My Ramblings

You may never know what others think of you unless they take time to tell you. I recently rediscovered a letter written to me by my friend's wife. In it she told some very nice things she thinks about me. One of her thoughts especially made me feel good. She said I am like the sun whose friends orbit around me. Wow! I surely am unable to think about myself it such terms, but I'll admit I beamed like the sun after reading it. She went on to say I reconnect folks to one another and possess the rare trait of helping others feel loved.  Reading her letter could not have occurred at a better time; I am depressed about my slow recovery and inability to be productive in the way I was in the past, physically. I was feeling unworthy but her loving words caused me to understand that I worth to others emotionally. The moral of this post is that all of us have something to give to others.  Sometimes, we get bogged down in our self-pity and turn inward.  Two questions: what can you

My uncle Jim once told me a story about his brother-in-law, Gene Meredith. The story took place sometime in 60s around Redding, California.  Gene owned a two door sedan that was not in the best condition but it was still drivable. One day he took it to a service station to have the oil changed.  Changing the oil involves putting the car up on the lift, unscrewing the oil pan drain plug and allowing the oral to run into a container. I need to interject here that Gene Meredith was not a scrupulous person. He was somewhat an outlaw and some people considered him an in savory character. While the mechanic was changing the oil, Gene removed a second drain plug he had in his pocket and set it on a shelf in the shop. The work was completed and Gene drove off in his car. A little ways from the gas station he stopped the car, got out, crawled under the vehicle and removed the drain plug after which, he drove away. Some miles later, the engine seized up and gave up the ghost. Gene got a r

I first met Tim Crownover when we were 10 years old. We lived in a small town and went to the same school from fifth grade through high school. I remember Tim being mischievous and fun loving. In the fifth grade, we were in Miss Lum's class. Tim got several of us to shoot spit wads at the big clock face on the wall of the classroom. We chewed little pieces of paper, rolling them into tiny projectiles in our mouth and then shot them through the barrel of Bic pens. I believe that Miss Lum was a first year teacher. She was oblivious to most of the antics going on behind her back as she wrote on the chalkboard. By the end of the school year, the clock face was almost completely covered with dried spit wads and she never seemed to notice it. Tim was a very small kid at that time and most of the girls called him Timmy. He was an excellent athlete and could play any sport very well. He was quick on the basketball court, could out run most everyone and went on to become a very good bas

As my wife, Linda, babysits our two grandsons while our daughter Holly works, I get to spend a lot of time with them. Judah is five and Joshua is three. These boys remind me of both my other grandsons Luca and Logan as well as my brother Jeff and I. I don't really know if I can be objective about it but I think my observations are accurate in regard to the parallels of these three groups of boys. Of the six, Luca, Judah and I are the oldest. This leaves Jeff, Logan, and Joshua as the younger of the pairs. The oldest boys are, shall I say, more intellectual than the younger ones. That is, the elder boys are able to get the younger ones to do things and often talk them into taking the blame for whatever mischief has been undertaken. The younger boys are tougher and will fight at the drop of a hat. All three of the seconds often seem not to think before they act. They fiercely protect their older brothers when necessary or come to ask the older brother for help when they need it.

May 14, 2017 Today is Mother's Day 2017. When I woke up this morning, I laid in bed for a while and thought about this day. My first thoughts turned to my own mom by whom I was blessed. She was a fantastic mom who loved her children deeply. She raised four children on her own after our father died in 1968. I was 11 years old when this happened; the oldest of the siblings, three boys, and one girl. I now know that it was not easy for her to undertake this huge task but she did it without complaint. She experienced a lot of heartache with the loss of her husband and then again in 1981 when her youngest son, Kevin, died in a car crash. Mom passed away almost 20 years ago at age 62. I think of her often and miss her very much but most of all on Mother's Day. As I thought about my mom, my thoughts turned to my wife, Linda, who is a champion of mothers (and grandmothers). She is so nurturing and full of love for her kids and their kids. Back when our children were small, I rem

May 9, 2017 Today begins the second phase of my blog. I’ll begin my going back to August 8, 2016. On that day, I was running a low-grade fever and had some blisters on my legs from edema that was escaping through my skin. I was sitting at the computer and when I stood up to go back into the living room, I fell down. Like the two times before this when I fell down I had to call the fire department to come and pick me up off the floor because I was not strong enough to do it myself. This was due to several things including my obesity and the weakness in my legs from not walking to keep them strong. When the firefighters arrived, they checked my temperature and decided that I should go to the hospital for an evaluation. I was fortunate they suggested this because once I got to Kaiser I was immediately admitted. To make a long story short the infection in my right leg was septic and for two and a half weeks doctors pumps five different kinds of IV antibiotics into me to kill it.