Labor Day, Hello, My Old Friend.

Labor Day, the birth of Winter, or the death of Summer, or just a Monday holiday. Maybe all three for some people, maybe just another damned Monday for others. Not everybody gets to take the day off and get paid. I am one of the lucky ones, one of the lucky millions probably.

I'm not sure who decided to make the first Monday in September a paid day off, or why. And, I don't really care. It's a day off, with pay, that I didn't have to ask for. It doesn't carry the emotional obligations of Memorial Day, the patriotic fervor of July 4th, or the spiritual demands of Thanksgiving. At least I don't think it does. I could probably look it up, but why bother?

There are several hummingbirds that have breakfast with me on the weekends. I sit on our patio drinking my coffee and they come along and drink their nectar. When they finish they buzz off to somewhere. It seemed, for a brief time I should try to find out more about them, but decided against it. I enjoy them, I probably couldn't enjoy them anymore than I do. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing, after all. I just snap their photos, say good morning and they move on. I know everything I need to know about some things, Labor Day is one of them.

Not knowing much makes it makes it easier to assume that someone, due to laziness or lack of funds, or even a minor speech impediment shortened it from Don't Labor Day. Because I don't really labor all that much, I might mow the lawn, and trim the hedges, but that's about as laborious as it gets, and if I can keep my wife distracted I will probably fall short of that modest goal.

Normally Labor Day ushers in  more civilized weather, less heat, humidity, fewer unbearable, sweaty, sticky days. You might need a jacket, oh blessed be the mornings you need to layer. It always leads to trouble, though, when the morning is cool, and the afternoon warm, a migration of coats to work, a pile on the shelf by the printer, loved and cherished early in the day, forgotten on the way home. Life on the edge, the struggle is real.

And there is always Swapper's Day, in Johnstown, an event not to be missed. A trip through time and space, at least times and spaces I have occupied. 8 track tapes, fishing equipment, vendors everywhere, selling everything, within fairly wide limits. It is crowded, hectic, cramped, and noisy. The ground is uneven and hilly, and the whole thing is difficult.  But, just going is fun. For $5.00 you can take a trip through another world. Elon Musk can't compete with that.

So, hold on, Labor Day is coming to save us. I will see you there. If we make it.

Today's song o' happiness comes from a different time and space, where Funk was King.  Don't forget to vote in the Life Explained Happiness Poll, coming soon. If anybody knows how to create a poll in Facebook, please send me the instructions.

Time, the Enemy of Reason.

Tomorrow is the Day. Today is the day before the Day. Yesterday, of course was the day before today, but that doesn't really matter for the sake of this post. One thing that should be pointed out, though, is yesterday was Tuesday. Since Monday was Labor Day (Labour Day if you live in New Zealand, thanks for the information, Trina) Tuesday seemed an awful lot like Monday. Which makes today, which is Wednesday, have the general texture of Tuesday. Having Monday as a holiday is fine, great in fact, Monday as a blessing, but having Tuesday turn into Monday and throw the rest of the week into chaos is just not acceptable.

To make matters worse, if that is at all possible, I am leaving at 11:00 AM sharp tomorrow for Lake Hope, just my wife, our kayaks, and me, and a bottle of Pinot Noir, and possibly a bottle of Malbec. Not because of any great attraction to these two wines, but we happen to have a bottle of each on hand. Not that the wine really has anything to do with this post.

Let's recap, since we seem to have taken a wrong turn somewhere.

Monday was a holiday, which forced an atmosphere of Monday onto Tuesday. This, of course, pressed hard into Wednesday, making it feel frighteningly similar to Tuesday. I am taking a day off on Friday, making Thursday my de-facto Friday, and since it has to serve as Wednesday, and try to pull off some semblance of Thursday as well, and it will have to do it in 4 hours, since I am only working half of a day.

You can see my problem. I am dealing with a week shortened on both ends, and the chaos of trying to cram a weeks worth of obsessing about the passage of time in 2 1/2 days. The pressure is almost unbearable. I don't want you worrying about this, though, it is my job. Just go about business as normal, and I will get this straightened out.

Have a nice Wednesday, or Tuesday, or Thursday, or whatever the hell day it is. It should be a nice day, the weather in Fairbanks AK is mid sixties with a slight chance of rain. If you don't live in Fairbanks let me know, I always thought you looked like a person from Fairbanks. It's a small world.

Since we are going kayaking and I could not find any good kayaking poetry here is a nautical poem, short, sweet and full of imagery.

Sea Fever

BY JOHN MASEFIELD

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,

And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;

And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,

And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.

 

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide

Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied; 

And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,

And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

 

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,

To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;

And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,

And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.

I'm Feeling Grinchy & Green

It's the holidays. Every year I get a tad moody during the holidays because my children live in Florida. It has been 12 years since I have spent a Christmas with my kids and that in itself makes me moody. Last year I didn't even decorate.

This year I have a new grandson which makes me smile when I think of his little face. I try and overcome the feelings of sadness and try to be grateful but mentally I'd like to throw myself down on the floor and scream bloody murder.

