Posts Tagged ‘friends’
The Best
I recently discovered the concept of referencing the question of where you are from, by asking, “Where is your placenta buried?” I saw it in the article about Vanishing Languages in the latest issue of National Geographic Magazine.
“This is how the Seris ask, Where are you from? Those who were born before hospital births know the exact spot where their afterbirth was placed in the ground, covered in sand and ash, and topped with rocks.“
Mine was a hospital birth, I’m confident in saying. I don’t actually remember it, but I’ve seen pictures that provide pretty good evidence. One image depicts my mother, with two visiting friends gazing down at me (we think it’s me –I’m the 5th of 6 kids, so it could be a sibling), and the two ladies each have a cigarette cradled between two fingers.
It was a long time ago. These things happened back then.
My placenta didn’t get buried anywhere that I am aware of, but on this day, 53-years ago, I parted company from it and began breathing air. Ever since, I have considered myself as being from Eden Prairie, Minnesota.
One of my longest enduring friendships began in Eden Prairie, in 1st grade at the EP public school. Paul Keiski and I were born one day apart. His birthday was yesterday. He’s like an older brother. One day older.
We are both active, athletic guys, but you might not have guessed that would be the case if you saw us back then. We both have memories of having stayed inside during recess, to draw pictures of Batman, Robin, and the Batmobile. I’m sure we were way too naive to imagine our shared activity was laying a foundation for a life-long connection, but it was.
Yesterday, I received the best possible present from Paul. I had forgotten to acknowledge the occasion of his day with a birthday greeting, until an email arrived in my inbox, wishing me a happy birthday. Upon processing the thought that this greeting had arrived a day early, I was struck by the realization that it meant that it was Paul’s birthday! I sent him a note.
His wonderful reply followed shortly, ending with this closure: “Cheers on another year, your present is enclosed. -PK” and the attached image:
That’s just the absolute best!
Got Yucks?
What makes the bike trip so special? It’s definitely the friends who return, year after year, that make this an event that is much more than just a chance to ride bikes.
Thanks to Suzanne for capturing these snapshots of me and a few of my pals, after breakfast in the cafeteria of the 1910 public school of Mellen, WI.
You may not be able to tell how much fun we all have together, from the expressions on our faces, but we love a good laugh.
Our legs might get fatigued after miles of pedaling, but our ribs hurt from gut-busting, tear-springing laughter. How can you not get the giggles exchanging text messages with Julie in the tent next door? Or hearing Rhonda tell the joke about what the bra said to the hat?* And, Busbee Peckermann? …I’m afraid you need to hear Roger explain that one. But, once you hear the story, the mere mention of the name is a guaranteed laugh.
.
*Look it up. The answer is out there on the web… .I’m Home!
It’s always nice to get home again, even though the trip was so much fun that I wish it wouldn’t end. We enjoyed mostly favorable weather, right up until the second-to-the-last day, when a robust thunderstorm swallowed much of our riding time, and left us soaked to the bone.
Earlier in the ride, Jim enlisted the support of the local police to escort us across a high-traffic intersection, and I caught this shot as we started out…
This trip was different for me, in that I have acquired a familiarity with the routine that allows a certain amount of casual planning, yet it had been 2-years since I last participated and I was a bit rusty on some of the details.
I remembered to bring my journal, but I forgot a pencil. I never did get around to buying or borrowing one, so, I didn’t do any writing all week. Maybe I was due for a break.
The good thing about that is, I didn’t fret over it. Just went with the flow.
I am now in the struggle of reorienting my thinking from the carefree mode of vacation, to the responsibilities of taking care of the home and heeding the scheduled events I committed to before I left. What were those, anyway?
The day-job starts up again tomorrow. I better not forget that. The yard at home is in need of attention. I must unpack my camping gear and prepare it for storage.
It is good to be home again, but I already miss the freedom of that open road and the treasure of like-minded friends who make it such a wonderful week-long adventure.
Happy Cycling
My cycling friends invited me to go for a ride yesterday. Six days ago, I was suffering an immobilizing pain in my back. I could hardly stand up. On Monday, I tried to take my therapeutic walk, but couldn’t go but a short distance. I stayed home from work, and scheduled my first-ever acupuncture appointment with no idea what to expect.
It was very simple. After a very brief description of my situation, the practitioner placed needles in various places: ears, arms, hands, legs, and feet, and left me reclining in the dim room amid sounds of flowing water and celestial music. I’ve suffered worse procedures.
I had no idea what I was supposed to feel. It was nothing, if not relaxing. After almost an hour, the needles are removed, and it’s “Have a nice day.” That’s it? I just get up and go now? Okay.
