by jphilo | Jan 22, 2009 | Daily Life
I’m not sure when it happened but sometime in the last five years, technology invaded my office. I am now the owner of a MacBook, a snazzy digital camera, a telephoto lens, a fancy flash attachment, a tripod, a digital camcorder, a new fliptop cell phone, an external hard drive, an iPod Classic, a tape recorder and a gizmo that allows me to use it to record phone interviews, several carrying cases, multiple charger cords and more cables than you can shake a stick at.
If I knew how to “utilize new technology to the fullest,” these devices would make my life easier. But I know just enough to be dangerous, never efficient. My external hard drive, which I use to back up documents and pictures says it is full, and I have no idea how to get rid of its technoclutter. The manual to the fancy flash attachment says that to determine the correct flash bounce angle, I should check the camera’s ISO setting. What does that mean? My iPod is always syncronizing, the tripod sometimes collapses without notice, the new cell phone’s ring is unfamiliar, and my technology drawer is a mass of cables and chords that look an awful lot like the Canadian garter snake balls I saw in National Geographic once. Sometimes I hear things moving around in the drawer. I think they’re mating.
The situation will never get better, only worse. More technology will invade my house and breed behind closed drawers. So consider this your warning. I’m armed and dangerous. It’s time to lock the doors.
by jphilo | Dec 27, 2008 | Daily Life
Funny how long everything takes when the kids are home. When only Anne returned for the holidays, I could keep up with one extra body in the house. But with two kids here, routine tasks – cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, appointments, maintenance, scooping snow – increase exponentially, even though the extra bodies help out. Throw Christmas preparations into the mix and I was sunk before I started.
Apparently, my expectations were way too ambitious, even though I had scaled down my to-do to only two items: finish the Christmas letter and blog. In light of the circumstances and the season, brush teeth and change underwear would have been more realistic.
This week has been a bust according to my to-do list. To combat the atmosphere of failure within my task-driven little heart, I’ve complied retrospective list of items that didn’t make the official one.
- Watched the movies Princess Bride, Master and Commander, Ever After, and Hidalgo, as well as several episodes of the first season of The Muppet Show with the kids.
- Gone to the grocery store at least five times in the past two weeks, up from the normal frequency of one trip every two weeks.
- Helped Allen write a resume.
- Took Anne’s car to a mechanic in Des Moines and then went Christmas shopping with kids and a niece.
- Drove to Des Moines the following day to pick up Anne’s car and exchange some of the presents I’d purchased.
- Baked cookies with my middle school friend, Ashley, so she had Christmas presents for her family.
- Called my mother several times.
- Got most of the Christmas letter written.
- Listened while Anne poured her heart out.
- Listened while Allen poured his heart out.
- Attended a friend’s engagement party.
- Attended a concert put on by some special twenty-somethings we know.
- Dug around in the attic.
- Brushed my teeth and put on clean underwear every day.
Take that, gloomy atmosphere of failure! Get out of here! Vamoose! Scram! Man, do I feel better. This retrospective to-do list thing is incredibly self-validating.
I encourage you to make your own retrospective to-do list, especially if your frustrated by extra holiday duties. Post it as a comment for others to see, so we can cheer you on.
by jphilo | Dec 19, 2008 | Daily Life
Between travel and bad weather, I’ve hardly set foot on our gravel road for over two and a half weeks. So yesterday, before the storm, I hauled my camera along when I drove to town. On the way back I snapped this shot of our wintery road.
The storm finally hit last night around seven o’clock. After several hours of pinging sleet, the snow arrived. To celebrate the storm we watched Master and Commander, a great sea movie based on the first book in the Patrick O’Brian series. Both my kids went through the “Mom, please, please can I take fencing lessons?” phase at different times, so I knew they would like the movie.
I shouldn’t have been surprised by what happened after the movie credits rolled. Allen turned to Anne and said, “Let’s learn how to sword fight. Let’s check the internet.” Anne nodded in agreement, and they flew upstairs to Hiram’s computer. After a short, intense googling session, they ran back down with six pages of broadsword building and fighting instructions as well as links to numerous instructional videos.
Allen grinned. “We can make wood swords in Dad’s wood shop.”
“And I can knit armor out of chrome duct tape.” Anne’s eyes sparkled. “But first, let’s watch Pirates of the Caribbean.”
When I went to bed, they were planning and scheming. This morning, their enthusiasm remains undimmed. I smile while they chatter, grateful that after so many years apart, they want to redeem the unexpected time they have together this Christmas season. As they plan their ancient war training, the words that echo inside me seem a strange blessing upon their conversation.
Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace among children with whom He is well pleased.
by jphilo | Dec 17, 2008 | Daily Life
A dark funk’s been nipping at my heels since we got back to Boone, and today it almost got the best of me. Maybe the change in routine fed the vicious beast. Maybe it’s because I’ve gotten nowhere on my manuscript for days.
Just when I think things are arranged so I can get to work, another obstacle pops up. My brother’s furnace went out yesterday, so Mom came here until it got fixed today. We spent the day baking, which I’d planned to do with her next week, once my manuscript was done. Allen’s big plans for splitting wood have been derailed by a nasty cold which seems to be turning into bronchitis. Anne wanted to come home tomorrow, but after several emails and a phone call, she took off early to beat the nasty storm that’s in the forecast.
Hiram, my patient and naturally pessimistic husband, has been more than normally pessimistic ever since we got back from West Virginia. There’s a nasty smell in our bedroom, either a dead critter in the outer wall or socks in need of exorcism, that is driving every ounce of patience out of him. The stress cold sore that sprouted beneath my nose last week is healing as grotesquely as possible. When I look in the mirror, the idea of a face transplant seems logical.
My Christmas shopping isn’t done. My Christmas letter won’t get done until the manuscript is in the editor’s hands. My Christmas decorating is on hold until Anne, who is driving on obscure Iowa country roads in cold, dark, single degree temperature weather, gets home. My Christmas cheer is danger of being eaten alive by my dark funk.
According to the Trauma Institute people, I’ve been attacked by “the Wednesdays” disguised as a dark funk. Last week they told my son he would feel better on Thursday, and they were right. So that’s my pep talk tonight. I’ll feel better on Thursday. I’ll feel better on Thursday. I’ll feel better on Thursday.
If this doesn’t work, I’m banking on the face transplant. One look at this cold sore, and I’m a shoe-in with the ethics board.
by jphilo | Dec 16, 2008 | Daily Life
When the kids were little and I was a schoolteacher, snow days were baking days at our house. I thought that chapter of my life was over, now that the kids are grown and I work at home. This morning, my son came downstairs and looked outside. He declared the day not good for splitting and hauling wood. “Maybe today we should make cookies,” he suggested.
So while I reorganized my office, sorted mail, and finished an article, he started baking. By mid-afternoon, we had three boxes of biscotti ready to mail: one for Mike and Brenda who housed us two weekends ago, one for the Trauma Therapy Institute, and one for Discovery House Publishers. A box of shortbread was ready to send to the monks.
All morning, I kept shaking my head. “Is this real?” I asked myself every five minutes. “Is my son in the kitchen baking?” Over the past five years, I had made peace with his decision to be a monk. I blocked out the hope of any other end to his story.
Our trip to the post office to mail the boxes was uneventful, so the goodies are on the way. But the pick up got stuck in our driveway on the way home, and we had to walk the rest of the way. I can see the snow piling up on the hood as I write.
The immediate future is unsettled at our house. Allen’s adjusting to the outside world. I’m adjusting to having him around. My husband is driving home in a snowstorm tonight, and the weather doesn’t look good for Anne’s return from college Thursday. When they do get home, they can’t get into the garage because of the pick up blocking the driveway.
But this afternoon, I’m not worried about the future. Instead, I’m relishing a stormy day spent baking, getting stuck in the driveway, hiking through the snow, and the gift of sharing these things with my son.
Can this day be real?
by jphilo | Nov 24, 2008 | Daily Life
I have a confession to make. I’m really, really good about taking photos and downloading them into iPhoto. And, I’m really, really good at telling myself I’ll label and organize them later. My strategy worked for two years until I used up most of my computer memory. So this weekend, when we had no commitments other than church, I yanked open the door to my electronic closet. The iPhoto iSkeleton I’ve been shoving to the very back for the past few years fell on my head. Ouch!
For two days I sorted photos into files and burned the files to disks. I reorganized, labeled and tagged he pictures I left on the computer. It was torture, even though I watched the third season of the first Bob Newhart show while on the rack. Though I’m not quite done organizing and backing up, I’m much closer to my goal. The computer is working faster now that it’s not overloaded, and I hope to finish labeling and tagging while we travel for Thanksgiving.
New Year’s Day is a month and a half away, but I already have my resolution for 2009. From now on, when I download, I will label and tag photos. I’ll burn them to CDs, which will also be labeled, when the files get full. I promise, I promise, I promise.
No way do I want another weekend like this past one. As a matter of fact, I need some iTylenol for the iHeadache I developed. So I’ll leave you with one word of warning – stand back when you open your electronic closet. Those iSkeletons hurt when they fall on your head.
