Posts Tagged ‘change’
Update Mode
I guess we are in update mode. Roofers started arriving to our house before it was even light out yesterday morning. While we are in the midst of getting a new roof, it came to my attention (thank you, Patty) that my Relative Something posts might not be showing up the way they had before on readers’ devices, since a software update forced me to edit in block mode.
When I asked about the widgets in the right margin staying in view all the time, I learned it is related to the WordPress theme I’ve used since 2009, created before block editing became a thing.
Just like our aging roof shingles have forced us into updating, I’m feeling WordPress is succeeding in dragging me, kicking and screaming, into updating the theme I am using for this blog. I took a peek at some options yesterday while our roof was being rocked with banging staplers and scraping pry bars, and ran into more options than my old brain can process. 1,634 Block Themes, to be exact.
It’s going to take me some time to come up with a new look for Relative Something. I hope you will bear with me if you suddenly find things unrecognizable one morning. In the meantime, I’m limping along with this old theme in the new block editor mode.
We have a great crew of hard-working, good-humored guys roaring through the project with an artistic flair that makes it appear like a choreographed dance.
Cyndie and I were thrilled with how well Asher coped with all the chaos of activity and noise. Sure, he had his moments of barking at the arrival of strange vehicles and the number of people he wanted to check out, but he settled down and napped throughout the majority of the noisy day.
They made enough progress on the first day to guarantee they will be able to finish today, barring any unforeseen complications.
The weather certainly isn’t something they need to worry about. Warm sunshine and little wind made for ideal working conditions yesterday, and the forecast for today is expected to be more of the same. Great weather for working outside.
Not particularly inspiring to stay indoors and hunt through WordPress themes for something that I want to define me for the next how-ever-many-years I can make this last. Maybe I’ll settle into that exercise when things return to the usual serenity of our natural surroundings after the roofers are gone and a rainy day arrives to give me a good excuse to not be outside.
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Forced Learning
Here goes nothing. It’s not that I didn’t see this coming. The WordPress software I use to publish this blog has updated again in a way that has made my old mode of composing disappear. The world wants me to use Block mode to create my web pages, but I prefer the Classic mode.
When I selected a host for creating a website for my high school reunion, I had to use Block mode. The “efficiencies” this technology offers are cumbersome to me and do not make it easier to control the way things look.
WordPress offers a block called “Classic Editor” that apparently fools me into thinking I am in classic mode while typing inside one of its “Blocks.” I’m underwhelmed.
Here is my attempt to insert an image:
I was previously able to modify the border width and color, but that feature has disappeared from where I used to find it.
I’m going to pretend I’m not bothered by the software changes, in an attempt to look like the calm and carefree horses in the image above.
There was a little excitement regarding the horses last night when Cyndie received a message that “This Old Horse” has a plan for replacing Mia when she is adopted at the end of this month. Since we don’t know what the plan is, Cyndie will be checking with folks to find out what she can learn.
She is hoping to have a chance to meet the horse before it is brought to our place. I’m thinking about what the dynamics will be like for the other three horses when these changes happen. We will be closing some gates to keep the new horse isolated for a time while they all adjust to the new situation. It’ll be all new for me, as I’ve never been involved with these kinds of changes among members of a herd.
Hopefully, it will be easier for me than getting used to changes in software that eliminate features I used and force new ways of doing things that I don’t find intuitive at all.
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Receiving Notices
For almost 13 years, we have taken our trash and recycling bins down to the end of our driveway on Thursday nights. It has been a good marker for the day of the week, especially since we are no longer employed and struggle to distinguish between weekdays and weekends.
Our trash hauler recently decided to switch the day of the week that they will service our street. It is now one day earlier. No big deal, right? Well, it shouldn’t be, in my mind. However, readjusting a habit that has been in practice for so many years is causing me to feel more confused than ever in sensing where we are in the days of the week.
The weekend keeps feeling one day closer than it actually is. Today is only Thursday, and our trash bin is down by the road, ready to be picked up.
I was busy all day yesterday, mowing grass and weed-whipping around the edges. Toward the latter half of the afternoon, my eyes were driving me nuts. I had to stop several times to remove my sunglasses to rub and wipe my eyes. When I got in the house at the end of the day, my phone had an alert from my weather app. It indicated that any eye irritation occurring during the day was likely due to a high pollen count.
