Maybe they were right??.....

I was sitting in my living room today playing with my one year old son. I began to ponder how happy it makes me just to sit and play with him. To hear him laugh is like medicine for a tired soul. His smile is like that first drink of cool crystal clear water after days in the desert with nothing to drink and sand gritting between your teeth. The words of many parents came to mind, "You'll never know how happy children make you until you have some of your own." Being the stereotypical child, I pretened to agree without giving much thought to the situation. Now that I have experienced the joy for myself, I can proclaim with many a new saved soul, "I have seen the light." Each day that little guy makes my heart bigger when he smiles at me, or climbs up on my lap and gives me a kiss. For those of you that have kids you know what I am talking about, for those of you that don't, let's just say I love being a Dad!

It makes me wonder what else my parents were right about?

The Kindness of Strangers (Friday the 13th Part II)

We had just about decided to turn around when we heard the faint buzzing of what sounded like a snowmobile. Soon enough a light appeared in the darkness and was zooming toward us. The snowmobile approached us and stopped, and there was the “father figure” from our group. Apparently he had been stuck several times in the last few hours. We loaded my wife and child onto the back of the snowmobile and off they zoomed. We were assured that a friendly group of snowmobilers that were in the area would stop and help us. What a lucky chance, we were saved, at last. We went a little further and three snowmobiles approached. They stopped and chatted with me (I was slightly ahead of the other two with the baby) and told me that they would help but that they didn’t have enough gas, so we were on our own. My hopes suddenly died again. I wasn’t worried about myself, but I felt bad for my sister-in-law and her baby. Off the three men zoomed. They stopped and talked with the others and then came back in my direction. One went down the hill to call their families and my sister-in-law was on the back of one of the two quickly approaching me. I guess somehow they had gotten more gas and had changed their minds when they saw the baby. My sister-in-law’s husband stayed behind and they offered me a ride. I was so tired I didn’t care. I got on and off we zoomed.
It was a bumpy ride but I was just glad that it would soon all be over. The lead machine stopped and the two drivers conferred with one another. They weren’t sure if this was the right path but they thought it might be. The lead driver decided he would head up the trail a bit farther and then come back and tell us if it was right. He left the woman and child and took off. The rest of us waited and made small talk until he returned. He said that it didn’t look familiar but he was sure that was the way, plus there was a man and a woman that were stuck on the trail. We all got back on and took off up the hill. The machine I was on suddenly dug itself into a hole and the back of the machine was buried in snow up to the seat back. The driver and I got off and heaved the heavy end of the machine out of the snow. He tried again and again it dug down. We did this two more times before we got the machine free. Meanwhile the other machine was long gone. The driver of the machine I was on drove it up a small hill so as not to get stuck again and guess what I had to “climb” up the hill to meet him. Not such an easy task in waist deep snow. I was so tired I could barely lift my legs, so finally I just got on all fours and crawled as best I could up the hill. I felt pathetic but I didn’t care. We got on and zoomed up the hill. After a brief ride we saw the couple that was stuck and the driver of the other snowmobile that was with us had just gotten them freed. Apparently they had been stuck here for three hours and had already dug a snow cave ready to spend the night. If felt good knowing that they could now go home, but if they had been there for three hours and didn’t see anyone then that meant we were on the wrong trail. We all turned around and went back to square one, where we had started. We got there expecting to see my brother-in-law, but he was already gone, picked up by the father or our group. Oh man, what a night. In the meantime, the third member of our rescuers had come back up the hill and he knew where we needed to go. After another long cold, bumpy ride we saw the glow of light from the windows of the yurt. Finally our ordeal was over and we could step into the warmth of the room with a roaring fire. We thanked our rescuers and assured them that they saved our lives. Off they zoomed and we stumbled into the yurt. My wife greeted me along with my brother-in-law who were all wondering where we were at. I realized that it was still quite cold in the yurt and was informed that they had problems getting the fire started and it had just only been lit. So we all huddled around the stove and told the story of our grand adventure. We were all safe, and getting warm and things were better.

Now that I think back, it doesn’t seem that bad but at the time I was very worried. Many prayers were answered that night, and I will be eternally grateful for the kindness of strangers.

Friday the 13th.. Part I

Normally not a superstitious fellow, I have no qualms about doing things on so called vexed days. I think that superstitions are fun ways to express emotions towards things beyond our control. This last Friday the 13^th was to be no different for me, at least so I thought when the day began.

The day started off with the possibility of being a great and adventurous day. My wife’s friend had suggested that a small group of us cross country ski to a Yurt located in Mill Hollow. She made all the proper reservations and we prepared for a couple of days of fun and exercise. At the appointed time we arrived at the trailhead where our trek was to begin. There were twelve of us total, nine adults and three children around the age of ten months old. The resident father figure who accompanied us had rented a snowmobile and the rest of us had skis. This was a great relief for me because that meant some of our supplies could be fastened to sleds and pulled behind the snowmobile. After the packs were safely stowed inside the yurt and a fire lit in the stove, the snowmobile would return down the trail to relieve the weary travelers and ferry them deeper into the wilderness.

