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In your writing, be strong, defiant, forbearing. Have a point to make and write to it. Dare to say what you want most to say, and say it as plainly as you can. Whether or not you write well, write bravely.
-- Bill Stout
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A month ago, I had bronchitis. To help get better, I felt I should get a vaporizer, so I bought a cold humidifier and put it by my bed. My sinuses have always been kind of screwed up. Not to the point of infection and such, but a mild mess. I can't breathe solely through my nose, and when I sleep, it's mouth agape. I'm known to snore, sometimes pretty vigorously. Well, Patti tells me that since buying the bedside humidifier, I don't snore. A couple of nights ago, I forgot to turn it on, and sure enough, I snored loudly. So if you have a problem snoring, you might want to try this inexpensive solution. It's working for me and I'm better rested when I wake up. |
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 Peas, carrots, lettuce, and green beans. 
Tomatoes and red peppers. 
Watermelon and pumpkin. |
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 One day old... and more hair than me. |
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Carlin, born at 9 lbs and 12 oz, 21 inches long, to Chris and Mackenzie.   Mackenzie is Patti's daughter, and while I am not married to her (yet), I've become part of her family and so where Patti is now Nana, I am Opa. Patti and I were walking through Old Town Spring here in Houston a while back, in a Bavarian shop, and I saw the word Opa on a little gray-haired man doll. I am German in my heritage (born to the Rademacher and Arnswald clans) and so some time later, Patti asked me what I would be called when the baby arrived. "What do you mean?" "Like, Grandpa? Papa? I'll be Nana." "Hmm... never really thought about it." Later that day, I chose Opa. It's German for Grandpa. It's unique. And I've always wanted my own afternoon talk show. So Carlin came to be after a trouble-free birth, and everyone is fine. And me... I'm Opa. ETC: And a picture of the happy family:  |
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Only one thing slows an economy: Uncertainty It halts the flow. Don't know with certainty what's coming in? You're less inclined to allow anything to go out. Uncertainty breeds insecurity, and where insecurity exists, movement falters.In a relationship, there is an economy. There is flow between the two people, along lines of expected giving and receiving. Verbal, physical, and emotional transactions take place according to the health of the relationship economy. Our willingness to "hang out" in the store of the one we're with depends upon how good it feels to remain there and transact. One of the joys of being in the right relationship is a lack of uncertainty. Said another way, consistency is everything. For example, McDonalds succeeds in part because a cheeseburger from the Toledo Mickey D's today is the same cheeseburger I'll get tomorrow is the same cheeseburger I'll get next week from the McDonalds in Houston. There is consistency in the product. Likewise, the way I am treated in a relationship, and the way I treat my partner, should be consistent. The more confidence we have in knowing what to expect and in our enjoyment of how we are treated determines the frequency with which we transact. When Patti walks through the door at the end of the day, she knows how she will be greeted and I know how she will greet me. Smiles, hugs, kisses, and engaged conversation about our respective days... sometimes, I get so excited about her coming home that I stand in the driveway as I know that she nears so that she pulls up to smiling me and I get to see her sooner. In the short 140 days we've known each other, she's never met a different Brett. Today's Brett is tomorrow's Brett is next week's Brett. It gives her the confidence to transact securely and enjoy what she receives and it allows her to give freely as well. As she put it this morning, "I love waking up to you. I love coming home to you. I love my Brett." She has branded "her Brett" because she knows exactly what it is and she loves the association with it. When a store provides a level of service and a quality of product to its customer that spurs personal branding, the store owner makes a mental note to maintain that consistency to retain the customer's loyalty. The highest compliment a store can receive is personal branding: "My JCPenney," or "My Toyota dealer." But if I became moody or stopped smiling when I saw her or somehow changed in a way that reduced her enthusiasm for hanging out in my store, then she won't stop in as often. Her uncertainty in the product and the service will become insecurity, and the red hot flow in the relationship will slow noticeably. Here's to never a recession... |
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 Pea flower :) |
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 Also, I discovered that I can track my daily bike rides on Endomondo. Kinda cool. |
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It occurred to me, and maybe I'm just slow to figure this out, but perhaps the reason for the persistent WH "Tea Party" suspicion and the scrubbing of Islamic Terrorism from the training manuals is because what happens to us in the streets of America isn't a valid threat worth the president's attention - rather, he's more concerned about what might happen to him and his precious government. Islam? Not a threat to him. Tea Party? Scaaaaaary. |
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Earlier today, Patti and I were doing housework together. While we do, we play and sing together. I was working in the kitchen (dishes and granola - see previous post) and she was doing laundry. The song, Desperado, came on my play list and she mentioned that her first beau, Micah, sang that to her in a private moment. In many ways, her previous mentions of Micah were positive and I said to her, "Unselfishly, you know - I wish you two had stayed together. It sounds like you would have avoided a lot of hurt. After your divorce, you two didn't connect?" "We did. I didn't tell you that story?" I didn't recall it, and I'm usually pretty good about that sort of thing. "No, I don't think so," I told her. "When is the last time you heard from him?" "About 3 years ago. We'd reconnected and he'd never married. He lived in Colorado. He told me that he couldn't stop thinking about me, so he flew to Houston." "Wow. Okay - so what happened?" "He pulled up to my house, got out of the car, and I could see it in his face immediately - he couldn't do it." "What do you mean?" "He said to me, 'I'm sorry - I can't do this.' He explained that he couldn't live as a husband, mowing the yard, working the job, being a step-dad - he'd gotten used to his life. He stayed with his family for the weekend and now lives in Tacoma, Washington." I've always pooh-pooh'ed the idea of The One - the person with whom we are perfectly compatible. I figured that there are lots of people out there with whom we can make it work. But after knowing her dating history, and seeing how her daughters and family are taking to me, and how she feels through our relationship, it hit me: I'm the guy. I am her perfect fit. She saw the look on my face. "What's going on, sweetie?" "I'm the guy." She nodded, teary-eyed, "Yes, silly. You're the guy. You're my guy. You're perfect for me." And likewise, she's the girl. We started dating in December, and not once have either of us raised our voices or said anything cross. We've had a couple of "Whoa, wait a minute..." conversations, but it was gentle and we both listened while the other spoke and it was easy. Yesterday, we were driving home from the Kroger and we remarked that we've never had an argument. "Every day is great," we both agreed. It's the most drama-free relationship that either of us has been in. I suppose that's because she's the girl and me, I'm the guy. It's worth getting the fit right. It was just a crazy road to get there. |
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