On June 21, the senior environmental engineer of the MLC* quit. Unexpectedly. I walked in to work on that Friday, my then manager caught me before I had a chance to start my day, and told me the news. He also gave me a promotion, a new job title (staff environmental engineer), and a pay raise. I was moving from the environmental field that I loved and had training in--water & waste--into a field that I had little relevant training and little love for--air.
Air pollution is a beast. The rules and regulations are overly complex. The redundancy is ridiculous. I had no desire to enter air, but then I was there. Now, almost 5 months later, the senior position still has not been filled and the projects keep stacking up. I'm surprised to find that I actually enjoy some of the air side of things, though water is still my desired field.
Additionally, launching Encounter Community Church back in August has equally added to my day-to-day. It's something I'm passionate about--making disciples who make disciples--enough so that I'm staking my claim on the words of the One who established The Church. Disciple making was Jesus' primary objective on earth. It was important to Him, obviously, or He wouldn't have brought it up in His last statements before He went back to Heaven. ECC is going strong and God is blessing us and I'm thankful to be a part of it.
But what sucks is the timedrain that's been applied. My hour commute added with my long work days added with ECC work leaves me drained. Me being drained unfortunately results in my family being neglected. I treasure the time I get to spend with Keisha and Avonlea and Callum. I love my family so much and I miss them when I'm not home. I need to be a better husband, a better father. I need to efficiently spend my time with them when I'm home. I'm aware of the issue and I sincerely believe that it's a temporary thing, but I also realize that I have to stay on top of it or else I'll become yet another zombie enslaved to the consumer, self-serving culture. Godspeed to me, I say.
That's where I'm at. That's where I've been. That's why my blog is sidelined, cause at the end of the day this thing is just an electronic archive of my life, a digital record for the future me to look back upon and read. Just like taking a picture or recording a video is great and all, but if
taking a picture comes at the expense of actually missing the event,
then what's the point? A picture is a memory. A picture for a
picture's sake is not a memory at all. There is the functional purpose of book reviews here on Rememorandom, but that's a mere corollary to the intent.
And I'm all about living intentionally, living honestly, openly, sincerely, unashamed and unafraid. I hope you are, too.
Showing posts with label about me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label about me. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
Friday, August 02, 2013
Leaving Church
I was asked earlier this year to pray about a decision.
It was difficult and painful.
But I prayed and I saw what the Spirit was doing, if only a
glimpse.
Moreso, I saw what could be.
And I made my choice.
Keisha came to the same decision.
On Sunday, July 13, we left the church.
Well… we left the local church body we were part of, which
isn’t to say The Church.
No. God forbid.
Instead, we are joining a group of followers who are going
to plant a church. We’re all willing to
shuck norms and instead actively engage in the call to discipleship. We long to become fully devoted followers of
Christ, and we long for others to do likewise.
I miss the former body I partnered with, but Jesus said
following Him would require sacrifice.
Me, I’m willing to sacrifice anything for the Murdered One
who died for me.
I’m willing to do whatever it takes.
For whoever will listen.
Wherever He leads me.
Forever.
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
2013 in on Cat's Feet
I find myself writing as a twenty-seven year old, stomping my feet to a Counting Crows' cover of Pure Prairie League's "Amie," reflecting on the hundreds of blue words I just had directed in my general direction, cold from below freezing temperatures and warmed from a rugged Carhartt. Life, it seems, is treating me better than I deserve.
Heading off to HazMat training for the next few days. Gonna be holed up in a ultra fancy, sleek, swanky, modern hotel, learning about hazardous waste and how to correctly (i.e. safely) manage it. Ever a student, I really enjoy going to classes and workshops and things.
Well, there's Matchbox Twenty on shuffle. They were a favorite back in high school, and I suppose I still can dig it.
Settling into the new house (still unnamed). Furnace has finally been replaced. Only out four grand from the start. Quite disappointing to not have followed the inspector's suggestion at getting the furnace further examined. Nevertheless, I learn.
On a creative writing note, I've done hardly a thing. A few ideas scribbled in haste, but nothing more than that. I've had a fundamental shift of focus on writing and it's kind of restrictive.
And well, it's my birthday, so really I guess that's about it. Journaling's prominent flames are now reduced to embers. Poor, neglected Rememorandom. Looks like I may shift the blog to a more focused thing, too, using it only as a collection for reviews and little more. Makes sense, honestly. Makes me a bit sad, too. We'll see.
Heading off to HazMat training for the next few days. Gonna be holed up in a ultra fancy, sleek, swanky, modern hotel, learning about hazardous waste and how to correctly (i.e. safely) manage it. Ever a student, I really enjoy going to classes and workshops and things.
Well, there's Matchbox Twenty on shuffle. They were a favorite back in high school, and I suppose I still can dig it.
Settling into the new house (still unnamed). Furnace has finally been replaced. Only out four grand from the start. Quite disappointing to not have followed the inspector's suggestion at getting the furnace further examined. Nevertheless, I learn.
On a creative writing note, I've done hardly a thing. A few ideas scribbled in haste, but nothing more than that. I've had a fundamental shift of focus on writing and it's kind of restrictive.
And well, it's my birthday, so really I guess that's about it. Journaling's prominent flames are now reduced to embers. Poor, neglected Rememorandom. Looks like I may shift the blog to a more focused thing, too, using it only as a collection for reviews and little more. Makes sense, honestly. Makes me a bit sad, too. We'll see.
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
A Tragic Christmas Worth Remembering
On Friday, December 21, the Stewart family moved into our new residence. We were pretty sure that we wouldn't be in before Christmas, but through tireless efforts from our realtor and our lender, and through the providence of a caring Father, we did. The home is beautiful and far beyond what we hoped for. A ranch style spread sitting on 1.5 acres--with trees! Hardwood flooring throughout. An attached garage with an almost finished out attic. A plot for a garden. Lots of stuff, and we love it.
On Saturday, December 22, we spent the entire day unloading boxes and putting stuff up and together. A long day, but not unpleasant. Many thanks to all those who were able to help.
On Sunday, December 23, we heard a sermon on the birth of Jesus. How His birth, His life, His death, and His resurrection--the Gospel, His gift of grace--is the ultimate present to unwrap on Christmas. How so much God loves the world that He extends to us grace and redemption when we don't deserve it. And that night, as every year on December 23, the entire extended family gathered together in Bremen to enjoy one each other's company. This has always been so as long as I can remember. Coming together as a family. It's a unique experience, as I come from a family where love is apparent and obvious, where people honestly care about one another, where the backbiting and gossiping is relatively minuscule and non-existent. My family may not have much in the realm of materialism, but we're over-abundant when it comes to love. That's how we are.
After the get-together was over we stopped by Mamaw's house to pick up Stella and to check on her. She left the gathering early. She hadn't been feeling to good. So we stopped and spent a good hour-and-a-half there, just talking and chiding Mamaw's stubbornness. She didn't want to spend Christmas in the hospital, she said. She'd go after Christmas. So I took her trash outside for her and Keisha offered to take some of the food home with us and prepare it so she wouldn't have to. Mostly we just sat around and talked and watched Avonlea play with Mamaw's water bottle and eyeglasses. Hilarious stuff, really.
Mom spent the night with Mamaw and we left to go to our new home.
At 3:54am on December 24, Mom called and told me that Mamaw didn't have a pulse. She passed away not long after.
On Monday, December 24, we went to the funeral home and went through all the routine stuff. Questions, answers, coffin room. We were all stunned. Christmas at Keisha's grandmothers that night to try normalcy, but my heart and mind were elsewhere. All I can think about is how fulfilled my relationship was with Mamaw, how much I loved her and how much she loved me. I spent the formative years of my life living with Mamaw, and my relationship was incredibly deep. Many nights I spent down her house and she'd wake up early to take me and Jake home before going to work. How I always opened her fridge and freezer just to see what she had available or if the ice box needed seeing to. How I called her each week just to talk on the phone and see what was up. How funny Avonlea looked playing with Mamaw's glasses, how Mamaw laughed.
I think of the few unfinished things in my life that Mamaw missed: she won't get to see my new house, she won't get to meet the new baby when he comes around, and a few others. But mostly I think about how full her life was, how much love was there between us. All four of us grandkids loved her intensely, and her love was reciprocated. She was without a doubt the best grandmother I could have hoped for, and I miss her very much.
On Tuesday, Christmas Day, December 25, we all gathered at Mamaw's house that night as planned. We didn't get to eat her delicious cheese dip or sausage balls or barbecue, nor did anyone feel too much like eating, but we managed. We sat around the tree and looked through photo albums, each of us quietly reflecting in our own way. We passed out the gifts we had for one another. My heart lurched at opening the ones from Mamaw. Her absence was so noticed, and yet her presence was felt. Love never ends, even if this life is temporary.
So I grieve and miss my Mamaw, but I think only happy thoughts on her memory. I have the assurance that I will see her again, and until that day I'll go on living my life knowing that she has helped shape me into the person that I am today.
I love you, Mamaw.
On Saturday, December 22, we spent the entire day unloading boxes and putting stuff up and together. A long day, but not unpleasant. Many thanks to all those who were able to help.
On Sunday, December 23, we heard a sermon on the birth of Jesus. How His birth, His life, His death, and His resurrection--the Gospel, His gift of grace--is the ultimate present to unwrap on Christmas. How so much God loves the world that He extends to us grace and redemption when we don't deserve it. And that night, as every year on December 23, the entire extended family gathered together in Bremen to enjoy one each other's company. This has always been so as long as I can remember. Coming together as a family. It's a unique experience, as I come from a family where love is apparent and obvious, where people honestly care about one another, where the backbiting and gossiping is relatively minuscule and non-existent. My family may not have much in the realm of materialism, but we're over-abundant when it comes to love. That's how we are.
