my past with the horses.  The shaping of my life continues, reflecting on what is most important in my life is what feeds the continuing evolution of my spirit.  One chapter of this reflection my Lizzie and I do share has to do with the three most important books in my life, to find the atman within me:

• The Little Prince, by Antoine de St. Xupery
• Walden, by Henry David Throeau, and
• Siddhartha, by Herman Hesse

Winter

I am a typical Utard...can't wait for winter in the midst of summer...when it gets real cold...come on summer.  But, at least when it is snowy I get to do fun things like this!  I love my Lizzie!

~ Digger

PDA

Out and about, taking care of our daily business.  Pausing to check our watch for the time, waiting for a passing car, answering our phone (which we should have left at home); we notice a couple engaged in what is called a public display of affection, aka., PDA.  Poll a group of people and you'll get a variety of responses.  Some of the most common include: "Aaahhhhh", "Yuk", "Get a room", "How come you never do that to me?"

How people define "public" when it come to PDA varies also.  Now I admit, I don't really care to see spit trails between two people smaking on a park bench, or hear moans that only make me want to run home and shag my wife; but there are types of PDA that tell the world how you feel about your partner.  One of my favorites was a commercial where a man and woman are standing on some steps in front of a large court house type building.  All of a sudden he yells at the top of his lungs, "I LOVE MY WIFE!!!"  She looks all around as the pigeons in the area scatter.  She is unaware how to respond.  Then she embraces him and whispers softly in his ear, "I love my husband."  All of us handle PDA in different ways.

What got me thinking about this was a post my son made on his wife's Facebook wall.  He simple said "I love you."  Almost immediately, a couple of his friends began giving him a hard time, using a "playful" slur.  I was proud of my son. 

When we think of being in public we usually think of being outside at a park, in line at a store, in a stadium at a ball game, etc.  But that "public" has nothing on Facebook or any social media.  In our general definition of "public" there would only be a few people that would see our PDA, chances are they are unknown observers, never to lay eyes on us again.  However, what can me more "public" than Facebook?!  Where else can one express PDA, not in front of a few strangers we will never encounter again, but in front of those that we claim as our "friends."  Expressions where the spit trails aren't seen, the goo-goo eyes are hidden, the groping hands are reserved for a later time; yet the one we adore still feels all the emotion.  PDA of the heart.

I also enjoyed reading one of my daughters having a short and similar exchange with her hubby on their Facebook walls...again, I was proud.  I hope that more and more couples will use Social Media outlets like Facebook to not only reach out for more "friends", but as a way to express to those "friends" how enriched their life is because of their relationship and attact/encourage "friends" to show some PDA today.

~ Digger