Noted. I was impressed that the app specifically addressed the situation I was dealing with.
We received a notice yesterday that our iCloud storage is getting close to full for the plan we are on. Apple conveniently offers options to address the issue, including ways to delete files we may not need to keep.
It was very easy to eliminate duplicate images in our photo storage. I found it painfully difficult to delete videos. I needed to watch many of them to figure out what they are. After watching a few, I didn’t want to delete any of them.
I’m pretty sure we will end up buying more storage capacity. The declutterer in me scoffs over the thought of paying for a garage space to store excess stuff. Apparently, I don’t hold myself to the same standard when it comes to digital data.
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Emphatic Change
I don’t know if you will be able to tell the difference, but I am not writing from home this morning. Cyndie and I are in a completely different location on a lake in northern Wisconsin near a town with a Coop’s Pizza restaurant that serves one of our favorite crust/sauce/cheese combinations.
Okay, we are up at the lake place again. That shouldn’t be a surprise. I just felt a little mystery would be more interesting than the same old, same old this time around.
One thing is very different up here this visit, though, but it is not mysterious at all. The lodge has been reduced to a tiny shell of its old self.
We watched the beginning of the demolition as we left for home two weeks ago. I’m told they are waiting on some permits before new construction gets underway to replace the portion that was torn down. One of the first challenges will be leveling the floor of the remaining historic portion, aligning it with the fixed position of the fireplace and chimney.
There is a wild dynamic at play, as the massive change of the shared space vanishes so dramatically, yet it doesn’t feel like that big of a deal at this point. I believe this community of six families has grown accustomed to this kind of change over the years and understands how it will ultimately lead to positive outcomes in the long run.
I have a sense that the significance of these changes would have bothered me more when I was younger than I am experiencing today. Maybe not, though. I received an early lesson in this kind of change when the farmland where I lived as a kid was sold for development, stripped of its trees, and hills leveled so it could become an industrial park.
At this point in my life, I’m finding it surprisingly easier to accept “progress” that seems inevitable.
Change is always happening. Sometimes, just a little more emphatically than others.
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Era Ending
Around 59 years ago, a group purchased an old fishing lodge and cabins on a lake in northern Wisconsin to create a vacation spot for their young families. They formed an association known as the Wildwood Lodge Club. There have probably been as many changes occurring in the association as have occurred with the growing families with each passing year.
Not only have member families dropped out and new families have been welcomed in, but individual lives have passed throughout the many years. Many times, tough decisions have been considered, and today we are seeing the most recent changes get underway.
In the late 70s, early 80s, the association divided lots, so instead of all families sharing cabins on a rotating basis, each family would own a specific plot. The association continued to hold the lodge and tennis court plots until the last couple of years. Now, families on the lots adjacent to those significant amenities have purchased them.
Yesterday, demolition began on the least precious portions of the historic old lodge.
Small trees were cleared away to make room for the teardown of the back portion of the lodge. We set out chairs so Cyndie’s mom could watch some of the work as it happened.
The structure was rotting to the point that it didn’t make sense to attempt repairs. The family that took possession of the lodge lot will build a new structure that will offer opportunities for a variety of future uses.
Windows and paneling were removed and saved for reuse in the new construction after the shell of the building is razed.
It definitely feels like the end of an era, but it isn’t really that final. It’s just another step in the 59 years of steps that have happened. They have moved cabins before, and even moved the main private roadway that runs to the end of our peninsula.
In the early 80s, I wrote a song about the changes that happened when families started building their own new “cabins” in place of the original vertical log shacks from the time it was a fishing resort.
