IT is amazing to see it now (hopefully) much clearer.  I keep saying to my self a certain truism that, “I never do anything I do not want to do.”  I believe it to be easier to deny and stay in a fog.  It kind of gave me shelter from the elements.  Allowed me to function day to day with no penalties.  With no effect.   I know I did not advance but I did get through.  If this is not a game the sole purpose of life is to get to the end.  Game or no game I am ready to play again.

The mind is welling but the spirit is weak.  That describes me to a Tee.  (Ok, I hear those snickers from my followers of the  blog)

“I am bored.” He was not starting out on a good note with that comment.  Personal pet peeve of mine.  I answered, “Well, I like to think of the times that I am alone to be a time spent with someone that is my best friend.  I never(remember I am old)seemed to be bored when I am alone any more.  I do remember the times when it had crossed my lips when I was younger but thanks to the help of my older brother I did not make the mistake of saying it in front of my parents.  Unfortunately Karl did nake mention of being bored and our Father definitely taught young Karl the error of his ways by directing him to proceed post haste into the pasture and collect all the pretty flowers of the dratted weed… the thistle.  It is wonderful little flower that gives new meaning to the saying don’t bite the hand that feeds you.  Poor Karl suffered for a few minutes in the pasture until he was scathed from head to foot.  I cannot remember how many flowers he actually did pick and place in a bag.  No matter… the lesson was a strong one that was learned the first time.

Poor Kellen does not have the aide of an older brother to lead  him through the problems of  young boy as I had had.  His brother spends  a lot of time teasing young Kellen.  It is fun for Kellen but it does not teach him anything other than the fact that his brother is older, smarter, and bigger.  I think that I have tried to convey this same kind of education with my young son, Kellen.  Fortunately… or unfortunatley… he has not made the same immediate grasp of the dire situation that he is in by stating to his father that he is bored.  Remember I am happy to be breathing and laying in a bed.  Boredom only comes to mind when I have nothing to do.  Since Kellen is at my side I really can never say that I do not have nothing to do.  Consequently I want Kellen to understand that the only reason  he is bored is because he chooses.

I hope that Kellen is not as hard headed as his father.  It took me a childhood, three marriages, and cancer to come to an understanding about being bored.  Please young son…don’t do as I did …. do as I say.  Yeah… right…?  I can see some head butting in my future.  I am excited!!

Last year I raised pigmy corn, pigmy stringbeans, and some pretty big butter squash.  Don’t know why the beans and the corn turned pigmy  on me but the butter squash cooked pretty good in the oven,  I am reticent to say that it was the seeds in both the good and the bad crops.  I thought I had fertilized adequately.  I tended to weeds( my likely to the detriment of the vegetables).  I watered faithfully.(What does it mean when the leaves turn brown?)  I am from Iowa where it can go weeks without rain and the gardens still grow.  So I thought that if it was watered regularly with lots of sunshine things would grow by leaps and bounds.  Such was not my experience I am sad to say.  The corn row was a cute little site with its pygmy little stalk and it pigmy little tassel, and of course the pigmy little ear replete with silk at the upper part of the ear.  I never got a brace root.  Possible since I did hill up on a lay by either.(Old farmer talk that my peers might remember).  I heard my Father and uncles all say that in August and my friend, Raymond (Junger) Jungerson,  referred to it many a times during our pinochle games at the town pool hall.

That was one year of work.  Good thing I have no limit on budgeted time.  I tend to be over budget on everything else starting with the bank.  First Federal Home Mortgage & Hage(FFHmM&H) was not even eligible for the federal bail out offered by Obama because even Bernie Madoff told people not to invest in this fly by night outfit.  FFHmM&H is only slightly better shape than dba Knotty Pine Construction (aka K. Hage) a general contracting company and its small but ever growing subsidery,  Kbox Keepsakes.  If you added all the assets of the two companies one would figure that bankrupcy was in its future.