After the get-together was over we stopped by Mamaw's house to pick up Stella and to check on her. She left the gathering early. She hadn't been feeling to good. So we stopped and spent a good hour-and-a-half there, just talking and chiding Mamaw's stubbornness. She didn't want to spend Christmas in the hospital, she said. She'd go after Christmas. So I took her trash outside for her and Keisha offered to take some of the food home with us and prepare it so she wouldn't have to. Mostly we just sat around and talked and watched Avonlea play with Mamaw's water bottle and eyeglasses. Hilarious stuff, really.
Mom spent the night with Mamaw and we left to go to our new home.
At 3:54am on December 24, Mom called and told me that Mamaw didn't have a pulse. She passed away not long after.
On Monday, December 24, we went to the funeral home and went through all the routine stuff. Questions, answers, coffin room. We were all stunned. Christmas at Keisha's grandmothers that night to try normalcy, but my heart and mind were elsewhere. All I can think about is how fulfilled my relationship was with Mamaw, how much I loved her and how much she loved me. I spent the formative years of my life living with Mamaw, and my relationship was incredibly deep. Many nights I spent down her house and she'd wake up early to take me and Jake home before going to work. How I always opened her fridge and freezer just to see what she had available or if the ice box needed seeing to. How I called her each week just to talk on the phone and see what was up. How funny Avonlea looked playing with Mamaw's glasses, how Mamaw laughed.
I think of the few unfinished things in my life that Mamaw missed: she won't get to see my new house, she won't get to meet the new baby when he comes around, and a few others. But mostly I think about how full her life was, how much love was there between us. All four of us grandkids loved her intensely, and her love was reciprocated. She was without a doubt the best grandmother I could have hoped for, and I miss her very much.
On Tuesday, Christmas Day, December 25, we all gathered at Mamaw's house that night as planned. We didn't get to eat her delicious cheese dip or sausage balls or barbecue, nor did anyone feel too much like eating, but we managed. We sat around the tree and looked through photo albums, each of us quietly reflecting in our own way. We passed out the gifts we had for one another. My heart lurched at opening the ones from Mamaw. Her absence was so noticed, and yet her presence was felt. Love never ends, even if this life is temporary.
So I grieve and miss my Mamaw, but I think only happy thoughts on her memory. I have the assurance that I will see her again, and until that day I'll go on living my life knowing that she has helped shape me into the person that I am today.
I love you, Mamaw.
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
The Return of the Native Son
And lo, the son turned his face again upon his jilted blog and found favor with her, for she was pleasing unto him. And the son mused at his absence and how to proceed with his estranged blog and at his superfluous use of the conjunction “and” and he thought it was wonderful.
“A month has passed since last we met,” spoke the son, tenuous, like a child speaking to a mighty gorilla. “How shall we proceed?”
The blog—she has been anthropomorphic all along, has she not?—stared back at the son, blinking once per second with the soul-crushing gaze of a blank cursor.
“I thought so,” said the son, sighing a sigh beyond his twenty-six years. “The problem is that I’m not the person I used to be. I’ve changed, see. What we had was nice, but it just doesn’t exist anymore, y’know?”
The cursor blinked-blinked-blinked.
“Don’t look at me like that. You know I hate it when you do that.”
He might as well have been talking to a deaf and blind gorilla with cotton balls in its nostrils for all the good it did him.
“Fine. What do you want from me? You want me to tell you about my new job? Is that it? You already know how much I’m loving it, how I get to help the environment by polluting her in controlled quantities. It’s thankless and I’m hated by the people in production, but that’s environmental, right?” The son laughed a not quite sardonic chuckle. The great-and-terrible eye blinked-blinked-blinked. “Or would you rather me tell you all about the housing situation? Stewartland has been under a contract to sell for three weeks and she’s scheduled to close two days after the Ides of December. We’ve been frustrated waiting on the buyers to get an appraisal—which still hasn’t been ordered, by the way—because the house we’re moving into—currently unnamed—is all contingent upon our successful sell of Stewartland. It’s a crazy and mind-numbing process, especially with Christmas approaching and the very likely possibility that we’ll be spending the holidays in transition, wonderful for Keisha and Avonlea’s holiday spirits, I’m sure.” He couldn’t help but let the cynicism in this time. Blink-blink-blink.
The son made a fist. “I could delete you, you know? It’s not like I would miss you.” And he thought seriously about it. “It would be… easy.” Blink-blink-blink.
The son collapsed into a crumpled and tired form. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just, well, I’ve not forgotten you, but I don’t have the time to carry on like we used to. We’re not just some bumbling teens any more. I have a career and a wife and a seventeen-month-old and a son on the way and a million, billion other things and honestly you’re just not that high up in the priority list. But it’s not just you, either. Life is a crazy, wonderful, beautiful thing, too short by far. The time we spent together, it was good. But let’s face it, that was in the past. If you want to still be a part of my life, then you’re going to have to accept my decision. I’ll still visit you from time to time, if only for journaling. That is, after all, one of your primary purposes. I’m sure I’ll still even give you reviews from time to time, too. It’s not like I’m tying you to a tree, coating you in honey, and leaving you in the jungle for a gorilla to find. It’s more like I’m locking you in the basement and turning out the lights, but I’ll come down there from time to time just to check on you. That’s not so bad, right?”
Her eye reminded him of Sauron’s and he shivered.
“Right?” he asked again, but he already knew her answer.
“Happy Thanksgiving,” he said with an appropriate adverb applied to his tone. “Until next time.”
“A month has passed since last we met,” spoke the son, tenuous, like a child speaking to a mighty gorilla. “How shall we proceed?”
The blog—she has been anthropomorphic all along, has she not?—stared back at the son, blinking once per second with the soul-crushing gaze of a blank cursor.
“I thought so,” said the son, sighing a sigh beyond his twenty-six years. “The problem is that I’m not the person I used to be. I’ve changed, see. What we had was nice, but it just doesn’t exist anymore, y’know?”
The cursor blinked-blinked-blinked.
“Don’t look at me like that. You know I hate it when you do that.”
He might as well have been talking to a deaf and blind gorilla with cotton balls in its nostrils for all the good it did him.
“Fine. What do you want from me? You want me to tell you about my new job? Is that it? You already know how much I’m loving it, how I get to help the environment by polluting her in controlled quantities. It’s thankless and I’m hated by the people in production, but that’s environmental, right?” The son laughed a not quite sardonic chuckle. The great-and-terrible eye blinked-blinked-blinked. “Or would you rather me tell you all about the housing situation? Stewartland has been under a contract to sell for three weeks and she’s scheduled to close two days after the Ides of December. We’ve been frustrated waiting on the buyers to get an appraisal—which still hasn’t been ordered, by the way—because the house we’re moving into—currently unnamed—is all contingent upon our successful sell of Stewartland. It’s a crazy and mind-numbing process, especially with Christmas approaching and the very likely possibility that we’ll be spending the holidays in transition, wonderful for Keisha and Avonlea’s holiday spirits, I’m sure.” He couldn’t help but let the cynicism in this time. Blink-blink-blink.
The son made a fist. “I could delete you, you know? It’s not like I would miss you.” And he thought seriously about it. “It would be… easy.” Blink-blink-blink.
The son collapsed into a crumpled and tired form. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just, well, I’ve not forgotten you, but I don’t have the time to carry on like we used to. We’re not just some bumbling teens any more. I have a career and a wife and a seventeen-month-old and a son on the way and a million, billion other things and honestly you’re just not that high up in the priority list. But it’s not just you, either. Life is a crazy, wonderful, beautiful thing, too short by far. The time we spent together, it was good. But let’s face it, that was in the past. If you want to still be a part of my life, then you’re going to have to accept my decision. I’ll still visit you from time to time, if only for journaling. That is, after all, one of your primary purposes. I’m sure I’ll still even give you reviews from time to time, too. It’s not like I’m tying you to a tree, coating you in honey, and leaving you in the jungle for a gorilla to find. It’s more like I’m locking you in the basement and turning out the lights, but I’ll come down there from time to time just to check on you. That’s not so bad, right?”
Her eye reminded him of Sauron’s and he shivered.
“Right?” he asked again, but he already knew her answer.
“Happy Thanksgiving,” he said with an appropriate adverb applied to his tone. “Until next time.”
Friday, October 12, 2012
On Cemeteries
Share a memory of a cemetery, Carl prompted. Okay then...
What particular memory comes to mind when thinking about graveyards? No singular one, at least none more prominent than another. I see myself standing at the top of the dangerous hill where Gish Cemetery is located, overpopulated and old. I remember the cold October day of just a year ago, when the ground was opened and my absent father was placed therein for keeping. I remember the same cemetery welcoming in a middle aged Marine, twenty-one guns and all. I remember a different place—Bethlehem Cemetery—some years earlier, Keisha’s dad, tears, shock, grief. In the small towns, a funeral is often a community involvement.
But not all memories are of tragedies and passings. I spent many summers helping my uncle keep a massive cemetery cleaned. My job was always weed-eating around the headstones, a painstaking task, stooping over at every stone and picking up the artificial flowers, swinging in the weed-eater, replacing the flowers, and repeat times a million. Long into the gloaming we’d work, my uncle on the mower, my brother and I with weed-eaters. Good money, though.
Or the time Keisha and I stopped on the side of the road to go off into the woods and find a supposedly very old cemetery. We walked through the woods, curious explorers. We found the place, segregated from the encroaching woods by a fence and nothing more. We spent some time contemplating the graves, searching out the oldest dates and obscurest names, all the while freaking ourselves out more and more. It wasn’t t
Or the place out way back in the woods behind the projects. We’d ride our bikes all throughout the town as teens, leaving no lands unexplored. An abandoned and demolished house, one like you’d imagine a witches hut, a smattering of broken tombstones around the place.