I worked half a day on Tuesday, before I tired of trying to function in a semi-normal fashion. At least I was able to do something. There was definite improvement. By Wednesday, I was able to complete my usual distance of therapeutic walk in the morning, and did all my back exercises.
I had two follow-up acupuncture appointments, on Wednesday and Friday. I was feeling very close to normal function. I had not taken any pain medication beyond one last dose of ibuprofen on Monday morning. I have had zero negative side effects from having acupuncture.
In the past, I have been able to ride a bicycle, even though my back was ailing, so I was willing to try joining my friends for a ride yesterday. However, during my mental preparation for the excursion, I realized that my bike was hanging upside down overhead in the garage. I was going to need to reach above my head and hold that weight at precarious angles to get it down. I’m pretty sure that this falls well into the category of things I’ve been advised not to do.
With some trepidation, I carefully managed the task, bending over multiple times as I prepared my bike and myself for the ride. I pumped up the tires, using my manual pump, thinking the whole time that the motion was probably ill-advised. I removed the front wheel and picked up the bike to hoist it into the back of my car. All accomplished with no problems from my back!
We had a wonderful 20-mile ride on trails from Hopkins to downtown Minneapolis, where we lunched at the legendary east European deli, Kramarczuk’s.
I can think of no reason I shouldn’t give the practice of acupuncture credit for giving me such a quick return to one of the great pleasures of my life. I will gladly continue to do more testing of this judgement.
Decisions, Decisions
Here we are again, with the clocks adjusted ahead, moving dusk beyond the dinner hour. That means darkness is delayed long enough that chores can be prolonged later into the evening. Oh, joy.
I spent the weekend removing wallpaper from 2 bathrooms. I am really glad that is done. Now I am struggling to figure out how to choreograph the next phases of drywall repair and painting. Ideally, the furniture should be moved to a neutral location, but we haven’t got a room that doesn’t need work.
I have no idea where I am going to end up sleeping.
I will likely have to ask the crews doing the work to break the job up and just do portions at a time. That would allow me to empty some rooms by putting everything into a different room that will be done later.
On the surface, that may not seem like too big a deal, but I am here all by myself, and moving furniture alone is an onerous task, especially with degenerating discs in my spine.
It is less than a year now since I suffered the first symptoms of pain from degenerative disc disease, for which “the first line of treatment is usually to avoid aggravating the condition. Modifying activities to preclude lifting of heavy objects and playing sports that require rotating the back (e.g. golf, basketball or football) can be a good first step.” (from Lumbar Degenerative Disc Disease Treatments by Peter F Ullrich, Jr., MD)
On the subject of not playing sports that involve rotating the back (or pounding up and down the hardwood gym floor), I was considering canceling my membership to the sports club where we play our three-times-a-week morning futsal games, and just quitting cold turkey. I had already reduced my attendance to Mondays and Fridays, but since my most recent flare-up, haven’t played for 3-weeks, and I will have plenty of work to do on preparing the house for showings, and will ultimately be moving to a more rural area that will likely pull me away from the games anyway. It seems to me, quitting now would be a logical thing to do.
But… maybe I have played too many years with these guys to just disappear. Something is keeping me from taking that step that would guarantee the conclusion of my participation. Part of me is wondering about the possibility that I might experiment with altering my level of play to become more conscious of how I move during action. I could practice being light on my feet, and deliberate in my attempts. I will be a bit slower, and probably less effective. I’ll finally start acting my age out there. If I learn to play more prudently, I may be able to prolong my opportunities to mingle with a great collection of friends who share my love of soccer.
That is, until we move out to live with horses.
Tolerable Suffering
Now that my routine has returned to a relative normal, post the holidays, I’m going to provide an update on the status of my solo living. Even though it’s been almost 4-months since Cyndie moved east to accept a position with Boston Public Schools, it still feels a bit new. At the same time, it has been long enough to pretty much figure out what works for me. I have been getting my needs met, and am tending to the needs of the household. With only one person messing up the place, shouldn’t I be able to sweep the kitchen half as often? It does not appear to be the case.
For the most part, I am taking advantage of having groceries delivered to the house. I do my food shopping online. Thus far, I am happy with my ability to avoid relying too heavily on restaurants for my sustenance. In fact, I think I am eating out less than when Cyndie was home. Since I don’t automatically have a companion, that seems like a logical outcome to me. I expect it might be different if I was inclined to eat out alone.