It seems just like a week or two
And Fourth of July has come and gone
And I was up at my favorite place
Folks were there to have a good time
Work got done, and we had a good time
Cabins have moved, and new ones are growin’
A place to sleep’s not as easily found
I sit on the porch of what was cabin three
Almost see the beach you never used to see
Tommy and Jane, and Justin, it’s true
Are heard laughin’ and singin’ and workin’ too
It’s Wildwood, Wildwood
It’s been so long, but the change is good
Wildwoo-oo-oo-ooood
The old road don’t go the way it used to go
Nor some people’s car, the way the new one goes
But we all got together and pushed it out
Who says there weren’t games this holiday
When evening came, we gathered ‘round
for the kind of picnic you’re supposed to have
And though people not present were sadly missed
There were fireworks displayed to rival all time
Wildwood, Wildwood
It’s been so long, but the change is good
Wildwoo-oo-oo-ooood
As much as it seems as though it’s really changed
And mud has replaced the sprouts of poison ivy
The swing still swings between two big trees
From which you can still hear the Friswold’s up at cabin three
Hayward’s still a few minutes away
Round Lake’s just as clear as any day
And all the people who have made it what it really is
Are all the people who will make it what it really is
It’s Wildwood, Wildwood
It’s been so long, but the change is good
Wildwoo-oo-oo-ooood
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New Grass
That snow didn’t last 24 hours. It’s almost like it didn’t even happen. Reminds me of what I’ve heard about places in the south, where snow melts away nearly as fast as it arrives.
Looking at that picture, did you notice the difference in the color of the new grass along the driveway compared to the established grass in the foreground? It seems like the new grass never went dormant throughout the winter months. It stayed so green.
I am very curious how the greening of growing things will play out in the weeks ahead. It is never clear to me how deep into the ground the frost is. The top layer has been freezing and thawing and refreezing all winter long. We’ve had a few days where it stayed above freezing overnight but it keeps dropping back again.
When we finally get a continuous span of many nights when it doesn’t freeze, I expect that will kick the greening into gear.
It’s been over a week now that I haven’t had anyone around the house who talks to me with words other than my own reflection in the mirror. I don’t much listen to what the mirror rambles on about.
Asher speaks with his eyes, mostly. Sometimes he whines for attention or barks at squirrels or delivery trucks.
Being alone this long has triggered some random weirdness in me. Yesterday, with little consideration, I decided to put my belt on in the reverse direction from the only way I’ve ever done it before. I don’t know how old I was the first time I put on a belt, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it has been over 50-55 years of doing something only one way.
It’s like brushing your teeth with your non-dominant hand to strengthen or grow new neural connections in the brain. I have never done well with that exercise. Flipping my belt was much easier. I don’t know how doing so might invigorate my neural networks but I was thinking about shaking up the routine of repetitive muscle activity.
Ever since I crash-landed hard on my left shoulder, I’ve felt a bit off balance. My left arm and shoulder have been sore and weaker in the aftermath and it has made me much more aware of use that was previously unconscious. I can’t mindlessly reach to do something with my left arm without receiving a twinge that gets my attention.
Now I have to think about undoing my belt because the buckle is on an unfamiliar side of me. (Just to be unconventional, I have always oriented my belt buckle off-center.) I don’t know what the switch has to do with young green grass, besides both being unusual.
Gives me something to think about, I guess.
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No Plan
Sometimes I don’t have a plan for my day beyond the endless list of possibilities awaiting attention around our property. There are always plenty of things to do around here but my motivation doesn’t always rise to the occasion. Add in weather complications or limits of daylight and plans are often subject to change.
When I don’t have a plan then there is nothing to change. I did successfully accomplish a combination of driveway raking and grass mowing yesterday, so that felt like a win. I pushed the ol’ Greenworks lawn tractor to the single digits of battery percentage, making it back to the garage without needing to go get a spare battery.
While raking dirt near the road I was interrupted by the daily mail carrier delivery, a special US Postal package delivery, and a visit with our neighbor to the south. I think he is happy to see our property being well-tended. He always expresses a belief that we should be riding our horses and then regales an oft-repeated tale of the retired racehorses his friend had that were sway-backed beyond belief. They both lived into their 40s he tells us, I think as a way of suggesting ours may enjoy similar longevity.
Yesterday, Cyndie noticed that Swings has a “chunk” of her hoof broken in a way neither of us have seen before. She checked with This Old Horse and learned it wasn’t a cause for major concern. Other than that, I think the herd is showing signs of enjoying the gentle transition toward fall as our temperatures have started to moderate and the hours of daylight are shrinking.