Or the seashell topped graves, sunken deep into the ground, cracked with fissures like canyons. To our young eyes we imagined we were seeing bones inside those cracks.
Or the first time I saw solar powered lights glowing at night along Highway 181, eldritch and sinister. My heart took a fright to that one, and I still feel a spook whenever I see the eerie lights at night. They’re like modern day will-o’-the wisps.
There’s no single memory of a cemetery that comes readily to mind for me. Most prominently in my mind is Gish Cemetery, the one closest to my old stomping grounds. It’s where I figured I’d end up, at least physically, but now I’m doubtful of that one. But who knows. I’m a proponent for cremation, though Keisha informs me every time I bring that up that if I go first that’s not going to happen. Alas…
What particular memory comes to mind when thinking about graveyards? No singular one, at least none more prominent than another. I see myself standing at the top of the dangerous hill where Gish Cemetery is located, overpopulated and old. I remember the cold October day of just a year ago, when the ground was opened and my absent father was placed therein for keeping. I remember the same cemetery welcoming in a middle aged Marine, twenty-one guns and all. I remember a different place—Bethlehem Cemetery—some years earlier, Keisha’s dad, tears, shock, grief. In the small towns, a funeral is often a community involvement.
But not all memories are of tragedies and passings. I spent many summers helping my uncle keep a massive cemetery cleaned. My job was always weed-eating around the headstones, a painstaking task, stooping over at every stone and picking up the artificial flowers, swinging in the weed-eater, replacing the flowers, and repeat times a million. Long into the gloaming we’d work, my uncle on the mower, my brother and I with weed-eaters. Good money, though.
Or the time Keisha and I stopped on the side of the road to go off into the woods and find a supposedly very old cemetery. We walked through the woods, curious explorers. We found the place, segregated from the encroaching woods by a fence and nothing more. We spent some time contemplating the graves, searching out the oldest dates and obscurest names, all the while freaking ourselves out more and more. It wasn’t t
Or the place out way back in the woods behind the projects. We’d ride our bikes all throughout the town as teens, leaving no lands unexplored. An abandoned and demolished house, one like you’d imagine a witches hut, a smattering of broken tombstones around the place.
Or the seashell topped graves, sunken deep into the ground, cracked with fissures like canyons. To our young eyes we imagined we were seeing bones inside those cracks.
Or the first time I saw solar powered lights glowing at night along Highway 181, eldritch and sinister. My heart took a fright to that one, and I still feel a spook whenever I see the eerie lights at night. They’re like modern day will-o’-the wisps.
There’s no single memory of a cemetery that comes readily to mind for me. Most prominently in my mind is Gish Cemetery, the one closest to my old stomping grounds. It’s where I figured I’d end up, at least physically, but now I’m doubtful of that one. But who knows. I’m a proponent for cremation, though Keisha informs me every time I bring that up that if I go first that’s not going to happen. Alas…
Tuesday, October 09, 2012
It's A Boy!
That thing that I've vaguely hinted at a time or two, yeah, Keisha's got a baby growing inside her womb again. Numero Dos. Been quickening life for a while now, but I've put off announcing it until we found out the sex. Turns out that baby is a boy, which is most excellent and kind of what we were hoping for. I mean, a girl would've been fine and all, but I just wanted Avonlea to be my only girl for the time being.
Needless to say, Keisha and I are both super very muy excited. More information as I get it.
Anyway, not much time really, just wanted to get that out there.
Oh, and if you're just itching for a fascinating post that my buddy Lance put up--titled "Why I Never Try to be a Dark Person"--check it out. The comments are rather philosophic, but very interesting. It's all about whether Darkness really does exist or not.
Needless to say, Keisha and I are both super very muy excited. More information as I get it.
Anyway, not much time really, just wanted to get that out there.
Oh, and if you're just itching for a fascinating post that my buddy Lance put up--titled "Why I Never Try to be a Dark Person"--check it out. The comments are rather philosophic, but very interesting. It's all about whether Darkness really does exist or not.
Monday, October 01, 2012
On A Cold and Rainy October Night
It's been far too long since I've blogged. It's not that I stopped, because I still blog all the time, though these are just theoretical and intangible blog posts that exist solely in my psyche. I miss the catharsis that comes from just sitting down at my computer and punching out a few lines of text and clicking that "Publish" button atop the GUI, sending the post out into the ether for all to see.
It's rained all day, this beloved October One. A cold rain. A miserable rain under the right conditions. I stood out in the wind and the rain for much of the day, wearing two waterproof jackets and talking with a professional geologist. There were some contractors doing some core samples, but the rain and the thunder inhibited progress. I stood in the weather and thought about how happy I am with my new job, how fulfilling it is to actually do something that I enjoy. I spent the morning collecting water samples from our main effluent spot, dipping an instrument into the creak and pouring water into acid filled containers. Nitric acid, Sulfuric acid, and Sodium Hydroxide. They preserve something in the water to allow the lab to test properly. Time is important, that is, how long it takes for the sample to get to the lab and get tested. Water temperature is also vital.
I'm learning a lot about environmental engineering and I'm very much enjoying it.
I'm also progressing through several books at the current moment, still whittling away on my 2012 Manifesto. Reading life is good.
Don't forget to check out the RIP VII review website for all your up-to-date book reviews of RIP themed books.
Still running, though less. Did a three mile run the other day. Felt wonderful. About died.
Catching up on Season 4 of Fringe. I happened to win Season 4 on blu-ray thanks to a local tv stations contest. Unexpected yet cool. I really really like this show. And I'm trying to stomach Revolution, but I'm not holding my breath.
And there's still that undisclosed bit of information that I alluded to with my last "general update" style post. I've not forgotten.
Life is wonderful. God is great. I am blessed.
It's rained all day, this beloved October One. A cold rain. A miserable rain under the right conditions. I stood out in the wind and the rain for much of the day, wearing two waterproof jackets and talking with a professional geologist. There were some contractors doing some core samples, but the rain and the thunder inhibited progress. I stood in the weather and thought about how happy I am with my new job, how fulfilling it is to actually do something that I enjoy. I spent the morning collecting water samples from our main effluent spot, dipping an instrument into the creak and pouring water into acid filled containers. Nitric acid, Sulfuric acid, and Sodium Hydroxide. They preserve something in the water to allow the lab to test properly. Time is important, that is, how long it takes for the sample to get to the lab and get tested. Water temperature is also vital.
I'm learning a lot about environmental engineering and I'm very much enjoying it.
I'm also progressing through several books at the current moment, still whittling away on my 2012 Manifesto. Reading life is good.
Don't forget to check out the RIP VII review website for all your up-to-date book reviews of RIP themed books.
Still running, though less. Did a three mile run the other day. Felt wonderful. About died.
Catching up on Season 4 of Fringe. I happened to win Season 4 on blu-ray thanks to a local tv stations contest. Unexpected yet cool. I really really like this show. And I'm trying to stomach Revolution, but I'm not holding my breath.
And there's still that undisclosed bit of information that I alluded to with my last "general update" style post. I've not forgotten.
Life is wonderful. God is great. I am blessed.
Wednesday, August 08, 2012
About My New Job
I am working for a large, international aluminum product manufacturing plant, where we make rolled aluminum coils and sell them out to people that want to customize the stuff. This company is not called Manuel's Mousepad Emporium (MME), but that's what I'm calling it so as to give myself one level of anonymity. I am in the Health, Safety & Environmental department, where we have two staff environmental engineers and a handful of safety specialists. My title is, officially, Environmental Compliance Technician. I'm pretty sure that that is the most prestigious sounding job title I've ever had.
So what do I do? To answer that would require a small understanding of the rolled product manufacturing facility itself and how the processes work. In extreme brevity, MME buys recycled aluminum and melts it down to a certain level. This molten aluminum goes through a casthouse until eventually it is poured into molds and cast as large (~22 feet long) ingots. The ingots make their way through the mills, getting chopped and scalped and cut along the way. Eventually they go through a machine that smashes the ingot down over and over, kind of like rolling a piece of clay in your hand until it is a long and thin snake, except the aluminum stays rectangular in shape and not round. One the aluminum is flattened into a sheet it is then rolled up into a coil (~20,000 lbs.) and hauled off on a crate to sit and await shipping. That's the short version.
MME also does customized sheets with embossed designs. There's also a paint process if customers want colored aluminum (and many of them do).
So what do I do? I basically make sure that all the water that we're pushing out of the property is within the acceptable limits for a variety of things (coliform, chlorine, pH, oil & grease, etc.) To do this requires a daily visible inspection of our main outfall and the waste water treatment outfall. In addition to the regulations surrounding a WWTP, MME also has its own drinking water supply. I am responsible for all the routine inspections of these areas.
Next I work with the waste side of environmental engineering. There are a few hazardous byproducts left over and I have to make sure that they are properly labeled and disposed of correctly. Non-hazardous and universal waste regulations also fall into this realm. MME doesn't generate a lot of varieties hazardous waste, most of it being from paints and solvents.
The last piece of environmental that I deal with is the air side. Air regulations are some of the most difficult things to understand and regulate. I have several binders in my office on Air Regulations due to the Clean Air Act from the EPA and I have wracked my mind over the billion+ acronyms and numbers. There's a lot of stuff that I don't understand right now, but eventually I'm going to have to know everything that pertains to the aluminum industry, or at least a portion of it. I've not really got into this much yet, but it's coming so very soon.
The EPA has the authority to wage some monstrous fines on violations, so I'm employed to do the routine checks (daily, weekly, monthly, quarterly, etc.) to make sure that we catch any problems and get them corrected before anything major happens. It's a job that keeps me away from my desk for much of the day, and I'm loving it. The casthouses are awesome, but I'll have to get into those again some other day.