You know the saying that the a boy’s toys do not stop they only get more expensive.  As  a friend of mine once said to me about the tools in his shop, “I have enough tools to make a space ship to the moon with all left handed threads.  I would like to think that way for my shop tools as well.  I said I like to think about it I did not say it was true.  Thank goodness that the First Federal Bank of Ellen(FFBE) had a moment of clarity and helped finance the whole show for another season.  It has been ten years for FFHmM&H and FFBE working hand in hand.  First it started with organization.  FFBE is wonderful on computers and spreadsheets.  It is a good thing too.  Knotty Pine Construction would be dust in the wind with out the ongoing support  of FFBE finacially and providing reciept records to let me know the cost of the project.   It takes a good construction foreman, master mechanic, and surveyor to keep up with the one and a half yard total production for the entire plan.  Maintenance on the lawn tractor, yard vacuum, and two wheeled trailer would cripple a man more than me.  That is why I take it to a mechanic when trouble starts rearing its head.  I have a rare talent.  No matter how big and no matter how long I worked a machine I have always managed to break dpwn.  Never was much good at fixing.  One way to assure that nothing breaks down is to not work the iron.  This is illustrated by the hour meter on my five year old lawn tractor that has less than a hundred hours on it.  It is not even broke in yet.  It takes a good man to purchase something nice like that and not use it.

Yes, it is spring in Central Texas and the flowers are blooming.  Even the ones that I planted weeks ago.  I had a neighbor compliment me the way the flowers were growing in the flower box.  Thank goodness for the weeks of rainy weather because the truth be known if it hadn’t rained I think I would have managed to kill most if not all the flowers by now.  The saving of the flower garden from total mismanagement can be contributed to my complete dislike of work and rainy days in general.  Some people have worked harder than me but I don’t know any one that is harder on themselves then me.  I looked at that garden every over cast morning.  The days of rain kept me from messing with the flower bed.  Now after weeks of rainy weather I am happy to announce that despite my best efforts to completely kill my freshly planted spring flowers they are growing and the neighborhood friendship is too.  Because of the flower garden I met a new neighbor this week.  I sure love spring showers!!

I was the oldster of the crew.  One member was a cohort in the same trucking company as the the friend that invited me and the last man was an entrepreneur of the housing market.  All were married and all were in their thirties with families.  One had nine children.  (Boy did I take a deep breath when I heard that one!)  The common link between us all was the fact that we were there.  I did not even grab a pole the whole time at the camp.  Between keeping the coffee percolator going and tending to the fire by gathering wood I managed to do very little else while continuing to have a good time watching the antics of good friends on a fishing trip.  Each had an embarrassing story to tell about each other.  Always the last topping the former.  Guffaws often turned to tears because our sides hurt from laughter and our smile muscles were getting a work out as well.

Because it is a natural camping area with out any services provided each participant brought a truck load of items.  In fact I ordered items from Cabela’s last evening just because of the fishing weekend.  One can never have enough cast iron when working around a fire pit.  It will be nice to have my ordered items for the Cub Scout crossover ceremony scheduled for the 14th of May upcoming.

The events of the last weekend gave me hope for the future.  It has been said that everyone needs something to look forward to. Always have a plan for the future.  Our family had a plan for this years vacation and it started the next day after our last cruise.  Now the new trip is planned and paid for through family involvement and self sacrifice.  I purchased the items from Cabela’s with a plan for the future.   Kellen’s Cub Scout crossover ceremony will only be one of many in the years to come.  I plan on being at every campout with cast iron in tow.  I also purchased the items for the next time that I go on a guerilla fishing trip in Decautor, Texas with my cruise friend, his cohort and the entrepreneur.  I have something to look forward to outside of family but still in a warm and fun atmosphere.  I think I finally found some Texas friends.  I am truly a lucky fellow.

I have been steadily getting better in my health and wellness of the total body these last months.  I went through a bevy of doctors and tests to come to this part of my life.  Being satisfied has not been one of my motivators in life.  It would seem that the most pronounced  change in my that was the hardest to come to terms with was the fact that it is alright to be satisfied.

It always seemed to me that the message I heard as a youngster from older folks was to work hard and make your mark.  These people were not monetarily rich  yet they seemed happy and content.  Living seemed to be the commonality of all the folks that I recognized as role models.  Living is something to cherish.  It is also something that needs support.  Part of the support needed for living is participation.  When one lacks incentive to participate one loses part of life in the process.  I do not like admitting to this but trying to find an incentive to find my deepest and darkest thoughts were lacking in fortitude and desire.  It is simply easier to do nothing.  Something is lost when one fails to participate.   To bad my latent lazy tendencies started to show when I needed them the least.  Never fear I do believe that I see them far in the background and they are fast approaching invisibility.  Not with out my best efforts to the contrary though.

