Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.


by 6 Comments

Music and trucks

Last night I attended a benefit concert in Ann Arbor.  It was a fund raiser to help defray costs incurred by the families of two young people severely injured when their car was rear ended by a semi last week.  (You can read about the crash here.)  Andrew and Alicia are engaged and plan to be married next June.  They are both gifted musicians, and the concert, put together by some of their friends and groups they have played with over the years, was a show of pure love.

They played in a tiny venue that would comfortably hold about 50 people.  I couldn’t count the people there, but the crowd was huge.  Most people stood, packed together, for the entire hour and a half concert.  The windows wouldn’t open and it was hot but no one cared.  Sweat mixed with tears on the faces of the musicians as well as the families.  Lots of us listened with tears in our eyes too.  From the Schubert piano piece, through the cello, the viola, the Argentine guitar, to the Irish band that Andrew preformed with and the folk/jazz group that played songs he had written – it was all beautiful.

I wrote down the chorus of one of Andrew’s songs  because it seemed so relevant at the moment.  The song is a plea to Jesus to answer a young man’s request for a fancy car and a girl:

“I’ve been there for you

When you wanted me to

Please return this one

Jesus don’t run.”

It’s a plea I echo…because if love and music could cure them, these two would be up and dancing in the aisle.  But it’s going to take so much more.  Both have brain injuries, both are mostly unresponsive, both are still in a coma.  We need a pair of miracles here.

The last piece of music played was written by Andrew and is called Lady Lake Michigan.  It talks about missing Lady Lake Michigan’s embrace, the feel of the sand and the water.  The last line, repeated over and over…

“Let me come home.  Let me come home.”

Please God; if you heard the music last night, please let them both come home.


by 21 Comments

Sad and angry at the same time

This morning we learned that one of our co-workers drowned over the weekend.  He sat across the aisle from me, and he and I underwrote jumbo loans, so we collaborated a lot as the program started up and we worked through the first submissions.  We bounced ideas off of each other every day, right up till last Friday.

He was twenty-eight.  A smart young man, he majored in accounting at Michigan State.  We talked about which accounting class was the most difficult for each of us.   We agreed that it was tax accounting and we laughed together at the fact that these days we spend a majority of our time pouring over people’s tax returns.  We talked about real estate a lot; and whenever one or the other of us ran across a particularly beautiful or particularly odd home we’d call the other over to take a look.  Friday afternoon I heard him tell someone that one of the only good things about underwriting jumbo loans was the opportunity to see some truly great houses.

Josh wasn’t always the most prompt employee, but he wasn’t usually more than 15 minutes late.  And he always called if he wasn’t coming in.  So after about 40 minutes when our boss had called back to see if he was in yet I began to worry.  We decided to wait another 30 minutes, then call him at home and wake him up.  We figured we’d tease him about partying too much over the weekend.  We laughed a little at the thought.

You know how you always think the worst has happened when someone doesn’t show up like normal?  And how it’s never that, there’s always some mundane reason why they aren’t where they’re supposed to be?  Well this time the worst happened.  And the world is  minus one very smart, very funny, very patient young man who will never get married, never have kids, never play golf with his brothers or fish with his Dad again.

Josh was a smart young man with a great future.  Josh was also a young man who drank too much at a party and wandered away into the dark alone.   So I’m conflicted.  Early in the morning I was devastated and sad and confused and feeling that life was unfair.  As the day progressed excruciatingly slowly, and we learned more I began to feel the first vestiges of anger.  Because this was so ridiculously stupid.  So not necessary.  So preventable.  We all know not to drink and drive.  But do people recognize they shouldn’t drink and walk?  Alone in the dark in an unfamiliar place?

I don’t know.  I’m exhausted.  I can’t fix all things that are wrong in the world.  And this is just so wrong.  On so many levels.

I’m going to miss my jumbo buddy.  He taught me a lot of good sound underwriting fundamentals.  I wish I could have taught him some good sound thought processes in other areas of his life.  All I can do now is hope he’s living in one of those grand mansions we drooled over.  And that someone can learn a lesson from the tragedy that is Josh’s final story.

Drinking until you’re stupid is life threatening.  Don’t be stupid.  Because those of us left behind – family, friends, even co-workers – just don’t know how to think about stupid when we’re so very sad on the inside.


by 10 Comments

Our tiny little farmer's market

I live in a tiny little town, and this summer the township decided to start a local farmer’s market.  It’s every Sunday morning out at Katie’s favorite park.  So far I haven’t taken her there but this morning I saw several dogs, so maybe next Sunday we’ll both go.

It’s a tiny little market with a half dozen vendors.  I don’t think they’re really local to our township, other than my neighbor who was there selling his crafts.

But the corn and tomatoes were from a farming community not far away.

And when the heritage tomato lady’s bigger tomatoes come in I won’t care where she’s from because they will be delicious!  I bought green beans from her this morning.

I think as more vegetables come into season we’ll see more people stopping by.

I hope so, because there’s nothing better than fresh Michigan corn and tomatoes.  And I wouldn’t want our local market to have to end for lack of participation.

Cause August in Michigan is corn eatin’ time!

 

 


by 14 Comments

Weighty issues

I have struggled with weight for many years.  Took a few pounds off, gained a few pounds plus a few more back.  So in May I finally broke down and joined Weight Watchers.  It’s been OK…I’ve lost 10 pounds, but I’m falling off the wagon again.  The last two weeks have been small gains in weight and I’m discouraged.