Until then, I must retire. I get up earlier now and I have an incredible amount of things going on that I can't disclose currently. Rest assured, though, that I have not forgotten this blog or the Readers of it. Perchance once Stewartland is out of my hands things'll swing back closer to normalcy. Here's to hoping.
So what do I do? To answer that would require a small understanding of the rolled product manufacturing facility itself and how the processes work. In extreme brevity, MME buys recycled aluminum and melts it down to a certain level. This molten aluminum goes through a casthouse until eventually it is poured into molds and cast as large (~22 feet long) ingots. The ingots make their way through the mills, getting chopped and scalped and cut along the way. Eventually they go through a machine that smashes the ingot down over and over, kind of like rolling a piece of clay in your hand until it is a long and thin snake, except the aluminum stays rectangular in shape and not round. One the aluminum is flattened into a sheet it is then rolled up into a coil (~20,000 lbs.) and hauled off on a crate to sit and await shipping. That's the short version.
MME also does customized sheets with embossed designs. There's also a paint process if customers want colored aluminum (and many of them do).
So what do I do? I basically make sure that all the water that we're pushing out of the property is within the acceptable limits for a variety of things (coliform, chlorine, pH, oil & grease, etc.) To do this requires a daily visible inspection of our main outfall and the waste water treatment outfall. In addition to the regulations surrounding a WWTP, MME also has its own drinking water supply. I am responsible for all the routine inspections of these areas.
Next I work with the waste side of environmental engineering. There are a few hazardous byproducts left over and I have to make sure that they are properly labeled and disposed of correctly. Non-hazardous and universal waste regulations also fall into this realm. MME doesn't generate a lot of varieties hazardous waste, most of it being from paints and solvents.
The last piece of environmental that I deal with is the air side. Air regulations are some of the most difficult things to understand and regulate. I have several binders in my office on Air Regulations due to the Clean Air Act from the EPA and I have wracked my mind over the billion+ acronyms and numbers. There's a lot of stuff that I don't understand right now, but eventually I'm going to have to know everything that pertains to the aluminum industry, or at least a portion of it. I've not really got into this much yet, but it's coming so very soon.
The EPA has the authority to wage some monstrous fines on violations, so I'm employed to do the routine checks (daily, weekly, monthly, quarterly, etc.) to make sure that we catch any problems and get them corrected before anything major happens. It's a job that keeps me away from my desk for much of the day, and I'm loving it. The casthouses are awesome, but I'll have to get into those again some other day.
Until then, I must retire. I get up earlier now and I have an incredible amount of things going on that I can't disclose currently. Rest assured, though, that I have not forgotten this blog or the Readers of it. Perchance once Stewartland is out of my hands things'll swing back closer to normalcy. Here's to hoping.
Monday, July 23, 2012
And Just Like That...
...Vacation ends. Well, if you want to call it a vacation. Technically we didn't vacate our beloved and despised Stewartland for sandy beaches or wooded vales. No, we stayed home and worked our butts off. As I mentioned in a blog post a few moons back, we're trying to get Stewartland on the market. To achieve this amazing feat we must first deep clean and sponge bathe the house. This goes hand in hand with one of our 2012 goals: to rid ourselves of material goods, and we spent the majority of the week cleaning and weeding and boxing and tossing. It was a busy week, but we got a lot finished.
...I started my new job today. Technically I didn't really do anything other than orientate myself with the Manuel's Mousepad Emporium (MME). I'll continue to be orientated all week, going through safety and policy and whatnot. But after going through my benefit package today, I'm extremely excited at how much God has blessed me. My paycheck will be a little less than I have been making, but only slightly, and the benefits are so offsetting that it's negligible.
...I started exercising and getting healthy. Technically I started a month ago. I'd been feeling the faint stirrings in my ticker box to do so, but Carl's post on June 11--"(It was) Time for a Change"--gave me the final nudge into that not-so-gentle good morning. (He also inspired a ton of others to shape up and live healthier, and those of us joined an email support group. You should definitely read his post.) Starting just a day or two later I began getting up an hour earlier than I normally did, right around 5:30am. I started educating myself on eating healthier. I took initiative. I ran 2-3 miles every other day or so. I've stopped with Doritos. And since then I've definitely gotten* much healthier. It's a wonderful feeling that I'll probably elaborate on sometime in the future.
...Blogging stalled. Literally. Rememorandom takes the back burner while life is in full throttle, and life is well into full throttle. I very much enjoy blogging and the community, but there's just too danged much going on to have the time to do it all right now. I'll continue to post intermittently until things calm down. Winter is coming, after all.
-----
*this is one of my least favorite words in all of English. But the Dude abides.
...I started my new job today. Technically I didn't really do anything other than orientate myself with the Manuel's Mousepad Emporium (MME). I'll continue to be orientated all week, going through safety and policy and whatnot. But after going through my benefit package today, I'm extremely excited at how much God has blessed me. My paycheck will be a little less than I have been making, but only slightly, and the benefits are so offsetting that it's negligible.
...I started exercising and getting healthy. Technically I started a month ago. I'd been feeling the faint stirrings in my ticker box to do so, but Carl's post on June 11--"(It was) Time for a Change"--gave me the final nudge into that not-so-gentle good morning. (He also inspired a ton of others to shape up and live healthier, and those of us joined an email support group. You should definitely read his post.) Starting just a day or two later I began getting up an hour earlier than I normally did, right around 5:30am. I started educating myself on eating healthier. I took initiative. I ran 2-3 miles every other day or so. I've stopped with Doritos. And since then I've definitely gotten* much healthier. It's a wonderful feeling that I'll probably elaborate on sometime in the future.
...Blogging stalled. Literally. Rememorandom takes the back burner while life is in full throttle, and life is well into full throttle. I very much enjoy blogging and the community, but there's just too danged much going on to have the time to do it all right now. I'll continue to post intermittently until things calm down. Winter is coming, after all.
-----
*this is one of my least favorite words in all of English. But the Dude abides.
Thursday, July 05, 2012
I GOT A JOB, or A Polite Notice of Resignation
To all of you that have been praying for my job situation, I would like to let you know that God has provided me with an opportunity that went beyond my hopes. The job search has been slow and stressful and extremely down-putting, but through the many months I have never doubted. My hopes were to stay in the relatively same area that I'm at, but if I had to move I had to move. As it turns out, God allowed us to stay in the relatively same area, thus answering another prayer.
Today, officially, I handed in my two week notice. It was awkward and I had no idea what to say as I handed it to my boss. I explained how I'd been looking ever since the kerfuffle about late paychecks and reduced work weeks. He understood and wished me good luck.
So, after three years and two months at the Mexican Lightbulb Company* as a Highway Drainage Engineer, I am hanging up my, um, keyboard. My last day of employment will be Thursday, July 19.
Where am I going? My new company is an aluminum manufacturing plant located a simple half-hour drive from Stewartland. There I will take on the mantle of Environmental Technician, where I will work extensively and exhaustively at reducing pollution. I will be involved in air, water, soil, and all other facets of environmental engineering. The work will be much more physical than what I've been accustomed to these past three years, but I am very much looking forward to that.
It is a bit sad that I'm no longer going to be a practicing engineer. Even so, this technician position is muy rewarding, as I will be working hand-in-hand with the environmental engineers at the plant. One of them is eligible to retire, and I was practically told (twice) in my interview that I would easily be able to step up to the environmental engineer position in the future. What excites me about the technician is what I said in my interview: I want to actually see how things come together and work from the ground up, and the technician position is perfect for that.
I'm sure there will be more to come in the future about my new place of work, but for now I just wanted to get the word out. Now I need to come up with another catchy fake name that'll make a good acronym.
Once again, thanks to all of you that prayed.
--
*Obviously my current employer is not actually named the Mexican Lightbulb Company, though that would be pretty sweet. Actually my current employer is named after the three founders of the company. One of them (and I'm not yanking any chains here) is Johnny Depp's grandfather. Johnny Depp is from Owensboro, KY, and his grandad helped give me my job. So that's that.
Today, officially, I handed in my two week notice. It was awkward and I had no idea what to say as I handed it to my boss. I explained how I'd been looking ever since the kerfuffle about late paychecks and reduced work weeks. He understood and wished me good luck.
So, after three years and two months at the Mexican Lightbulb Company* as a Highway Drainage Engineer, I am hanging up my, um, keyboard. My last day of employment will be Thursday, July 19.
Where am I going? My new company is an aluminum manufacturing plant located a simple half-hour drive from Stewartland. There I will take on the mantle of Environmental Technician, where I will work extensively and exhaustively at reducing pollution. I will be involved in air, water, soil, and all other facets of environmental engineering. The work will be much more physical than what I've been accustomed to these past three years, but I am very much looking forward to that.
It is a bit sad that I'm no longer going to be a practicing engineer. Even so, this technician position is muy rewarding, as I will be working hand-in-hand with the environmental engineers at the plant. One of them is eligible to retire, and I was practically told (twice) in my interview that I would easily be able to step up to the environmental engineer position in the future. What excites me about the technician is what I said in my interview: I want to actually see how things come together and work from the ground up, and the technician position is perfect for that.
I'm sure there will be more to come in the future about my new place of work, but for now I just wanted to get the word out. Now I need to come up with another catchy fake name that'll make a good acronym.
Once again, thanks to all of you that prayed.
--
*Obviously my current employer is not actually named the Mexican Lightbulb Company, though that would be pretty sweet. Actually my current employer is named after the three founders of the company. One of them (and I'm not yanking any chains here) is Johnny Depp's grandfather. Johnny Depp is from Owensboro, KY, and his grandad helped give me my job. So that's that.
