Friday, September 23, 2016

Happy Birthday Darcie

It seems only yesterday we brought Darcie home from the hospital in Olympia. (I won't say how many years ago it actually was) We actually checked in right at midnight; and I fell asleep on the heat register, while Jan stayed awake? What a blessing and joy she has been- Thank You Jesus, for giving us, her. So many wonderful moments we have shared together- and looking forward to so many more. I wish her much joy and happiness and pray Gods continued blessings on her. Happy Birthday Darcie.

SOMEDAY WHEN THE KIDS ARE GROWN, things are going to be a lot different. The garage won't be full of bikes, electric train tracks on plywood, sawhorses surrounded by chunks of two-by-fours, nails, a hammer and saw, unfinished "experimental projects," and the rabbit cage. I'll be able to park both cars neatly in just the right places, and never again stumble over skateboards, a pile of papers (saved for the school fund drive), or the bag of rabbit food—now split and spilled. Ugh!
SOMEDAY WHEN THE KIDS ARE GROWN, the kitchen will be incredibly neat. The sink will be free of sticky dishes, the garbage disposal won't get choked on rubber bands or paper cups, the refrigerator won't be clogged with nine bottles of milk, and we won't lose the tops to jelly jars, catsup bottles, the peanut butter, the margarine, or the mustard. The water jar won't be put back empty, the ice trays won't be left out overnight, the blender won't stand for six hours coated with the remains of a midnight malt, and the honey will stay inside the container.
SOMEDAY WHEN THE KIDS ARE GROWN, my lovely wife will actually have time to get dressed leisurely. A long, hot bath (without three panic interruptions), time to do her nails (even toenails if she pleases!) without answering a dozen questions and reviewing spelling words, having had her hair done that afternoon without trying to squeeze it in between racing a sick dog to the vet and a trip to the orthodontist with a kid in a bad mood because she lost her headgear.
SOMEDAY WHEN THE KIDS ARE GROWN, the instrument called a "telephone" will actually be available. It won't look like it's growing from a teenager's ear. It will simply hang there . . . silently and amazingly available! It will be free of lipstick, human saliva, mayonnaise, corn chip crumbs, and toothpicks stuck in those little holes.
SOMEDAY WHEN THE KIDS ARE GROWN, I'll be able to see through the car windows. Fingerprints, tongue licks, sneaker footprints, and dog tracks (nobody knows how) will be conspicuous by their absence. The back seat won't be a disaster area, we won't sit on jacks or crayons anymore, the tank will not always be somewhere between empty and fumes, and (glory to God!) I won't have to clean up dog messes another time.
SOMEDAY WHEN THE KIDS ARE GROWN, we will return to normal conversations. You know, just plain American talk. "Gross" won't punctuate every sentence seven times. "Yuk!" will not be heard. "Hurry up, I gotta go!" will not accompany the banging of fists on the bathroom door. "It's my turn" won't call for a referee. And a magazine article will be read in full without interruption, then discussed at length without mom and dad having to hide in the attic to finish the conversation.
SOMEDAY WHEN THE KIDS ARE GROWN, we won't run out of toilet tissue. My wife won't lose her keys. We won't forget to shut the refrigerator door. I won't have to dream up new ways of diverting attention from the gumball machine . . . or have to answer "Daddy, is it a sin that you're driving forty-seven in a thirty-mile-per-hour zone?" . . . or promise to kiss the rabbit goodnight . . . or wait up forever until they get home from dates . . . or have to take a number to get a word in at the supper table . . . or endure the pious pounding of one Keith Green just below the level of acute pain.
Yes, someday when the kids are grown, things are going to be a lot different. One by one they'll leave our nest, and the place will begin to resemble order and maybe even a touch of elegance. The clink of china and silver will be heard on occasion. The crackling of the fireplace will echo through the hallway. The phone will be strangely silent. The house will be quiet . . . and calm . . . and always clean . . . and empty . . . and filled with memories . . . and lonely . . . and we won't like that at all. And we'll spend our time not looking forward to Someday but looking back to Yesterday. And thinking, "Maybe we can babysit the grandkids and get some life back in this place for a change!"

Saturday, September 3, 2016

Don't Worry, Be Happy

On this date in 1985,  I started to work for the state in Pasco. Thanks to Ray Adams for hiring me at WUTC and  and to Luther Beaty for hiring me at WSDOT almost 24 years ago, so I would not have to leave Wenatchee. (we moved to Wenatchee on Christmas Day 1987 from Marysville)  God has had a hand in leading me and I am so thankful for each job and each friend I made along the way. I often think how life could have been different if I had made different decisions?  For example I was offered a job on coast in 1975 but stayed in Grand Coulee, after my boss gave me a raise. I was offered a job in Ephrata selling Farmers Insurance about that time as well; and even interviewed for a Olympia Police officer and a State Trooper in the Early 80s- before I took the WUTC job in Pasco on todays date. I am also thankful for the vacation and health care benefits the state has given me. In past 31 years I have a photo book with 22 vacations highlighted and I have 31 vacation videos posted on this blog. Little did I know when I accepted that job 31 years ago, I would see three different towns to live in,  eight different offices to call home, 6 assigned cars/pickups,  and the many great people I would get to work with. Can't wait to see what the next years hold for me.
Work is either fun or drudgery. It depends on your attitude. I like fun

I am going to live forever- so far, so good.

I thought I wanted a career. Turns out I just wanted paychecks.