Being in the financial place we are in now I was hard pressed to come up with something special for my new grandson having wonderful ideas that I can't follow through so I did some researching and came up with TinyBeans to which I would put all the pictures from Facebook of little Barrett and write a book about my life and present it to him when he is 12 years old.

The book not the pictures. With the picture's I am entertaining the idea of a calendar.

Okay here comes the 'Green' part. My Ex who is my son's father is married to a super nice woman so I don't dislike her, but because of her he has funds at his disposal. So I get to see the cars and the trips and all that but whatever, it is what it is.

What I'm getting at I find out through again, Facebook, that they gave my son a baby book which ticked me off and now I'm struggling with trying to not be all grinchy & green. Long-distance jealousy is such an impotent emotion to which I want to go out and kill a snowman and stomp on a snow-angel.

I know I will get over this but for now I'm feeling like a grinchy grandma which is starting to make me smile.

So I made a suggestion to Mike Raven for a Christmas Card to your Ex being honest...

Dear Ex
YOU SUCK
Merry Freak'in Christmas

A little Holiday Advice, from a Trusted Source.

Thanksgiving is over, thank God, now we can start getting ready for Christmas. Actually it is socially acceptable to begin preparations when Halloween is over. The trick is to blend Thanksgiving and Christmas into one long celebration. It is not a good idea to advertise that kind of thinking. Wiser to just kind of mumble it in. Try "Happy ThanksChristmas, here is my gift list."

Running the words together is your left jab, preoccupying your opponent, putting them off balance, making them doubt what they heard. Before they have time to regroup, question the statement you strike with the right cross! the Christmas List. All they can do is stutter a thank you, and ask what you have planned for the holidays.

Of course it is vital that your list is complete, with a spreadsheet comparing prices, at several stores, with directions to each. Phone numbers, and web site addresses are optional, but it is recommended.

Also, you want to have several lists, with different items, you don't want any of those morons you call friends, or family doubling up on that new Xbox Whatever They Call It.*

It is also important to remember that there are people who want to buy you something but are having a rough time, maybe experiencing a financial setback. Make sure there are plenty of less expensive items on there for those losers too. It is Christmas after all.

Of course, after careful consideration, and a thorough examination of my lists we might need to celebrate Happy Independence Christmas next year.

Anyway, enjoy shopping, buy lots of stuff, and don't forget to send your favorite Holiday Shopping Madness pictures to me.


* I don't suggest telling people exactly what they should give you. People can resent that.

Saint Valentine's Day

As we approach the confectioners, to purchase chocolate covered offerings, the florists to buy flowers, and the stationary store to pick out the appropriately affectionate card for our chosen one, let us not forget the man responsible for all of the love, joy, and romance of the day.

An artist interpretation.
Not the real Saint Valentine.

Let me introduce, Saint Valentine.  A Roman priest from the 3rd century, during the time of Claudius the II (Roman, for Junior) who thought the best soldiers were single men (apparently, Claudius II (Roman for I + I) was never married, if you catch my drift), and banned the marriage of all "young people."  Young was Roman for "able to shove a spear all the way through one of our enemies."  

Valentine, the priest, did not care for this mandate and performed many ceremonies, marrying young people without concern for the silly rules of Claudius II (Roman for III - I).*

Here is where the romantic bit came in, Claudius II (Roman for almost as good as I,but a lot cheaper) for was so moved by this brave, and noble gesture that he ended the siege of the Balkans, freed the slaves and granted Carthage sovereignty.

No, he didn't really do that, Roman emperors were not normally very tolerant of disobedience.  Preferring the blind loyalty that comes with being in charge of the a hideously large empire that even now, hundreds of years later it still is covered in scholarly research, popular art and web logs.  Claudius II (Roman for, "wow, that was kind of overkill) had him beaten, stoned and decapitated. 

Well, at least they are better than Peeps.

Which is why we celebrate Saint Valentine's day, with chocolate, flowers, dinners, dancing, romance and love.  Yeah, I know, it doesn't make any sense to me either.

Anyway, here is the perfect opportunity to mention my wife.  A woman of infinite patience, who has learned to suffer foolishness gladly over the years, and who saved me from an early and bad end, though sometimes I am sure she wonders why she did that.  Thank you, for everything, Happy Valentines Day!

* Yes, I know there are other beliefs about the origin of this day, but it is my blog, after all.

Good News.

Things have been going very well at work, business is booming, and the future looks pretty bright.  Except for all of the actual "work" required to complete all of this "business" things couldn't be better.  But, most of us are getting used to working here, so that is only a minor nuisance, not really a big problem.  Not that we want to make a living working like that, but occasionally, if it is for the common good we will do our part.

Then came the nasty surprise.  The owner emailed the company that she would taking a vacation day, and she was taking her family, and the dog.  

Of course, I panicked and emailed back quickly.  "How, in the name of all that is holy, do you expect us to run a extravagantly busy,  hugely important, fantastically successful applied research and development facility like this without a dog?"

Doctor Dawg meet Dr. Dog. 

In her kind, patient way, she replied, "don't worry, we have installed a backup dog."

Dog redundancy, amazing, the people I work for think of everything.  The future looks bright, and the holidays are safe for another year.

Of course, if things stay this busy, we may need a tertiary dog.  Only qualified candidates need apply.