I asked my neighbor if he expected good fall colors this year since we are seeing fewer hints of change than in previous seasons. He said the dryness we are suffering will likely bring good colors and the lack of change so far is just because it’s early yet.
It feels to me like the dry spell is shriveling leaves to brown more than triggering a color change thus far. Time will tell.
I won’t plan for spectacular fall colors and see if that helps. A failure to plan is a plan to fail, no?
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Aging Club
Wildwood Lodge Club started in 1966. The first generation is dwindling and of the six current families, only three are original. 
The club is in its 57th year but the buildings have been around since 1919. It was a fishing lodge when the eleven original Twin Cities families bought it and formed the club. The children of the first generation have taken over decision-making responsibilities, significantly increasing the number of minds that need to come to a consensus on management.
One of the biggest issues looming is the integrity of the main lodge building which has kitchen facilities and restaurant-style seating. The foundation is failing and the floor is rotting. The repair costs are unpredictable and hard to justify.
The ramifications tend to ripple all the way out to shaking the visions of what the future of the club might be like for the 3rd generation and beyond. With each generation, the added number of invested people complicates almost all decisions, particularly ones needing consensus for managing association business.
There are no easy answers and we can feel that. Gathering at the beach yesterday to remove the winter’s worth of leaf accumulation and arrange chairs, paddleboards, kayaks, a canoe, a small fishing boat, and several sailboats, talk informally wanders to the issues that aren’t easily resolved.
Thank goodness the precious people who are the extended family of Wildwood are the true core of what defines this club. There is no shortage of fun and laughter despite all the tough decisions looming. Dinner at each house is a delicious mix of wonderful stories and good food. Wandering next door for a visit is a guaranteed party. The north woods surrounding the lake is a vacation paradise.
Last night’s corn on the cob tasted like August. I don’t know where it was grown or how long ago it was picked, but someone did an amazing job of providing an end product that defied my sense of time and logistics.
My luck at our multiple card games has been nothing but bad, however, the fun quotient is as present as ever.
We don’t know what the future may bring, but just because the club is aging doesn’t mean it can’t last. There are plenty of possibilities and I am confident this group will eventually figure out a way to adapt and endure.
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Biggest Difference
We jumped on the inspiration yesterday and rearranged the furniture in our main living area. When all was said and done, the change ended up being rather minimal. Cyndie and I agree that the biggest difference is that the room received the deepest cleaning it has had since we moved in.
Before:
After:
One of the changes that satisfy my sense of order is that I was able to reposition the rug so it is centered in the middle of the fireplace.
After a night’s sleep, we are pleased to find our initial response to the change is that we are okay with it. I am satisfied that neither of us is finding the new layout totally unacceptable.
It doesn’t hurt that the rug and floor are ridiculously clean. The true test will be if we still like the seating after a few weeks of dust and debris settle back into the nooks and crannies that the vacuum misses.
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Vague Correlation
In the groggy haze between a flurry of typically weird morning dreams earlier today, my mind suddenly conjured an image of the furniture in front of our fireplace rearranged into a new layout. Where did that come from?
I’m guessing it might have to do with a series of photos Cyndie showed me last night from the period before we closed on the property. Some were from a visit she and her mom had done to take measurements of rooms. There was still some furnishings from the sellers in several of those pictures.
Others showed the main living space completely clear of any furniture.
Upon mentioning my surprising semi-conscious visuals to Cyndie this morning, she was quick to react with a willingness to do some experimenting. She has made minor changes over the years, depending on events we were hosting or when making space for a Christmas tree, but we have yet to move the couch from where it was placed against the spiral staircase in the fall of 2012.
This is how the space looks this morning:
In my logic, settling on a new arrangement will require more than one try, so I don’t expect to be entirely satisfied with the first new layout. To give any change a fair chance, we will need to allow some time to pass for getting use to it. I have a strong suspicion I will be inclined to push toward returning to what we have now. There are good reasons this has worked for us for over ten years.
In the mean time, I am in a mood that has me open to some creative reimagining of our living space, so we hope to act while the motivation is fresh.
Or not. It is not lost on me that it will be a whole lot easier if I just picture potential changes in my mind and then lay down for a nap.
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