September 25, 2008
I woke up at 2:00 am last Saturday realizing that I had lost the microbiological battle with the cold virus. I didn't go back to sleep as a result, and then I discovered one of those things that I think only happens because I am getting older. I decided to go to the bathroom to clean the drainage from my nose, and use the facility. That was when I stepped out of the bed, and felt the spear of pain from my foot. Apparently, I had twisted/sprained my ankle while asleep. Well, I am better now. I am young, and I recover. Screw you, you entities that enjoy inflicting random troubles on people...
That is my excuse for not writing in a while, but not the reason I am writing. At the end of last week, I told Annie that I did not like the fact that I find myself working longer hours into the evening, while she busies herself alone. She agreed, and I have made a concerted effort this week. She has been as happy as the proverbial clam as we worked on things around the house this week, and I am practically bursting with pride. We have cleaned out the area where we hope to put the new chicken coop, and she was absolutely stellar. She cut branches with the shears, she hauled huge branches on her own, and all with a smile. She was proud of the accomplishment. If I do nothing else, that is something I want to instill in her. Work hard. Be proud of what you have done.
Yesterday, we hauled the firewood platform up the hill from where it was originally built. She was not really that much help, but she tried, and she was proud. She realized that she could not do much, so she placed herself where she could help direct me. "Daddy, there is a branch over there... Watch out for that stump..." She was dismayed when we had to stop, and frustrated when we did not get as far as she wanted.
Today was the culmination of my pride. I had finished work (for a couple hours, anyway), and we went to borrow the neighbor's tractor. Annie steered it home, but I had her get off while I tried to move the dirt to level the area for the new chicken coop. Did she stand there and twiddle her thumbs? No. If I left an area for any length of time, she attacked it, and started throwing the clods down the hill side. I broke a stump, and she went at it whole-heartedly. She used her hands and feet to finish moving it out of the way. At one point, I told her that I was not very good at the leveling thing. She looked at the area I was working, and said, 'Daddy, just go to where the bumps are, and put the shovel down there.' Good advice. After doing that for a while, she said, 'Maybe now you should use the thing (the blade) on the back.' She was completely right. We made good progress, and she was very proud. In fact, she is a little upset that she will not be here when I finish the job.
She has no problem getting her hands dirty, and she has my face when we start. Stern. Determined. Calculating. Then we do it.
Thank you, God. Your plans may look like screwing me most of the time, but You provided me with the most marvelous daughter. I could not imagine anything better. I'm still ticked at You, but thank You for that one...
Cock-a-doodle-doo...
That is my excuse for not writing in a while, but not the reason I am writing. At the end of last week, I told Annie that I did not like the fact that I find myself working longer hours into the evening, while she busies herself alone. She agreed, and I have made a concerted effort this week. She has been as happy as the proverbial clam as we worked on things around the house this week, and I am practically bursting with pride. We have cleaned out the area where we hope to put the new chicken coop, and she was absolutely stellar. She cut branches with the shears, she hauled huge branches on her own, and all with a smile. She was proud of the accomplishment. If I do nothing else, that is something I want to instill in her. Work hard. Be proud of what you have done.
Yesterday, we hauled the firewood platform up the hill from where it was originally built. She was not really that much help, but she tried, and she was proud. She realized that she could not do much, so she placed herself where she could help direct me. "Daddy, there is a branch over there... Watch out for that stump..." She was dismayed when we had to stop, and frustrated when we did not get as far as she wanted.
Today was the culmination of my pride. I had finished work (for a couple hours, anyway), and we went to borrow the neighbor's tractor. Annie steered it home, but I had her get off while I tried to move the dirt to level the area for the new chicken coop. Did she stand there and twiddle her thumbs? No. If I left an area for any length of time, she attacked it, and started throwing the clods down the hill side. I broke a stump, and she went at it whole-heartedly. She used her hands and feet to finish moving it out of the way. At one point, I told her that I was not very good at the leveling thing. She looked at the area I was working, and said, 'Daddy, just go to where the bumps are, and put the shovel down there.' Good advice. After doing that for a while, she said, 'Maybe now you should use the thing (the blade) on the back.' She was completely right. We made good progress, and she was very proud. In fact, she is a little upset that she will not be here when I finish the job.
She has no problem getting her hands dirty, and she has my face when we start. Stern. Determined. Calculating. Then we do it.
Thank you, God. Your plans may look like screwing me most of the time, but You provided me with the most marvelous daughter. I could not imagine anything better. I'm still ticked at You, but thank You for that one...
Cock-a-doodle-doo...