The weather matched our spirits, which were both unusually on the bright side, as we made our final preparations. We were a little behind schedule but none of us were worried, it was too beautiful a day to weigh oneself down with unnecessary cares. The sleds were tied onto the back of the snowmobile and off he sped. Meanwhile my wife had noticed that the skis and boots she had borrowed from a relative did not match each other, and no amount of force was going to help. Reluctantly, she walked back to the car where one member of our party just happened to have an extra pair of skis that would work. When she returned some of the group had already begun the expedition and three of us anxiously waited. The skis clipped wonderfully into the bindings and off we went. The first strides went smoothly and then I noticed that something did not feel right. My skis seemed to not be sliding but rather gathering the snow. Soon I had four or five inches of snow caked on the bottom of my skis and efficient movement was impossible. I had no choice but to return to the car and retrieve the pair of skis that my wife had just moments before abandoned. Upon my return the first part of our group was nowhere to be seen. That is when we realized that between the four of us who were left, no one had looked at the map which showed the location of our destination. It couldn’t be that hard to find and assuredly the remainder of our group would wait for us eventually.

For me the next few hours were pure physical torture. I greatly underestimated my physical prowess and it showed accordingly. We were going very slowly up the long windy road, as countless snowmobilers zoomed by. It seemed to me that each machine carried a person who was laughing at my every exerted movement. Nevertheless we pressed on.

Suddenly the father figure appeared triumphantly on his noble steed. My spirits rose and I was not so tired, it wouldn’t last much longer. He halted next to us only to report that he had in fact not yet found our destination, but assured us that he was getting close. And with those words he sped off in the direction that he had come. My spirits yet again sank, and on we trudged.

The sun sunk behind the mountain, our valley became encased in shadow and the temperature began to drop. It was at this moment that I believe we began to fear. Not necessarily for us but for the two babies who were being packed on our backs like sacks of potatoes. Surely our location was not much further, and we still had a couple hours of daylight left, before we were engulfed in the blackness of night. We continued up the slopes.

The four of us chatted uncomfortably as we went, avoiding the obvious topics that were at hand. Two of our group appeared behind us; they had taken a wrong turn, and were now on the right path. I took this opportunity to ask for some directions to the yurt, which were given. Look for a guard station, a wooden sign and orange poles. The orange poles mark the path off the road for two miles to the yurt. At last we had some direction. Our friends soon disappeared as they sped off ahead of us. (It was at this point that I was eternally grateful to my group of companions for not leaving me, even though they had the speed to do so.)

Two painful hours later we arrived at the guard station and spotted a wooden sign, and the orange pole. The moon was full and bright, the air was steadily chilling, we were cold tired, and worried. The children were quiet and all seemed still. We discussed turning around and heading for the trailhead. Protect the children and ourselves, surely the others would understand. We had a decision to make and not a lot of time to make it, every minute it was growing colder and our hopes were sinking. What to do…..

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year.....

I love the Christmas season. For me it's so fun to try to find the perfect present for those that are special in your life, and to watch the expressions on their faces when they open it. I love the lights, the sights and the smells, Christmas is just normally a good time of year for me. This last Saturday night I began getting a sniffle and a sore throat. Sunday it became an all out nose turned into a dripping facuet, body aching full blown cold. So do I do the sensible thing and sleep all day, nope, not me because I have wonderfully procrastinated my final project which just happens to be due on Monday at noon. So all day Sunday and into the wee hours of Monday morning I slave away. I grab a few hours of sleep and return to my diligence early Monday as I call in sick to work. Anyway to make a long, agonizing story shorter, it is now Friday morning. Having worked the rest of the week and thank goodness for all kinds of drugs I made it to Friday. Now here I sit, nose faucet still in place with a deep walrus sounding cough.(At least the glass swallowing sore throat has stopped) Poor me right. Actually the point of this blog was not to complain but as I wallowed in my own misery I could not help but notice that many others around me are suffering the same fate. My son has ear infections and eye infections, my wife isn't feeling well and her whole family, is currently suffering from all different kinds of ailments. It's enough to make me say bah Humbug! This time of year is no fun. I hope that all of you have missed the creepy crawling bugs of the winter season.

Now that I have rambled and complained I must say that I am still rather enjoying the Christmas spirit. As I gaze into the twinkling lights of our humble, but elegant christmas tree, I think all is not lost. Life is what I will make of it. So to all three of you that will read this, I say to you Merry Christmas, or whatever your respective holiday greetings may be.

Feeling Special on Someone Else's Special Day

The other day I had the opportunity to attend the wedding of one of my best friends. The whole shabang was amazing. I got to hang out with some of my friends and see two of the people that I most care about on their special day. The best thing about the entire day was after the wedding luncheon. The bride and groom stood up and declared that they kept the luncheon to an intimate group of people for a reason. On their happiest day, they wanted to only share it those they feel they really love and know. Then they annouced that they had a gift for us. They proceeded to hand out handwritten cards to everyone present. Written upon these cards was a personal note to each individual, explaining why he/she is a special person to the bride/groom. After reading the card, it made me feel special on their day. This to me was an amazing gesture of kindness and love. After pondering this gesture I have realized just how important it is to express to others around you exactly what role they play in your life, it may change them forever, or at least make them feel special for at least one day.

Do you ever wonder

Do you ever wonder, why you waste time, when you have a million and a half things to do. Is it because anything else is better than what I am supposed to be doing? I don't really know.