Posts Tagged ‘connections’
Neighborly Advice
In our ongoing consultation with experts about the possible source of water on the basement floor, I reached out to the realtor who found this property for us. She consulted with her cousin who lives in this area and came up with the name of a home inspector for us.
I recognized the name as a neighbor who lives around the corner. He and his wife and one of their sons are the only people who have stopped by our place (1 time) on Halloween night since we moved here in 2012. He recently made a transition from Realtor to Inspector and after a brief phone conversation offered to come look at our place at no charge.
Cyndie quickly baked a batch of small hand pies to share as a thank-you. Turns out his wife is an avid baker. We have invited them to dinner to get to know both of them and visit without the agenda of formally inspecting our house. Informally, who doesn’t “inspect” a home they visit for the first time?
The general consensus about water issues around our house is that the landscaping should be updated to compensate for the settling that has occurred. We came up with nothing definitive to explain why our basement floor got so wet a week or so ago.
I have a new theory regarding the area around the geothermal lines that come up through the concrete floor. Those were added since we moved in and they cut through the slab. I don’t know how tightly that opening was sealed when all their work was done. It’s the first place I’ll check next time it rains.
There’s no rain in the immediate forecast for us. Snow is expected this afternoon, followed by days of Arctic cold temperatures.
A while back I think I mentioned we were going to meet a new volunteer for This Old Horse who wants to connect with horses closer to where she lives. In addition to loving horses, she happens to be a big fan of labyrinths and has a deep passion for trees. She told us her husband was home prepping logs for a house they plan to build on their land.
We intend to invite them for dinner soon, too. Their last name is Asher.
Really.
We are looking forward to making some new connections with folks living on this side of the St. Croix River. That hasn’t happened as often as we’ve hoped it might over the years.
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Prom Night
It might be a little early in the calendar year for the school prom but that’s where we were last night. Cyndie, Elysa, and I made the long drive to the Chanhassen Dinner Theater to attend a performance of “The Prom” because a Hays relation is in a leading role.
Elysa got us discounted tickets provided to MacPhail Center for Music which led to a festive number of connections throughout the evening.
In a wonderful web of fewer than six degrees of association, Cyndie and I met Austin Wahl. See if you can follow this:
- Our friend, Gary Larson hosts periodic music evenings in his home and invited me to play guitar.
- On one of these occasions, we meet his friend, Ned Wahl who also plays guitar.
- We soon learn that Ned already knows our daughter, Elysa through his interactions at MacPhail.
- Ned’s son, Austin takes a position teaching at MacPhail.
Elysa was exchanging greetings with multiple people from MacPhail connections early on. When she said, “This is Austin Wahl,” Cyndie and I exclaimed, “Ned’s son!”
That was a wonderful bonus on top of the main attraction of our night. Monty Hays performs in the role of Emma, an Indiana teen whose prom is canceled because she is a lesbian who wanted to bring her girlfriend as her date.
Monty’s dad is my nephew, Beau Hays, son of my brother, Elliott.
Family resemblance? If not clearly apparent in our faces, the mannerisms tend to be revealing.
We guessed that it has been 13 years since we have seen each other. Beau reminded me that he has yet to visit our place in Wisconsin because he missed the big family gathering in 2014 when a tire blew out on his way here.
We’ll have to remedy that because brief greetings amidst a swirl of energy during the opening weekend at a dinner theater among friends and multiple generations of family relations is a tad chaotic. They need to come to hang out with some horses and linger with us.
Opening night of “The Prom” was Friday but Monty’s parents, Beau and Katy, were out of town until yesterday, so this was their first time seeing the show. We gathered in the bar after the show to greet Monty where emotions ran high at the sight of not only Mom and Dad, but also unexpected relatives.
A rare sighting of these five Hays relations in one place at the same time.
Monty’s performance is stellar and the musical is an entertaining dose of humor, real-life drama, live music, great singing, and impressive dance routines.
A STORY OF LOVE, ACCEPTANCE AND EMBRACING THE PERSON YOU WERE MEANT TO BE!
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Having Connections
When we moved here over ten years ago, we didn’t know anyone in the area. Slowly, we introduced ourselves to our neighbors. We met some contractors who did some work for us. Eventually, I achieved a connection that I was particularly proud of having. I could boast that there was a guy in Beldenville who was, “my welder.”
Now, just because I haven’t needed his services since the initial job he did for me years ago, it doesn’t keep me from bragging about knowing “a guy” who can do big welding jobs for me. Lately, I feel like I’ve been losing connections. I no longer can say, “My boss” or “My coworkers.” I don’t have any.
Cyndie, on the other hand, is adding connections. She now drops phrases in conversation like, “My trauma surgeon” or “My physical therapist says…”
Yesterday, her physical therapist said Cyndie should keep using both of her crutches for at least another week. At their next session, she can review progress to see if she can go to just a single crutch for a time.
It seems obvious if you think about it, but her therapist pointed out that standing on both feet is putting 50% weight on each foot. I was thinking about that as I walked back from the barn last night and figured out I was alternating between 100% and 0% as I stepped my paces up the driveway. For now, Cyndie isn’t supposed to put more than 50% weight on her right ankle.