The real staple has turned out to be soup from my good friend and fellow Himalayan trekker, Chef Pam Knutson. I buy soup through her Birdsong Soups business out of the Kitchen in the Market facility. I get a quart each week that her husband, John, generously brings to his work in Eden Prairie where I can conveniently pick it up. This has been providing about 4 different meals a week for me. I don’t think I will be able to eat soup out of a can ever again after this experience. What a treat! This is gourmet level eating that seems like it would only be available in fine restaurants, and I have it in my own kitchen! I highly recommend you check out this community supported soup business, Birdsong Soups.
I have also become just a bit more social since Cyndie has moved out, hosting a number of gatherings of friends at the house, and going out with others. Part of that is a result of friends offering to step up to help fill the void. Thank you, friends!
The one thing that isn’t working so well is my being able to touch base with my lovely wife with any regularity. All too often, multiple days pass where we fail to speak or even successfully exchange a text message. You’d think a one-hour time difference wouldn’t be a big deal, but I find it does complicate things, or maybe it just seems to, because Cyndie’s work hours have been ridiculously long. I was shocked to be unable to reach her on a Friday night, nor the entire following Saturday, only to find out she was working both times and had unknowingly dropped her phone under the seat of the car they provided for her use.
I figure I should be nurturing a relationship with the security personnel in her building so I can contact them to find out where she is if I want to speak to her. Nothing can really replace the small talk that has been dashed from our relationship. I miss how she would politely listen to me talk like a little kid about the excitement I enjoyed at soccer in the morning. Yesterday I would have whined to her about the owie I got when I sprained a finger playing around with a basketball in the gym before soccer started. Then I would have bragged about the success we had making multiple one-touch passes to score lots of goals, or mentioned that I forgot to use my asthma inhaler before playing and noticed some suffering as a result. Tolerable, but noticeable suffering.
Kind of like the feeling of suddenly living separated from your beloved spouse of 30 years.
Priceless Friendships!
The fantastic brilliance of life springs forth in everything! It is in the good and the bad, the easy and the difficult. Our greatest lessons do not come from times of calm and collected, easy living. It is the challenges, the trials and tribulations, which produce the gems of outcome that glimmer with the brilliant beauty of our eventual successes in life.
It has been brought to my attention, by friends who care about me, that some of what I write lately is spawning worry about my state of being. I will admit to taking advantage of some of the angst, (created in me by the departure of my lovely wife to the job in Boston), composing some prose that explores the feelings thus produced. To an artist, such fodder is a rich vein to be mined.
I am grateful for the feedback, though, because I was not aware of the level of impression my words were creating. I am richly blessed by friends. In particular, Ian Rowcliffe, who provides me with insights and inspirations through his comments, and his unfailingly positive focus. Also, my good friend, Gary Larson, a champion in helping me take care of myself. Mike Wilkus has been a (mostly) weekly date for dinners out on the town, or movies, or sometimes both. Many special friends from my circle of bicycling buddies, who came over last Saturday, bringing food and good cheer, to watch a movie I’ve been itchin’ to share for weeks. And my morning soccer comrades, who just yesterday were helping me release endorphins with plenty of laughter and cheerful competition.
I am eating very well, despite my disinterest in cooking, getting in my maintenance exercises for my back, and actually enjoying the opportunity to get a taste of living on my own. Being separated from Cyndie isn’t easy, but it isn’t all that hard, either. It is “both / and.”
Part of me just might have been hesitant to portray my situation in too rosy a light, lest I come across as a heartless cad. I fear there could be some ‘splainin’ to do if my wife thought I was having too much fun here without her.
I was telling Gary last night that I am enjoying having some of the rooms in our house become more a reflection of me, as I remove some things that had been put in place for when two people occupied the space. As referenced in yesterday’s poem, the rooms are losing some of Cyndie’s soul, but I see that as a logical step toward our putting this house on the market. When she moves home again, we are envisioning that we will be in a new place, on property with space for horses. I expect the current situation will end up making it easier for us to part with the house we’ve lived in for over 25 years.
Thank you to all friends, new and old, who read me here! I’m hoping you find my travails relative something… preferably something positive!
Short Version
This is one of those moments when I would like to be able to tell you all about the exciting adventures, not the least of which included what went on in my dreams last night, that have occurred for me over the last few days. However, I am still living the adventures, and unlike my studious chronicling of bike trips, Nepal treks, and Portugal paradise visits, I have not been keeping a keen journal of events.
The short version is that we are at the lake with Cyndie’s family and our wonderful community of friends that serve as extended family, playing and relaxing in the beauty of the woods that surround us. Friday we survived a terrific storm that knocked out our electrical power for about 12 hours, mostly the hours we slept. Finding our way to bed was the hardest part, in the total darkness.