Tuesday, May 08, 2012
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April was not a cruel month to Rememorandom, despite what Mr. Eliot may think. In fact, by my participating in the AtoZ Challenge, my humble weblog hit a growth spurt, both in output and input. I've garnered a few new Followers, fine folks that I hope continue to read my meager ramblings, and I've found a few new blogs that I'm following as well.
I was happy with the short story I wrote during the second week, starting with H and ending on M. It had been a while since I'd written a story, let alone finished one, and I'm glad to have had the impetus to write something. To those of you that read it, many thanks.
It should have been clear to anyone reading that faith is an integral part of my being, as many of my posts dealt with "spiritual things," from Jesus to the Church to the many blessings I have in my life. I am not ashamed of the gospel, and I will never be. It was not my aim to cause anyone offense, but it was my aim to proclaim the Truth that God has revealed in the Bible and in my life. I will not apologize for the Truth. Believe me, it's just as offensive to me as it is to anyone else. I'm still human, still a sinner, only I'm relying on the promises of the Eternal One and His Word to keep me in line.
The AtoZ Challenge was a fun way to blog for a month, and I enjoyed reading through many of the different blogs out there that signed up. There was no way that I was going to visit all of the blogs that participated (over 2000!), but I found some gems from the few I did. In particular, it was a nice happenstance to click on Watershed Moments, a blog from a Canadian hydrologist with a specialty in snow hydrology. Fascinating. Another blog, Geeky Daddy, had a STAR WARS theme, and it's always a pleasure to find new geeky friends. The last month also rekindled an old friendship and inspired him to begin blogging a bit more frequently. Check out Jordan's blog at Common Sense to Live By for a unique voice that's quasi-politically focused. I tend to shy away from politics (I'm a registered Independent!), but it's nice hearing fair-minded opinions.
A special thanks to longtime Rememorandom follower David Wag, who blogs over at My Little Corner of the World. If not for him, I never would have started this crazy journey.
Finally, to all the new Followers out there, thank you very much for stopping by. It's an honor to have people that are interested in what I have to say. What's more, it's an awesome wonder to be a part of a community of perfect strangers that becomes something more than just random characters on a screen. I've made many e-friendships, so to speak, and it's this community within the blogosphere that consistently amazes me. I do hope you all continue to follow along here, but if not, I hope our time together was at least meaningful. Or entertaining. Or bizarre...
I was happy with the short story I wrote during the second week, starting with H and ending on M. It had been a while since I'd written a story, let alone finished one, and I'm glad to have had the impetus to write something. To those of you that read it, many thanks.
It should have been clear to anyone reading that faith is an integral part of my being, as many of my posts dealt with "spiritual things," from Jesus to the Church to the many blessings I have in my life. I am not ashamed of the gospel, and I will never be. It was not my aim to cause anyone offense, but it was my aim to proclaim the Truth that God has revealed in the Bible and in my life. I will not apologize for the Truth. Believe me, it's just as offensive to me as it is to anyone else. I'm still human, still a sinner, only I'm relying on the promises of the Eternal One and His Word to keep me in line.
The AtoZ Challenge was a fun way to blog for a month, and I enjoyed reading through many of the different blogs out there that signed up. There was no way that I was going to visit all of the blogs that participated (over 2000!), but I found some gems from the few I did. In particular, it was a nice happenstance to click on Watershed Moments, a blog from a Canadian hydrologist with a specialty in snow hydrology. Fascinating. Another blog, Geeky Daddy, had a STAR WARS theme, and it's always a pleasure to find new geeky friends. The last month also rekindled an old friendship and inspired him to begin blogging a bit more frequently. Check out Jordan's blog at Common Sense to Live By for a unique voice that's quasi-politically focused. I tend to shy away from politics (I'm a registered Independent!), but it's nice hearing fair-minded opinions.
A special thanks to longtime Rememorandom follower David Wag, who blogs over at My Little Corner of the World. If not for him, I never would have started this crazy journey.
Finally, to all the new Followers out there, thank you very much for stopping by. It's an honor to have people that are interested in what I have to say. What's more, it's an awesome wonder to be a part of a community of perfect strangers that becomes something more than just random characters on a screen. I've made many e-friendships, so to speak, and it's this community within the blogosphere that consistently amazes me. I do hope you all continue to follow along here, but if not, I hope our time together was at least meaningful. Or entertaining. Or bizarre...
Monday, April 30, 2012
Zeniths
I'm twenty-six. I'm celebrating my five year anniversary in just a few days (Cinco de Mayo) by taking a much needed vacation to Asheville, North Carolina, where I hope to enjoy some rest and some fun times with Keisha and Avonlea. Keisha and I visited Asheville for our honeymoon, and it only seems fitting to return now.
I'm not much on sentimentality, at least for most things. I prefer to live in the Now and look ahead to the Later. The Past is an ever fading whisper that lives only in the mind and hearts of us all. Holding onto childhood trinkets and slips of paper seems mostly pointless to me. But now that Avonlea is here, I'm finding that there are some things that I want to keep. Why? I can't say for certain. Perhaps it's to help her understand a part of the Story that is her life.
Today is the last day of the A to Z challenge. I've pretty much winged most of these posts off the cuff, with little foresight and no real plan of action. For today I've decided to list (in no order) some of the zeniths of my life, some of those times I can look back and see myself on the top of the mountain, so to speak. To be honest, it's harder than it sounds. I've lived a blessed and happy life. I consider much of my life to be in the upper elevations of the mountains. Anyway, below are three major highlights.
1. My salvation from sin and hell by Jesus happened when I was eleven. I didn't know exactly what that meant and how to apply that to my life for several more years, but it was then when the Spirit first called to me and I responded in earnest.
2. Keisha married me. The wedding was a blur and the church was packed. We had several friends and family come in, some even foregoing the Kentucky Derby (which was on 5/5/07) to celebrate our nuptials. I played hangman with my groomsmen in a Sunday School room while waiting for the event to start. We asked one of the pastors to present the Gospel during our wedding, as we knew that this was one of the only times several people in attendance would step inside a church. I had a Darth Vaders shaped and colored groom's cake, though I didn't get to come in to the "Imperial March" as I'd hoped. Five years later and I'm more in love now than I was then.
3. Avonlea Brynn Stewart came into this world in a rush of emergency due to Keisha's soaring blood pressure and loss of fluid. We went to a regular check-up and two hours later I was in scrubs and brain addled. I remember it all very clearly. I paced back-and-forth outside the operating room, staring at myself in the small mirror, heart pounding, my breath fogging my glasses beneath the hospital scrubs I had on. I was rushed inside, where I took Keisha's hand in mind and waited. Soon a baby cried and Daddy followed suit. I had a daughter.
I could talk about the euphoria that follows a challenging game of tennis that I happen to win. I could bring up the day I graduated college with my engineering degree. There are so many more things in my life that are high points that I'm stunned thinking about them. I'm incredibly blessed. Likewise, there are plenty of vales and caverns between the peaks, things that have grieved me to no end, and I'm just as stunned thinking about those.
I'm twenty-six years old and I am the person I am today because of the zeniths and voids I've lived through. I like to think of my life as a slow rising slope, ever-moving upward and to greater heights. There are interruptions and downslopes, some severe, but they are not enough to sway the line downward. By myself I would definitely be approaching uncharted depths, but thankfully I am not by myself. No, I have the constant presence of the Spirit within me, guiding me. I have the loving arms of a wife to encourage and help me whenever I need her. I have the undeniable and unconditional love of a daughter that sees me as her Daddy. I have friends and family that are united by something stronger than blood. I have a community that challenges and inspires me. I'm zenith living, and I praise God because of His manifold blessings on me. Even when I cannot understand how He's working in certain situations, I know that He is, and that's good enough for me.
I'm not much on sentimentality, at least for most things. I prefer to live in the Now and look ahead to the Later. The Past is an ever fading whisper that lives only in the mind and hearts of us all. Holding onto childhood trinkets and slips of paper seems mostly pointless to me. But now that Avonlea is here, I'm finding that there are some things that I want to keep. Why? I can't say for certain. Perhaps it's to help her understand a part of the Story that is her life.
Today is the last day of the A to Z challenge. I've pretty much winged most of these posts off the cuff, with little foresight and no real plan of action. For today I've decided to list (in no order) some of the zeniths of my life, some of those times I can look back and see myself on the top of the mountain, so to speak. To be honest, it's harder than it sounds. I've lived a blessed and happy life. I consider much of my life to be in the upper elevations of the mountains. Anyway, below are three major highlights.
1. My salvation from sin and hell by Jesus happened when I was eleven. I didn't know exactly what that meant and how to apply that to my life for several more years, but it was then when the Spirit first called to me and I responded in earnest.
2. Keisha married me. The wedding was a blur and the church was packed. We had several friends and family come in, some even foregoing the Kentucky Derby (which was on 5/5/07) to celebrate our nuptials. I played hangman with my groomsmen in a Sunday School room while waiting for the event to start. We asked one of the pastors to present the Gospel during our wedding, as we knew that this was one of the only times several people in attendance would step inside a church. I had a Darth Vaders shaped and colored groom's cake, though I didn't get to come in to the "Imperial March" as I'd hoped. Five years later and I'm more in love now than I was then.
3. Avonlea Brynn Stewart came into this world in a rush of emergency due to Keisha's soaring blood pressure and loss of fluid. We went to a regular check-up and two hours later I was in scrubs and brain addled. I remember it all very clearly. I paced back-and-forth outside the operating room, staring at myself in the small mirror, heart pounding, my breath fogging my glasses beneath the hospital scrubs I had on. I was rushed inside, where I took Keisha's hand in mind and waited. Soon a baby cried and Daddy followed suit. I had a daughter.
I could talk about the euphoria that follows a challenging game of tennis that I happen to win. I could bring up the day I graduated college with my engineering degree. There are so many more things in my life that are high points that I'm stunned thinking about them. I'm incredibly blessed. Likewise, there are plenty of vales and caverns between the peaks, things that have grieved me to no end, and I'm just as stunned thinking about those.