Which brings to mind my flower garden in front of the house that I planted three weeks ago.  It is 36 square feet of hell that I did to myself.  I remember having to scoop the whole thing into a trailer from a neighbors pile of dirt.  It took several days but I managed to get the little space of hell filled with a foot of good Texas soil. ( IF there is such a thing as good Texas soil compared to Iowa soil.)  The first year we raised pygmy vegetables.  Looked pretty but the yield was minute.  This year I have forgone the possible epicurean rewards for a little bit of color and garden art.  I can’t paint but I do love the vibrant colors of flowers growing against the brilliant green of my lawn.  If the garden were to take a form  or shape it only accents the palate of which it has been set.

First,  I purchased the flowers on a Saturday morning at Lowe’s.  I returned home and placed them in the planter still in their plastic little container.  The placement gave me an idea of how it was going to look.  In my minds eye it was brilliant.  A sculpture in flower petals all the colors of the rainbow.  Then I went in the house and forgot about them.  The next morning we had a frost.  the flowers did not look to good.  They had dried out in the afternoon sun.  Then were beat down by the early  morning frost.  I planted them anyway.  What the heck…?!  I spent the money…??!!  They can’t grow if they are not planted.  They don’t grow well if they are dead either.  Which for all intents and purpose they were dying when I planted them.

After three weeks and one replant I am happy to say that despite my best efforts to kill these flowers off with to much water, tilling,   herbicide, and fertilizer they seem to be growing.  I had fresh flower buds growing from the base of almost every flower.  My flower garden happens to be a good metaphor of my own existence these last few years.  The frost and water happened to be my cancer.  The flowers are me.  The doctors are the tilling.  The chemo and radiation are the herbicide.  My faith, family and friends  are the the fertilizer.  Like the flowers despite my best efforts to foil my recovery I have managed to still be here and growing.  Thanks God for fertilizer.

As mentioned I have a lot of men to look up to when thinking back on my life.  Some light, some fat, some bald, some educated and others self educated.  Most but not all had jobs, family, and everyday life happenings.  Which we all know can be trying and tense.  When I considered these men I had been thinking in my minds eye of a man that is not a long time friend but he certainly is a memorable and honorable man.  You know… the kind that of person that you want to be around because they are so much fun…. a cool guy.  I started thinking of him before I considered the topic.  We met in a school parking lot while we were waiting for our children to get out of school.  As the days progressed we started talking about this and that.  Sooner than later we started leaving the house earlier and earlier to see if the other was wanting to talk.  Realize that we are both retired but he is picking up a grand son and I am picking up my son.  He is twenty years my senior and is excellent health.  Enjoying retirement with his wife that had together operated several businesses in town and she was a real estate agent  full time.

Over the time our friendship grew and my own personal attachment to him became quite strong.  He literally marked the first male friend that I had ever had in Texas.  Come to find out this guy is an avid fisherman.  He and his wife go out fishing two or three days a week.  He eventually invited me out one day when his wife was going to be out of town.  To make a long story short I never had a better day telling tall tails while fishing.  I soon found out that he felt the same way.  I must also mention that Willie( I guess I should mention his name) was a major help in my recovery of cancer after treatments.  He helped me through some tough times while listening to me complain about a pain or lack of energy, or the terrible flem coming from my throat.  I was able to say to him things that I know my wife was getting tired of hearing but I still needed to say.  He was a true friend….He listened.

Something happened to me that made me stay inside my house.  I stopped writing on the blog.  I stopped a lot of things.  Since Christmas I visited with a High School classmate here in Killeen and that is it.  I had become somewhat of a recluse….and enjoying it but feeling guilty (pick a topic/reason now).  Mention anything and I start to feel guilty.  Mention my friend Willie and I start to feel even more guilty.  Somehow,  since before Christmas I did not go to his house, see him at school, or call  Willie on the phone until just the other day.  I had seen his wife in the car many times at school but since the boy’s were coming out  different exits we did not talk much.  Parking at dismissal time is at a premium at our school.  I would walk to school from my house because of it.  We always waved at each other.  One day she waved me to the car while  at a stop sign and  informed me that Willie  was not feeling the best.  I took that information and did nothing for over a week.