The storm released us from oppressive humid heat and the weather is now luxuriously ideal. Today will be the annual games of the US Independence Day celebrations, and the evening will bring a community feast at the lodge.
Otherwise it has been lake play, with boats pulling kids on a variety of fancy floating rafts, resting in the new hammock, walking with Cyndie in her wheelchair, watching cycling and the Women’s World Cup of soccer, and Scrabble games on the iPad.
It goes without saying that the food has been spectacular and plentiful. We are enjoying ourselves immensely. If I had time, I’d tell you about it. The only thing we can think of that could out-do this would be to have successfully landed in Portugal and be visiting our friends, the Rowcliffes, at their Forest Garden Estate.
Yesterday afternoon, Cyndie and I were lounging together on the hammock overlooking the lake as all manner of glee was audible from the kids down on the beach. She had a book and I brought out my laptop. I noticed that our friend, Ian, was logged into gmail, which would support a chat. We were overjoyed to find him available and spent over a half hour visiting, getting a taste of what we were dreaming of achieving before the calamity that postponed the trip. What a pleasure that proved to be for us. We woke up this morning feeling the joy, still.
The amazing power of friendship.
Friend Blessings
I have been blessed with a true friend in Gary Larson, my trekking buddy and cycling comrade, who has welcomed Cyndie and me into his semi-annual gathering of long-time friends for their music parties. Last Saturday we joined the gala event for a fine dinner followed by some spontaneous music making. Dessert was so spectacular that Cyndie paused to capture it in a picture.
It is an interesting challenge for me because I never mastered the finer points of music theory which would allow me to actually know what chords to play for a given key. When attempting to play along with somebody in an unrehearsed performance, I am left to hunt and peck for something that sounds right. They have been polite to accommodate my shortcomings and we forge ahead together for a very enjoyable session.
Here I am with Peter on mandolin and Mike on banjo. We are performing the obligatory opening number… tuning. Since I rarely seem to know what chords to play, my first cheat is to look over at the finger position of the other players. However, if they aren’t playing a guitar tuned the same as mine, what I see doesn’t provide me with information I can use. It adds to the excitement.
One of my favorite things to do is harmonize when singing. It can be a bit tricky since I usually don’t know the words to the songs, and often find myself guessing about the intended melody.
I complicated things a bit on this occasion, since I was well into my little experiment of playing doctor with my asthma condition, and in its untreated state, I was suffering from a compromised lung capacity. (See yesterday’s post, if you haven’t already.)
In a beautiful demonstration of true friendship, Gary called me yesterday, after reading my post, to offer some perspective about treating an affliction like asthma. I was pretty uncomfortable all day long with pressure that felt like someone was sitting on my chest, and my persistent clearing my throat with a regular cough interval, was annoying me for how annoying it must be for everyone else. I decided that as soon as I got home from work, I was going to resume my regular full dose of control medicine that I have been prescribed.
I may not know what my ultimate un-medicated situation would be these days, but I do know that my asthma is treatable. Whether or not I am currently experiencing the worst it would get, I think my experiment has proved well-enough that I am a legitimate candidate for medication to control my condition.
Thank you, Gary, for taking the initiative to call and share your thoughts. It is what a friend would do.
Fun People
Let’s hear it for fun friends. Think about it. People who you consider fun, you probably also think of as being funny. We all benefit from laughter.
This morning, on the weekly television program, CBS Sunday Morning, there was a feature segment on comedian/actor Chris Rock. As it ended, I was left with the feeling that I wanted to have Chris Rock as my friend. That isn’t likely to happen.
I already have many friends that are fun. In an instant, I became aware of how my regular daily activity, especially when my wife is out-of-town, plays out lacking in the people I appreciate for their characteristic of being fun. People who radiate fun energy, cultivate fun attitudes, and display an artistry for being funny.
I have long known that my sports activities provide much more than physical exercise for me. I play sports with fun people. Beyond that small percentage of time every few days each week, I experience a lack of interaction with people who emit beams of the ‘fun’ mojo.
How much of your day-to-day life is lacking in healthy doses of fun people? It is telling to every so often take measure of our relative environment. It provides a reference measurement to highlight our surroundings and bring awareness to the things that are impacting the water we swim in, the air we breathe, the views our eyes see, the words we hear.
I want to increase my daily exposure to fun people. I wonder, do you think Chris Rock would be interested in taking a job in my industry in Minnesota?
Relative Something 