I'm twenty-six years old and I am the person I am today because of the zeniths and voids I've lived through. I like to think of my life as a slow rising slope, ever-moving upward and to greater heights. There are interruptions and downslopes, some severe, but they are not enough to sway the line downward. By myself I would definitely be approaching uncharted depths, but thankfully I am not by myself. No, I have the constant presence of the Spirit within me, guiding me. I have the loving arms of a wife to encourage and help me whenever I need her. I have the undeniable and unconditional love of a daughter that sees me as her Daddy. I have friends and family that are united by something stronger than blood. I have a community that challenges and inspires me. I'm zenith living, and I praise God because of His manifold blessings on me. Even when I cannot understand how He's working in certain situations, I know that He is, and that's good enough for me.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Young Love
Once upon a time there lived a young dapper of a boy named Logan. His hair was the color of rust and his eyes an alarming blue-green, and all the strapping lasses swooned whene'er they saw him. But Logan was a simple lad, caring as much for the fairer sex as he did for a trip to the local tooth doctor. His heart was focused on the things all young lads hearts focus on: Star Wars, camping, the Allowed Woods, the creeks, and the Great Wilderness of Bremen.
The township of Bremen has always been an idyllic farming community. Farmers spend more time with tobacco, corn, and bean crops than they do with their own families. Twisty, curvy roads wind through the countryside, often just wide enough for two vehicles to meet. There are no stop lights, no bars, no shopping centers. No, there is one gas station and enough churches to house the people of Bremen eight times over.
It is no wonder, then, that our young hero would meet the girl who stole his heart in this tiny town. What's more, it is no wonder that red headed Logan would impact a young lass by the name of Keisha at such an early age. For you see, Keisha and Logan first met when they were but pups, under the watchful eye of a neighbor and a cousin. He, no more than six, and she, no more than four, were fated for love.
Through the years, Logan grew dorkier and dorkier while Keisha grew lovelier and lovelier. While he kept his eyes on other things, Keisha kept a place in her heart on him. When High School came around, Logan was a Junior, Keisha a Freshman. He still had little to no interest in girls. A chance meeting one day at the local library brought his attention sharply into focus. Rather bluntly, Keisha, stricken with an arrow from Cupid, approached Logan and asked him if he'd like to go to a school dance. Logan politely refused, but his heart began to change that very day. For the next year he thought of this girl and his refusal. He thought of how beautiful she was and how he knew deep in his heart that he wanted to be with her. But as dorkdom often does to people, Logan lacked the courage to say anything.
At the same time Logan's best mate, William, began fancying a certain young lass, a beautiful young girl by the name of Keisha. A kink in the plans, Keisha kept her eyes still on Logan, and Logan secretly kept his eyes on her. Through tact and patience, Keisha waited for Logan. College loomed ahead, and Logan knew that he had to confess his love for Keisha 'ere he left. He first told William, confessing his heart and his secret love, asking his pal's opinion and blessing. Kindly, William gave his approval, and Logan decided to make take the plunge.
It was early. Students were gathered in the cafeteria, chattering and eating breakfast. Logan's heart thumped and his mind raced. He stood and rushed to the table where Keisha sat, surrounded by girls. He unceremoniously plopped next to her and spoke in an unintelligible garble, asking her to attend the Winter's Ball if she were free. Astonished, Keisha said sure, though she easily could have refused him for his prior spurning. Relieved, Logan left in a whirlwind, leaving behind a table of talking girls.
That is just the beginning of the story of the couple known and Logan and Keisha. There is much left to be told.
The township of Bremen has always been an idyllic farming community. Farmers spend more time with tobacco, corn, and bean crops than they do with their own families. Twisty, curvy roads wind through the countryside, often just wide enough for two vehicles to meet. There are no stop lights, no bars, no shopping centers. No, there is one gas station and enough churches to house the people of Bremen eight times over.
It is no wonder, then, that our young hero would meet the girl who stole his heart in this tiny town. What's more, it is no wonder that red headed Logan would impact a young lass by the name of Keisha at such an early age. For you see, Keisha and Logan first met when they were but pups, under the watchful eye of a neighbor and a cousin. He, no more than six, and she, no more than four, were fated for love.
Through the years, Logan grew dorkier and dorkier while Keisha grew lovelier and lovelier. While he kept his eyes on other things, Keisha kept a place in her heart on him. When High School came around, Logan was a Junior, Keisha a Freshman. He still had little to no interest in girls. A chance meeting one day at the local library brought his attention sharply into focus. Rather bluntly, Keisha, stricken with an arrow from Cupid, approached Logan and asked him if he'd like to go to a school dance. Logan politely refused, but his heart began to change that very day. For the next year he thought of this girl and his refusal. He thought of how beautiful she was and how he knew deep in his heart that he wanted to be with her. But as dorkdom often does to people, Logan lacked the courage to say anything.
At the same time Logan's best mate, William, began fancying a certain young lass, a beautiful young girl by the name of Keisha. A kink in the plans, Keisha kept her eyes still on Logan, and Logan secretly kept his eyes on her. Through tact and patience, Keisha waited for Logan. College loomed ahead, and Logan knew that he had to confess his love for Keisha 'ere he left. He first told William, confessing his heart and his secret love, asking his pal's opinion and blessing. Kindly, William gave his approval, and Logan decided to make take the plunge.
It was early. Students were gathered in the cafeteria, chattering and eating breakfast. Logan's heart thumped and his mind raced. He stood and rushed to the table where Keisha sat, surrounded by girls. He unceremoniously plopped next to her and spoke in an unintelligible garble, asking her to attend the Winter's Ball if she were free. Astonished, Keisha said sure, though she easily could have refused him for his prior spurning. Relieved, Logan left in a whirlwind, leaving behind a table of talking girls.
That is just the beginning of the story of the couple known and Logan and Keisha. There is much left to be told.
Friday, April 20, 2012
Rememorandom
Portmanteau is one of my favorite words. I mean, juxtaposition is pretty exciting and all, but it's just temporary. Now making a portmanteau, that's a completely different beast. Takes courage. Effort. Mayhap an Elven forge and someone with wit.
It's been a long while, so a history lesson is in order. The term "Rememorandom" originated in high school. I've always considered myself artistic, and I've always enjoyed dabbling with the many different muses. In high school I wrote a lot of poems. They were awful and angst-filled, and I tried to capture emotions that I didn't necessarily have. (I was lucky, I suppose.) I wrote all kinds of these things, filling up a 5 Star notebook*. In my young mind, they were brilliant. They were things T.S. Eliot would be proud of, or maybe Adam Duritz. I even created a GeoCities website and posted them on there, putting them out there for all the world to see, cause I knew they were powerful.
Then I grew up. I went to college. I matured. I lost some of my artistic side as I entered Engineering School. Rather, I drifted from poetry into something else. In 2005 I decided, on a whim, to start a blog. I don't know why. For some reason the word "Rememorandom" came to mind, and I felt that it was a good choice to fit my personality and what I wanted to do with my blog.
In addition to reviewing, I began adding original fiction to the site. No real goals other than simply sharing output and craving critiques. Maybe one of these days I'll be good enough to get a book written or something, but until then, this is my method of choice.
I enjoy the blogging community. Online relationships are stronger here than on Facebook or Twitter. This is why I continue with Rememorandom.
Lastly, I always get a chuckle when other bloggers mention my blog. Most people tend to misspell my blog's name, usually putting REMEMORANDUM as opposed to REMEMORANDOM. That O is important. Without it, the portmanteau is reduced to two words squashed together and the randomness of my blog disappears. When it's included, though, that makes a world of a difference. Never underestimate a good portmanteau.
It's been a long while, so a history lesson is in order. The term "Rememorandom" originated in high school. I've always considered myself artistic, and I've always enjoyed dabbling with the many different muses. In high school I wrote a lot of poems. They were awful and angst-filled, and I tried to capture emotions that I didn't necessarily have. (I was lucky, I suppose.) I wrote all kinds of these things, filling up a 5 Star notebook*. In my young mind, they were brilliant. They were things T.S. Eliot would be proud of, or maybe Adam Duritz. I even created a GeoCities website and posted them on there, putting them out there for all the world to see, cause I knew they were powerful.
Then I grew up. I went to college. I matured. I lost some of my artistic side as I entered Engineering School. Rather, I drifted from poetry into something else. In 2005 I decided, on a whim, to start a blog. I don't know why. For some reason the word "Rememorandom" came to mind, and I felt that it was a good choice to fit my personality and what I wanted to do with my blog.
Remember: I've kept a journal for so long I can't remember when I started. I decided to switch to a digital format, using the blog as the source.
Memorandum: According to Wikipedia, a memorandum is "a note, document or other communication that helps the memory by recording events or observations on a topic, such as may be used in a business office."
Random: Sometimes a tiger will eat an elephant. Sometimes a basketball will sink. Once, I found a quarter with my name on it and there was no room for me in the Days Inn.In addition to these things, a more focused blog emerged. I began writing book reviews for myself, just because I enjoyed it. I loved to read, I loved to write, and I loved to recommend good books, so it soon turned into something more public. Now I receive free books from a few publishing houses (though I'd love to get in with the Big Boys), and I occasionally accept them from indie authors.
In addition to reviewing, I began adding original fiction to the site. No real goals other than simply sharing output and craving critiques. Maybe one of these days I'll be good enough to get a book written or something, but until then, this is my method of choice.
I enjoy the blogging community. Online relationships are stronger here than on Facebook or Twitter. This is why I continue with Rememorandom.