Here is the point of this post.  I did nothing.  That in and of itself is not bad.  One can choose to not drink alcohol.  One can choose to not go to college.  In each of these there is an outcome.   Each has their own good and bad points.  Just like this blog I have put off.  I can honestly tell you that I have felt guilty about not writing more(not guilty enough to start but guilty non the less).  I feel even more guilt due to the fact that I did not see Willie when he needed seeing.  I just was not there.  Huh, some friend…. some writer…eh?

Well,  I saw Willie today.  He was worse.  Arthritist  is a terrible disease.  He is swollen from head to toe.  I need to see him more just like I need to write more.  This may not make much sense but I feel less guilty.  Dare I say I feel ….better?  after seeing Willie.  We laughed a little and we talked a lot.  Only this time I did what a friend is supposed to do….Listen.  So with that knowledge I guess I should get to bloggin.  That is what bloggers do…is it not?

It  was last month that I visited with Rex Rockhill and his wife Pam right here in Texas.  They were kind enough to stop and have a cup a coffee at a resturaunt here in Harker Heights.  Two hours have not passed quicker nor was there any problem keeping up the conversation.  I had a wonderful time.   I can only hope that Rex and Pam did as well.  Tripping down the memory lane with former classmates can be fun.  It is in stark contrast to the feeling imparted when considering the death of a classmate in an email.

I cannot remember the first meeting of my friend but I am sure it was in the fall of 1964.  We attended school in Lester,  Iowa that year.  Gosh it was an eye opening experience for this tow headed Norwegian.  We four communities congregating in Lester.  Lotsof new  faces from Alvord and Lester and the new kids from Larchwood and Inwood gathered and became used to each other.  Sam Moser was the big kid of the class.  Tall and dark headed he stood out amoungst the many blonde’s of the class.  Gene Bonyage was another member of that class.  Both would go down in the West Lyon annuls as great athletes but in my estimation these two did what I was unable to do. Stay married to there high school sweethearts.    They have remained married to the same person through these last 40 years.   Kudos to both couples.  I managed to stay married for a while but it took three times.  You know what they say.?  Third times the charm.

Anyway getting emails is a wonderful way to communicate.  IT is fast and simple.  When I opened the email on my computer I knew that it was from Sharon Moser.  I had a smile on my face.  She works in the elementary library where my nephew’s children go to school.  It is always nice to hear of good comments about the young boys.     But this email took the smile off my face quick.  Sharon informed me of our friend , Gene Bonyage,  had passed a day or so ago at his home with family and friends at his side.  He had fought the battle against colon cancer  and it had finally taken its toll on his body.  I am a cancer survivor myself and I have such tremendous empathy for the family of the departed.

Gene was a gregarious sort during high school.  Everyone liked Gene.  He was class President many times,  Emcee of several shows during high school ,  and part of the homecoming royalty our senior year.  He went on to graduate from college raise a family with his wife,  He went on to receive a Masters and a PhD. as the years progressed.  He ended up being a department head at a regional hospital.    I am sure that he was stellar in his work.  It seems so shallow for me to say that I will miss Gene.  I had not seen him since graduation.  That does not mean that I did not think about him.  He was a leading member of the 1969 football team that went 9 wins and 0 losses .  Sam Moser at his tackle position would open the hole and Gene would run through it.   I can say that I was a member of the team that had Gene Bonyage and Sam Moser.  Two of my heroes in life.  They did what I could not do.  They held a job and did not quit.  Both of these men are honorable men.

I have been thinking often of how I would like to be remembered after I die.   Well, if someone remembers me in the same light that I remember Gene Bonyage  then I would rest comfortably.  Here is to Gene Bonyage, a man that made my honorable men’s list, may he rest in peace and be with our Lord in heaven.