This week I really thought I was being good…though I failed to write everything down, and when I do that I know I’m probably eating more than I realize.  But still.  I managed to get out to walk 4 out of 5 work days, and Friday morning when I weighed myself I was down.  I went to bed feeling pretty good about today’s weigh in.

Which is why I was so distraught when I woke up this morning and was heavier by four pounds!?  Four pound?  In one night?  Come ON!

I decided I wasn’t going to go to weigh in, no need to do that when I already knew I was up.  I wasn’t going to sit through a meeting where our leader fancies herself somewhat of a stand up comedian and often just annoys me.  I left the house early, took my WW stuff with me…just in case, and a book to read.  I drove aimlessly looking for a place to sit in the car and read and found myself up at the mall where I used to walk every morning in the days before the full time job.

Well, I said to myself.  I’m here, it’s morning – maybe I can just go for a walk and then I’ll read for awhile.  And maybe eat something really fattening just because what’s the use anyway.  The mall was pretty quiet; not nearly as many walkers as in winter.  I started out and immediately remembered why I enjoyed walking there so much. Energetic music playing, at a tempo perfect for walking, pretty shop windows to look at, carpet and hardwood underfoot.

I did two miles, then hopped back in the car and went to my WW meeting.  Facing reality I stepped on the scale.  I wish I could say I was down, but I wasn’t.  I stayed for the meeting which was  in full swing when I got there.  The topic was not to let little things like the number on the scale get you down and off track.  Today is a new day.  Respect yourself.  Make commitments not excuses.

I was proud that I hadn’t gone off and eaten a fattening breakfast and sulked.  I was proud I walked the two miles and then went to the meeting even though I knew the number on the scale wouldn’t be what I wanted it to be.  I’m glad I mustered the strength not to give in.  Because today’s a new day.  This is a new week.  Next Saturday I KNOW will be a better weigh in.

Meanwhile I think I got a couple pounds off of Katie just by brushing her.  She is not as appreciative of my efforts.


by 17 Comments

Adventure dreams

Katie and I need a real adventure.  We need to travel further, maybe stay overnight somewhere, explore new places, sniff new smells.  But all my creative juices seem to have dried up with the heat.

Katie says she’s willing to go anywhere.  She’s always ready to go Go GO! It’s Mama that can’t figure out where we should head.  And when.

We have company coming in a week or so…and he’s staying for three weeks, so really all adventures will have to be after that.  Katie won’t mind, she’ll have more company to play with her, to heap adoration on her pretty head, to jump at her every whim.  But after that?  Well, she’s going to want to go Go GO!

A princess has to be catered to don’t you know.  So Mama here is open to suggestions.  It needs to be somewhere we can get to and home from in a weekend so Mama doesn’t have to spend any precious vacation days that she is oh so slowly accumulating.

Suggestions?

 


by 16 Comments

Too hot

It’s too hot for excellent adventures.  It’s too hot to play.  It’s too hot to go on a walk.  It’s just too hot.

So Katie would like to remind all of us that it wasn’t that long ago that we thought it was too cold out to play.  Or go on excellent adventures.

Just saying.


by 23 Comments

Talking about scale

I’d been thinking  how to complete the latest assignment over at Scott Thomas’ blog Views Infinitum. Scale is a funny thing, and sometimes I’ve been surprised while looking at photos how little you can really tell about the size of something.  For example, we take so many close up photos of our dogs that it’s hard for everyone else to see how big or small they really are.  But for this assignment I wanted to do something totally different.  So Katie is off the posing hook.

Most of you know I went to the county fair this week. I expected to find some things to photograph at the fair that would show scale.  You know, typical over the top fair stuff.  But out there is one of Michigan’s biggest barns.  I hadn’t thought about the barn when I was considering what to photograph for this assignment, but as I drove by it that evening I knew it was something I should try to capture.

The 14,000 square foot Ellis barn was built in 1848 and used to sit out on our main road next to it’s farm house.  We all drove by it every day and mostly didn’t think about it until the property was sold to a developer for a subdivision.  Then everyone wanted to know what would happen to the structures.  The house was moved toward the back of the property and became part of the new subdivision.  The barn was too huge to move in one piece so it was dismantled in 2004 and rebuilt, board by board, on the Oakland County  fairgrounds.  I hadn’t been to see it in it’s new home before, and I have to say it’s even bigger when you’re up close!

Friday night there were lots of people around to give you some sort of context.  Here’s a shot of the front of the barn.  Can you see the person standing in the doorway?  Or the people sitting under a canopy on the right?  It was difficult to photograph as the sun was going down, shadows were creeping toward the barn, and it was just so darn big!

Here’s a different angle…from the end of the barn, looking up another ramp.

I grew up visiting my grandmother’s farm, hanging out inside barns and I can attest…this is one huge barn!  Perhaps my favorite way of showing the scale of this immense building is to show you the inside.

Even more fascinating than the exhibits inside is the structure itself.  You couldn’t help but stand in awe and gaze up at the giant beams, the height of the roof and the cavernous room that once housed dairy cattle on a working farm.  Thank goodness it was saved, because we won’t see the likes of this again.

And for a more intimate look at scale, do you see the newborn calf curled up underneath his mama?  She’d just given birth to him the day I was at the fair.  I’m sure he didn’t feel all that small to her, but he’s tiny compared to a full grown cow.

I had lots of fun looking for ways to show scale at the county fair.  I hope you enjoyed coming along for the ride!