Lastly, I always get a chuckle when other bloggers mention my blog. Most people tend to misspell my blog's name, usually putting REMEMORANDUM as opposed to REMEMORANDOM. That O is important. Without it, the portmanteau is reduced to two words squashed together and the randomness of my blog disappears. When it's included, though, that makes a world of a difference. Never underestimate a good portmanteau.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Questioning Myself
Me+: Query: what are you going to do this weekend? Wanna hang out with me?
Me: No, not really. I've already made plans and I don't feel comfortable telling you all the details. Why?
Me+: Because I'm lonely, Me. I'm all but abandoned down here.
Me: Maybe that's because you're more than slightly annoying.
Me+: (scowling) Maybe it's because you're--
Me: I thought this was going to be some sort of interview. If it's a pity party, then I'm out of here.
Me+: No! No! I'm sorry. It's, I, ah, yes. Sorry. (coughs) Query: How was the concert the other night? Who did you go see?
Me: It was awesome, dude. I went and saw John Mark McMillan down in Nashville. Pretty sweet show.
Me+: Query: When can I expect to read your review? The fans are just dying to know.
Me: Uh, it's in progress. Should be up either this evening or tomorrow. Tell 'em I'm sorry it's taking so long and that I'll have Alfonso hop to it at double time.
Me+: Will do, my good man. Say, Query: have you watched Cabin in the Woods yet?
Me: Did you just turn British? Did you just speak in italics?!
Me+: I'm doing the asking here, but to answer your queries, I've always been British (long live the Queen!) and yes, I did speak in italics.
Me: (whistles) That's high class there.
Me+: Indeed.
Me: And no, I've not watched the movie yet. I want to see it, just finding the time and a babysitter and a matinee, y'know. Those are important.
Me+: Yes. I'm currently AWOL from my babysitter, and I would appreciate your confidentiality in this matter. Uhm, let's see here... Query: What's going on with the MLC? Any new prospects or anything?
Me: (deep sigh) Nothing new, really. Still hoping and waiting to hear back from one potential group, and my inside source makes me think that I will any day now, but as of yet, nothing. It's a tiring process. As for the MLC Proper, well, that's a different story, one that I don't really want to go in here. Let's just say that I'm simultaneously busy and not busy.
Me+: Hmmm. Sorry to hear that. (pulls out a random index card) Query: Why come you no like--
Me: Y'know you don't have to start every question off with the word query, right?
Me+: (stares at Me blankly for an uncomfortable forty seconds)
Me: Oh... Maybe you do. My bad.
Me+: Yes, Me, I very much do. Please don't bring it up again. Query: What's your favorite coffee creamer?
Me: I prefer hazelnut, but I also like French vanilla, too.
Me+: Query: What's your favorite color?
Me: It has always been green, and it always will be green.
Me+: Queries: Are you as excited about that Zac Efron movie as I am? Do you have any plans for your anniversary that's coming up? What are you reading? Breakfast? What book of the bible are you currently reading?
Me: That's a lot of questions, Me+. No, not at all. They're in the works. Look at my sidebar and see for yourself. Not usually, but I fried some eggs and made biscuits this morning. I'm almost through Numbers and soon to be in Deuteronomy.
Me+: Well that's all the time we have for today. I'd like to thank Me for stopping by and taking some time out of his busy schedule. Any final comments?
Me: (grinning) You forgot to say query.
Me: No, not really. I've already made plans and I don't feel comfortable telling you all the details. Why?
Me+: Because I'm lonely, Me. I'm all but abandoned down here.
Me: Maybe that's because you're more than slightly annoying.
Me+: (scowling) Maybe it's because you're--
Me: I thought this was going to be some sort of interview. If it's a pity party, then I'm out of here.
Me+: No! No! I'm sorry. It's, I, ah, yes. Sorry. (coughs) Query: How was the concert the other night? Who did you go see?
Me: It was awesome, dude. I went and saw John Mark McMillan down in Nashville. Pretty sweet show.
Me+: Query: When can I expect to read your review? The fans are just dying to know.
Me: Uh, it's in progress. Should be up either this evening or tomorrow. Tell 'em I'm sorry it's taking so long and that I'll have Alfonso hop to it at double time.
Me+: Will do, my good man. Say, Query: have you watched Cabin in the Woods yet?
Me: Did you just turn British? Did you just speak in italics?!
Me+: I'm doing the asking here, but to answer your queries, I've always been British (long live the Queen!) and yes, I did speak in italics.
Me: (whistles) That's high class there.
Me+: Indeed.
Me: And no, I've not watched the movie yet. I want to see it, just finding the time and a babysitter and a matinee, y'know. Those are important.
Me+: Yes. I'm currently AWOL from my babysitter, and I would appreciate your confidentiality in this matter. Uhm, let's see here... Query: What's going on with the MLC? Any new prospects or anything?
Me: (deep sigh) Nothing new, really. Still hoping and waiting to hear back from one potential group, and my inside source makes me think that I will any day now, but as of yet, nothing. It's a tiring process. As for the MLC Proper, well, that's a different story, one that I don't really want to go in here. Let's just say that I'm simultaneously busy and not busy.
Me+: Hmmm. Sorry to hear that. (pulls out a random index card) Query: Why come you no like--
Me: Y'know you don't have to start every question off with the word query, right?
Me+: (stares at Me blankly for an uncomfortable forty seconds)
Me: Oh... Maybe you do. My bad.
Me+: Yes, Me, I very much do. Please don't bring it up again. Query: What's your favorite coffee creamer?
Me: I prefer hazelnut, but I also like French vanilla, too.
Me+: Query: What's your favorite color?
Me: It has always been green, and it always will be green.
Me+: Queries: Are you as excited about that Zac Efron movie as I am? Do you have any plans for your anniversary that's coming up? What are you reading? Breakfast? What book of the bible are you currently reading?
Me: That's a lot of questions, Me+. No, not at all. They're in the works. Look at my sidebar and see for yourself. Not usually, but I fried some eggs and made biscuits this morning. I'm almost through Numbers and soon to be in Deuteronomy.
Me+: Well that's all the time we have for today. I'd like to thank Me for stopping by and taking some time out of his busy schedule. Any final comments?
Me: (grinning) You forgot to say query.
Monday, April 16, 2012
Nocturnal
I'm tired. Went to a concert last night. Got in late, like, almost 2am, and I'm no longer nocturnal. Used to be I could stay up late without any ramifications the next day. But now, at twenty-six and the father of a ten-month old, I'm good if I make it to 11 o'clock. Truth of the matter is that I'm just too darned busy. And since I'm being honest, it's something I'm trying to remedy.
See, I'm constantly pressed for time. Who isn't, though, right? Well I say fie on that. Fie on the world and its problems. Fie on America and its insatiable greed. Fie on clocks and fie on me if I don't try to do something about it. We live in a time when seminars on "time management" exist, because our culture says that more is better, and to get more then we have to work more and commit ourselves more. Add to that our many relationships outside of work, friends and family and school events and church gatherings, and the free time shrinks. Add to that the taboo of refusing to do something and time disappears.
That's why Monday nights are Family Nights for my family. We set it up a while ago that we would spend our Monday's together as a family, doing family things and enjoying one another. The rest of the week usually varies, but somehow I always find myself over-committed. I make plans to hang out with one friend one day and another at another time and my schedule somehow fills up and the only time I have to do things is either late at night or early in the morning.
Frankly, it's exhausting. I'm involved in several different ministries at church, and while I love doing them, it's also physically, spiritually, and emotionally taxing. Then if I throw in the various other situations going on in my life, I'm beat.
I don't write all this to just whine about time restrictions. It's very likely that you, dear Readers, also have saturated schedules. I write this just because it's something I'm working on, part of my goals for myself and my family. This year began with goals of reducing possessions and intending to live more minimally. I think it's only fitting that I also reduce my commitments and obligations, or at least accept the freedom that I don't have to say yes to everything.
Cause it's something I struggle with. I'm an analytical people-pleaser according to the personality test I once took, and I completely agree with that. I hate to admit it, but I sometimes put others before Keisha and Avonlea in my efforts, and I don't realize it. I'm working on it all, truly, and I hope you are, too.
See, I'm constantly pressed for time. Who isn't, though, right? Well I say fie on that. Fie on the world and its problems. Fie on America and its insatiable greed. Fie on clocks and fie on me if I don't try to do something about it. We live in a time when seminars on "time management" exist, because our culture says that more is better, and to get more then we have to work more and commit ourselves more. Add to that our many relationships outside of work, friends and family and school events and church gatherings, and the free time shrinks. Add to that the taboo of refusing to do something and time disappears.
That's why Monday nights are Family Nights for my family. We set it up a while ago that we would spend our Monday's together as a family, doing family things and enjoying one another. The rest of the week usually varies, but somehow I always find myself over-committed. I make plans to hang out with one friend one day and another at another time and my schedule somehow fills up and the only time I have to do things is either late at night or early in the morning.
Frankly, it's exhausting. I'm involved in several different ministries at church, and while I love doing them, it's also physically, spiritually, and emotionally taxing. Then if I throw in the various other situations going on in my life, I'm beat.
I don't write all this to just whine about time restrictions. It's very likely that you, dear Readers, also have saturated schedules. I write this just because it's something I'm working on, part of my goals for myself and my family. This year began with goals of reducing possessions and intending to live more minimally. I think it's only fitting that I also reduce my commitments and obligations, or at least accept the freedom that I don't have to say yes to everything.
Cause it's something I struggle with. I'm an analytical people-pleaser according to the personality test I once took, and I completely agree with that. I hate to admit it, but I sometimes put others before Keisha and Avonlea in my efforts, and I don't realize it. I'm working on it all, truly, and I hope you are, too.