It was in the spring here in Texas when Willie and I first met.  I had started walking Kellen,  our son, the four blocks to the school in the morning and back again when school dismissed to give me some exercise, to build up some stamina,  and get out into the elements as a much needed break from the confines of the house while in recovery from cancer treatments.  My wife. Ellen,  had been taking Kellen to school in previous years when I was in Alaska working construction.   As I approached the school that afternnon  for the first time I am hailed by the school crossing guard.  She is a friendly sort named Ellen,  as it happens.  She is a wonderful little lady that is gregarious by nature.  Typical German stock.  It was here at the door of the pickup that the crossing guard was sitting in at the corner of the school parking lot that I met my friend Willie for the first time.

He was a slight built man about 5 ft. 8 in. tall.  He was a dapper dresser.  His white cotton shirt was pressed and creased in all the right places.  His blue jeans were not wrinkled and his shoes were shined.  He had close cropped gray hair with deep dark brown eyes that danced with delight when he laughed.  One could see from his movements that his once athletic frame had seen many a baseball, softball, or city league basketball games.  Some things are not easy to hide.  When Ellen introduced me to Willie as the husband of Ellen Hage he reached out his hand in greeting.  I could tell from the grip of his long supple hands that Willie had a quiet confidence of a man who appeared happy and adjusted.  His smile was warm and quite disarming.  His confidence and friendly nature made quick work of any nervousness or awkwardness upon first acquaintance.

It became the habit of the “parking lot crew”. as we later jokingly referred to each other, to arrive early  just to get in some extra chat time before school was dismissed at 2:45 pm.  Willie is a retired car dealer and Korean War Army Veteran.  Since both of us are retired we had a natural commonality.    It was during these conversations that our friendship blossomed.  While waiting for my child to get out of school I meet a man, who most likely I would have never met had I not had cancer, who would become one of those men in my life that I would like to emulate.  Willie is an honorable man.  High praise  that I limit to but a few.  He really is a man that does what he says and says what he does.  A personal philosophy that I have adopted and find it refreshing to know someone of the same ilk .

More on Wille tomorrow.

Having met recently with a classmate I have been reticent to post on the meeting because of my inability to post pictures of the lunch date.  My wife is at CES(Consumer Electronics Show) in Las Vegas this week.  She is the webmaster in this blogger’s world so that is not going to happen until she gets back from Vegas,  but I am looking forward to posting the meeting and how much it meant to me to have been able to spend time with such a great couple.  I will save the gushing for the real post but suffice to say “ecstatic” only touches the tip of the bountiful harvest of feelings gleaned from the long awaited meeting.

But getting back to reading old blogs…The memories that these recent blog sites bring out in me when I am perusing their archives gives me fodder for future posts.  I certainly am not going to write about the early years since not much was said about those times.  Grandpa Erickson died before I was born and Grandpa Hage died when I was approaching 10 years of age.  No memories of them …really…?  Lots of Aunt and Uncle  memories.  I am thankful.  Cousins on both side of the tree are in abundance.  Farm life…oh yes!!  Looking back it was wonderful and I lived through it.  How …?  Lucky would be the first thing to come to mind.  Blessed is the last thing…I know!!!

I am slowly working towards some subjects that are of interest to me to add to my post count.  There are important people in my life that have made a difference to me.  None of the important people would be considered famous but that does not mean that they are of no less import.  I met a Supreme Court Justice in Juneau in 1973.  He was famous in Alaska.  Pretty good athlete but was on the way down hill physically.  You know the type… the body’s spirit was more than willing but the body’s engine had lost a lot of compression and  could not get a head of steam.  Even though he made court rulings and made an effect on the life of Alaskans he really had no effect on me.  Hmmm ..Let’s see…? slow, short and old?   I am now of that same condition albeit not short… he still has no effect on me other than to marvel that he was still “able” at his age.

So… maybe my life was not full of famous people…. do I consider it bad?  No!   Would I like to hang around Tiger Woods these days? He famous these days.  Not a chance!!   He didn’t do anything that I didn’t do or attempt to do.  I cheated on my first wife.  I spent twenty years hating myself.(so will Tiger!)  I made phone calls to women.!?  I stayed out late and partied!!  But I did not have children and I did not have any money.  Which,  in retrospect,  is probably why I did not do worse things.  It always cost more money than I had.   Mitch Album wrote a book about his meeting with a man who got old and died.  He spoke of the way that this man had lived his life and his involvement with that man.  The story brings out the good things in this not so famous man’s life.  That is what reading blogs is about for me.  Bringing out the good things on the not so famous.  I have lived a life that was full of bad things and I should have known better.  I had a lot of not so famous people to use as a guide.  Even though I choose a life that may have been less than stellar I had wonderful not so famous guides with which I could have used to guide me along the way.  It is with these memories that I will,  in future posts,  start writing about the guides in my life.  All of them are not famous but some of them may be infamous.  Time will tell,  when I write(read) them the “riot act”,  on my blog.  HA!