Interestingly, she is making progress, but her movements since Monday when she met with the surgeon for the follow-up assessment seem a lot worse than how she was moving over the weekend. That is because when she wasn’t putting any weight on her right foot she had gotten very adept at using a knee scooter or leaning on a walker as she whipped around in the house.
Now she is less stable in her movements because she is actually wearing a shoe and putting weight on the right foot. Cyndie got excited the other day because she could see some veins in her foot for the first time since the injury and subsequent swelling that persisted.
Before we know it, she will be renewing a connection with the herd of horses down at the barn again.
I won’t even think of asking her to lift any bales of hay until her physical therapist says it’s allowed.
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Unknown Connections
There is so much music that I feel connected to, a lifetime’s worth, really. More to the point, the songwriters and performing artists. They have shared their creative visions and I have absorbed their renditions, on repeating rotations for years and often decades. Some of the people whose work has resonated for me draw me to want to know more about them.
I am an unabashed fan.
Their music is the most listened to in my library. They become connected to me in the unique way of celebrity, in that they have no idea who I am, but to me, it is as if we have become friends.
Upon fantasizing about how things would go if we suddenly found ourselves hanging out together with no agenda or time constraints, I wonder, would the artists of my liking honestly show any sense of connection with me?
My cat seems to like me in a way that hints at a connection. She also will just as quickly demonstrate total disdain. I guess, in reality, that combination of feelings is mutual.
That creative artist who penned lyrics that trip my trigger of perspectives, curiosities, emotions, longings, or visions of the world probably also chews food with their mouth open or has some other odd characteristic that would sour my attraction.
I could get all stalker-like and make my fanaticism known to them to find out for sure, but it makes much more sense to me that I leave the connection unknown, other than my anonymous contribution to their financial success by buying what they are selling and listening to the product of their genius.
The secret to connecting with an artist, in my opinion, is by not knowing anything about them when you meet. If a connection clicks, it isn’t a result of the preconceived perception one would have in mind. I have been curious to know how celebrities feel about meeting people who have no idea about their fame.
I would guess for really famous people, it would be refreshing.
In this scenario, I hope I wouldn’t end up dissing the person like the way my cat disses me.
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Dream On
I recently had one of those dreams where I awoke with the feeling that it had actually happened. When you dream about someone you know, do you find yourself inclined to tell them about it?
“You were in my dream!”
I struggle with that urge. I usually want to tell the person. It was so real!
But they weren’t involved. It was my mind conjuring a depiction of them. I could just as well imagine a scene with another person while I am wide awake, and then go tell them the details. Seems rather creepy when considered like that.
At the same time, we are all connected. When we think of others, we can strengthen connections with them. Spending time with someone in our dreams creates a strong feeling of connection, but I figure it probably is a lopsided one.
When I experience a dream connection with someone, it ends up commanding my attention for a long time. When I am able to recall the details of a dream that involved a perception of a person I know, it will seem no different to me from memories I have acquired about experiences while awake.
It is not surprising to hear someone questioning themselves over whether they are remembering an actual event or something they dreamed. People have even come up with the generally accepted and universally understood phenomenon of pinching, to establish whether an experience is a dream, or not.
At this point in my life, I don’t usually want to know.
Why spoil the unlimited possibilities of a dream state by checking for reality?
Dream on, I say.
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Precious Weekend
What a fabulous time we had at the Wilkus’ cabin north of Grand Rapids, MN over the weekend. We all marveled over the gift of a friendship connection that feels so natural that time and distance away from each other have no bearing on the comfort and ease we all feel when we are able to spend time together once again.
We hiked woods, boated and swam in the lake, and enjoyed bountiful food with lively social conviviality. It was a truly priceless time together that I will cherish for a long time.
Let’s just see how well I get my mind back on work at the day-job today with all the fine memories still freshly percolating in my head.
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Thank you Barb, Mike, and Ryan!
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Many Connections
Patiently chipping away at tasks this weekend, and attempting to do so mindful of the bigger picture of our dream, to keep the work from becoming burdensome. I’m tired, and I find myself lonesome for Cyndie’s energy for this type of work.
Yesterday morning, I received a surprise call from Cyndie. I had not talked with her much the week prior, as she was burdened with another exceptionally difficult week in Boston, and I expected that she would be out of communication until next Tuesday while she is attending a 4-day Epona Equestrian Services workshop with author Linda Kohanov in Arizona. Cyndie said she found there was a cell signal and couldn’t wait to tell me the wonderful connection she discovered there.
Cyndie was telling Linda about a friend she has in Portugal, a man by the name of Ian. Cyndie reported that Linda’s face suddenly lit up with excitement, “Ian Rowcliffe? You know Ian Rowcliffe!?”
What a treat that discovery must have been. I was lucky to catch Ian online for a brief chat, shortly after my phone call with Cyndie, and passed along the news. Cyndie and I did not know that Ian had been in contact with Linda over the internet.
There appears to be another connection going on for Cyndie. Obviously, with the difficult week she just had in Boston, which in actuality is an extension of the difficult previous months that job is proving to be, that work is the center of her attention as she enters the workshop with horses. These few days in Arizona will be a chance to replenish her energies, but even more pertinent, they may provide knowledge that will be essential to the effort she is putting forth to support Superintendent Carol Johnson in the Boston Public Schools.
It is as if she is trying to do two things at once, train with horses, and work in Boston. Could be that the two things are actually one.
Relative Something 