Monday, April 02, 2012
A Bunch of Birds with One Stone
April First was the start date for the Blogging from A to Z challenge. I don't normally do these kinds of things, but I thought that this sounded fun, so I thought, hey, why not? If Dave's doing it, then it can't be that hard, right? But then I think of how Dave blogged for an entire year straight, not missing a day, and I think of his mental fortitude, and I question myself. I question my motives, my resolve.
Some bloggers have a theme for all 26 posts in April; others just wing it. Me, I think I'll spontaneously* plan to do something like this.
I would be a terrible father if I did not point out that my daughter's name begins with A. Avonlea will be 10 months on April 9, and I'm sad to say that it's been an incredibly quick ten months. Hard to believe just how much she's grown and developed. She's learned to crawl (kind of) just last week, but her mobility is currently limited to a mere few inches. She's also now sprouting fangs from the top of her mouth, though they're just barely through the gums. At her 9-month appointment last week, she weighed 13lb-15oz, which puts her below the 3rd-Percentile mark on weight charts, but she's doing fine and healthy. Mostly just a slobber factory at present.
I'm very blessed to have a daughter like her, and I look very much forward to watching her grow up.
For the letter B, I must discuss Baldness. This picture at the right is a lovely aerial taken by my wife. Truth be told, my balding bothers her more than it does me. Last year I was shaving the whole head during the summer, but it took a lot of time to do, and it got cold come Fall. I let my hair grow again and decided to opt out of the comb-over by shaving a simple cul-de-sac. This is a great compromise from the full head shave, as it's very quick to do and it's cooling for the unseasonably Spring heat.
I've always been the type of person to wear a ball cap. I remember being told repeatedly growing up that wearing a hat would make me go bald. My response was always the same: "Yeah, well when I'm bald, I'll still be wearing a hat, so what's it matter?" Apparently people were right, as I began going bald in college. (It could have been engineering school, too.) But I still wear hats, except at church, where I sit on the stage beneath the lights and play guitar, usually positioned in such a way that my head is down and a heavenly glow is likely reflecting from my top.
-----
*Can one spontaneously plan something?
Some bloggers have a theme for all 26 posts in April; others just wing it. Me, I think I'll spontaneously* plan to do something like this.
Week 1: Randomness (4/1-4/7, A-G)Considering that I'm already a day late, I've decided to combine A & B into one (short) post.
Week 2: Serialize a very short and likely absurd story (4/9-4/14, H-M)
Week 3: Various Musings (4/16-4/21, N-S)
Week 4: Undecided (4/23-4/28, T-Y)
Week 5: Conclusion (4/30, Z)
-----
I'm very blessed to have a daughter like her, and I look very much forward to watching her grow up.
I've always been the type of person to wear a ball cap. I remember being told repeatedly growing up that wearing a hat would make me go bald. My response was always the same: "Yeah, well when I'm bald, I'll still be wearing a hat, so what's it matter?" Apparently people were right, as I began going bald in college. (It could have been engineering school, too.) But I still wear hats, except at church, where I sit on the stage beneath the lights and play guitar, usually positioned in such a way that my head is down and a heavenly glow is likely reflecting from my top.
-----
*Can one spontaneously plan something?
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
A Leap Day Quandary
A leap for Leap Day.
It truly is a delicate situation.
Nigh on precarious, I daresay.
See, I've never had a blog post on Leap Day.
I squandered 2008 away with a smattering of posts as
I cringed through my last semesters of college. And the Leap Day
before that one I was coasting through my last months as a high schooler.
And the Leap Day before that one... there's no telling.
It truly is a delicate situation.
Nigh on precarious, I daresay.
See, I've never had a blog post on Leap Day.
I squandered 2008 away with a smattering of posts as
I cringed through my last semesters of college. And the Leap Day
before that one I was coasting through my last months as a high schooler.
And the Leap Day before that one... there's no telling.
So this is a monumental day. People all across
the world are literally erecting monuments
to Leap Day 2012, just like the
Mayans predicted all those
many years ago.
But the
problem
with
having a Leap
Day post is that I
don't have much to write
about, and I struggle with the idea
of publishing inane babble.
I could talk about the
new fancy gadget
up on the sidebar
there. The media
player thingy. We've
started recording and
podcasting our weekly Coffee Talks. It's
a men's group, so if any of you ladies wanna
give it a go you may wanna take a shot of testosterone
before you go in. This week we covered Genesis 1-25. The guy
at the end that says "Logan Stewart"... yeah, that's not me. I'm the second person
you hear speaking, the one with the odd and hickish accent.
Accents are another thing. I could spend my
time being self-conscious about it,
about the way that I say words
like "light", "night", or "like."
The fact that I say stuff
with a drawl and a
mumble, but
those aren't
reasons
to get
upset.
I prefer to see them as character attributes, not as words of a simpleton. It's baffling
how city folk make fun of our accents, though. Even folks from Louisville, the largest city
in the state, populations something-point-something-million. Louisvillians are so diverse that
some talk more country than me, and others more city. Personally, I can tell that my
accent's gotten more noticeable as I've aged.
I intentionally used the word "gotten" in the previous paragraph to give birth
to this paragraph for one solitary reason. It bothers me to read the word
"gotten" in anything that wants to be taken seriously unless
someone's speaking. Just seems like a lazy cop out.
My dad's dad was a cop. A deputy sheriff, in fact.
So yeah, I've taken a few rides in the back of a squad car.
A "young girl" jumped off the bridge here today. She's in critical condition.
I don't recall anything like that ever happening around here. I can't imagine coming
to the decision to do something like that, to stop your car in the middle of the span, get out, walk
to the edge,
climb the rail,
stare down the water,
feel the wind gusts
blow at you,
and
then
jump.
I can't imagine the thoughts in her mind for that 2-3 second drop.
I can't imagine hitting the water and thinking that something has
gone terribly wrong
(or right).
I can't imagine waking up in the hospital after deciding to do
it. It's an incredible opportunity the girl's been given,
to not have died immediately.
I pray that she recovers and that the love of
Jesus is shown to her.
I'm not a fan of buggy
and clunky computer
programs that limit user
input. I'm talking to you,
HEC-RAS. It's the standard in
bridge & open channel analyses for anything
remotely complicated, and yet it's lacking plenty
of functionality. Maybe that's cause it's
developed by the USACE? As it
goes, I'm doing a lot
of experimentation
with this thing.
I am a fan of format.
And experimentation.
And questionable verisimilitude.
Happy Leap Day!
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
In General
i. I've added a new tab to the top o' the page titled "Concerts." It's a chronicle of the shows I've been to.
1+1. I started a new project at work recently. It's some nice and fancy bridge hydraulics, running a few different HEC-RAS simulations. This is for the East St. Louis project I mentioned several months back. It's nice (and fun) to be doing something different.
... Stewartland now has a new computer (thanks Mom!), usurping my 8 year old laptop and Keisha's 6 year old piece of junk. It took some work and updating and motherboard work, but it's nice to have friends that are more than capable when it comes to that kind of stuff. Me, I'm squeamish.
4444. I checked out a different translation of The Brothers Karamazov. I own the Constance Garnett translation, which is fine but oddly clunky; so far the Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky is proving easier to read. I'm alternating between translations, depending on where I'm reading.
%. It's February and I'm in flip flops.
six. Lent began last week. Last year's was an amazing experience. This year we're doing something a little different. Taking our inspiration from Isaiah 58, we're trying to be more intentionally selfless and more giving. We felt that fasting was good for us last year as a kickstarter, but we also feel like it should be more of a normal practice instead of an annual thing. Thus, we committed to fasting one day (24-hrs) per week indefinitely. Been doing it for quite a while now, and it's remarkable how much I look forward to and dread the thing. Still, I long to draw closer to Jesus and to live more intentionally.
7. Does anyone else make playlists for parties? I'm hosting poker at my house this Friday and I'm working on the tunes. This is common practice for me, though I wonder if it's common for everyone?
7.b. Any particular song I should add to the list?
ocho. I've been in a writing slump. Not much creative writing going on, not really. I've daydreamed and thought of some ideas, but I've not had the time or the drive to put thoughts to words to screen. Most of the time I keep thinking on the grander story, the world that links the tales I'm most intrigued with. Perhaps one day...
1+1. I started a new project at work recently. It's some nice and fancy bridge hydraulics, running a few different HEC-RAS simulations. This is for the East St. Louis project I mentioned several months back. It's nice (and fun) to be doing something different.
... Stewartland now has a new computer (thanks Mom!), usurping my 8 year old laptop and Keisha's 6 year old piece of junk. It took some work and updating and motherboard work, but it's nice to have friends that are more than capable when it comes to that kind of stuff. Me, I'm squeamish.
4444. I checked out a different translation of The Brothers Karamazov. I own the Constance Garnett translation, which is fine but oddly clunky; so far the Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky is proving easier to read. I'm alternating between translations, depending on where I'm reading.
%. It's February and I'm in flip flops.
six. Lent began last week. Last year's was an amazing experience. This year we're doing something a little different. Taking our inspiration from Isaiah 58, we're trying to be more intentionally selfless and more giving. We felt that fasting was good for us last year as a kickstarter, but we also feel like it should be more of a normal practice instead of an annual thing. Thus, we committed to fasting one day (24-hrs) per week indefinitely. Been doing it for quite a while now, and it's remarkable how much I look forward to and dread the thing. Still, I long to draw closer to Jesus and to live more intentionally.
7. Does anyone else make playlists for parties? I'm hosting poker at my house this Friday and I'm working on the tunes. This is common practice for me, though I wonder if it's common for everyone?
7.b. Any particular song I should add to the list?
ocho. I've been in a writing slump. Not much creative writing going on, not really. I've daydreamed and thought of some ideas, but I've not had the time or the drive to put thoughts to words to screen. Most of the time I keep thinking on the grander story, the world that links the tales I'm most intrigued with. Perhaps one day...
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