One morning, years ago in Alaska,  as I was getting verbal instructions for the upcoming days work from my boss and owner of Exclusive Landscaping the construction company in Fairbanks, the elitist in-bred aristocrat entered the construction office smiling and made made reference to landscaping foreman Phil Petman.  The elitist in-bred aristocrat said very seriously, “You know Dan(Dan is the owner) I just left Little Phil.  I talked with him for five minutes and I have never felt better.  It is to bad I cannot put into pill form the feeling that I get after talking with Phil.  He is such a nice guy.   After talking with him you cannot walk away in a bad mood.”  I was dumbfounded.  Hmmm… the  in-bred aristocrat was saying something that I agreed with.  Phil is a very determined, hard working, and completely honorable human being.  He is a peer who should be emulated.  Not everybody’s able…?

As friends go I seemed to have accumulated an odd group.  Not odd in the sense that they are strange but leaning to the ecletic.  I have at least three friends from my industry over thirty years.   One friend in finance, others in education, tourism, business, the health field, military, and police work.   Most of these friendship were born though familiarity.  If you keep going back to the same place  you will eventually meet and like someone.  That is why friends are so special.  The commonality of familiarity makes for warm feelings that, if needed, can last a life time.   The early friendships of my youth give credence to my theory as do the friendships of my days of construction in Alaska.  The early friendships of my youth have been separated by distance, location, employment, and circumstance.  They remain intact for primarily one reason.  Trust.  Now my most recent friends are being tested the same way as the early friendships for they are in Alaska and I am in Texas.  As a construction worker one has a reputation to uphold.  It was never good to be considered wild with the equipment.  Working with humans on the ground with equipment that could and would crush or otherwise maim the ground person is a very serious occupation.  My friends in Alaska have that kind of trust in me.  As the friendships of my youth that are the most enduring have been separated by time and space so are the friends in Alaska experiencing the same dilemma.  Yet the friendships remain strong because of… “trust”…  Not everybody’s able…. ?

Lasting relationships don’t come by accident.  There is always a commonality.  Familiarity becomes a breeding ground for friendships.  Enduring friendships have trust.  Another condition for continuing friendship is “respect.”   This was brought to my attention by a longtime childhood friend, Ruth Johnson.  I had contacted her through the Internet and had asked if she might have a moment or twenty to discuss a situation of which her opinion would have import as to how I deal with a situation.  The conversation went well and she commented on how she appreciated the respect that I had paid her by asking if she would have time to discuss something.  I have always said the I would rather be lucky than good so in this case it was luck that I paid her repect since I knew that the topics to be discussed would be primarily about me this particular phone call so I knew(I guess this is where the respect comes in) that the person that I would be calling needs to be prepared to listen to my whining(Ruth later informed me that I did not whine…I was reticent to agree but finally acquiesced).  The call ended after more time than either one of us expected it to last.  Conversation flowed effortlessly with a comfort that only comes with true friendship.  Not everybody is able…?

Willingness is another factor for a friendship to remain.  Case in point is my recent lunch with Rex and Pam Rockhill from Fairfax.  Virginia.  Rex is a classmate of Ruth Johnson and myself.  He was in Texas visiting his daughter and son-in-law who live in Boerne, Texas during the school Christmas break.  Rex and I had hooked up on Facebook.  We then made tenative arrangements to meet for lunch.  I have to say that I was giddy with excitement.  It had been thirty plus years since their wedding day.  It was the same amount of years since I had seen either of them.  The willingness of Rex and Pam to take the time to come to Harker Heights is another example of  how a friendship can flourish.  Without their willingness I would not have the memory of our lunch together.  Not everybody’s able…!

More on the lunch and hopefully a picture of two in the days to come!!