Entries in Life

This weekend, I attended my first LUG meeting. It was mostly a social activity, but I was driven to attend so that I could get my keys signed. It was a fun break from the main business of the weekend. Friday, I rented a drywall lift for the weekend. Since the plaster ceiling in our kitchen is falling apart (water damage, natch) and I’m working on the kitchen, this is the perfect time to get it fixed. So, much of Saturday and Sunday afternoon I spent cranking the lift, nailing and drilling. I told my father I was using my new nail gun and he kind of laughed: “Yeah, you probably need a nail gun.” I’m not so hot with a hammer and nails, especially when I’m below what I’m trying to hammer and standing on a ladder. Since nail guns shoot bits of metal at high velocity and come with three times as many warnings about their dangers as they do instructions for use, made sure all the kids were well out of range when I was working with that. And even though I didn’t seem to get much done (I’ve got another weekend of work with drywall coming up), I collapsed into bed Sunday night moaning from exhaustion. Ah well, its good for me.

Today, bought a rope swing for our maple tree in the back yard. This brings the total number of tree “accessories” to three: one swing for Lily, one rope ladder, and one swing for the older kids. In the process of putting up the additional swing, I decided to move the rope ladder. Instead of hanging it so that it hung beneath a limb, I hung it against the trunk of the tree, beside a slightly lower limb. To test it out, I climbed up. Yep, it was a lot easier to get into the tree. Until now, our kids hadn’t really mastered that ladder. They would climb the ladder and sit in it and swing beneath the limb. After I had moved the ladder and tested it, I told Violet, our six-year-old, to give it a try. She did, but she was pretty hesitant. She was constantly checking for where I was. Then her brother, Basil, went up. He did it fairly easily — so easily in fact, that he scared his mother. I was scolded for not standing ready to catch him even though he didn’t really need it. Next Ginger did it. She was pretty swift, too. They took turns playing in with the swing and the ladder while and I talked. After a few minutes, Violet, sitting comfortably in the tree, called down “One time up the tree is all it takes to cure you of all scarediness!” I’ve decided this is my new mantra for home repair. The first small plumbing job is a little scary, but soon you’re replacing toilets and, before, you quite realize what’s happening, you’ve replaced the old corroded galvanized pipes in your house with PEX. The first time you paint a room, you’ll make spots all over the place, but soon you’ll be ripping out non-supporting walls and remodeling the kitchen. Why? Because once you’ve done a little bit, you’re cured “of all scardiness”. In a way, this is kind of like, well, most anything. Configuring networks, programming, home repair, they each seem scary till you dive in and do it. A little experience goes a long way.

I was born in Indiana and, the summer before fourth grade, my family moved to rural Arkansas. If you’ve never been to southern Arkansas, you probably don’t understand the real meaning of “rural”. Driving from Little Rock to El Dorado takes about an hour and a half, but there are miles of road that are trees as far as the eye can see. There are a few run-down towns scattered along the way, but even they seem sparsely populated. Of course, people seem to spread out the further west you go in the U.S., but the difference between Lancaster County “rural” and South Arkansas “rural” is striking. In Lancaster County, you’re always in some township or another, there’s always a town in sight (if the corn isn’t too high) and you’re never alone. South Arkansas is so rural that my Indonesian sister-in-law flatly stated she didn’t realize she was moving to the “jungle”. But I digress. I left Arkansas for the small city of New Orleans. It was then that I began to understand the draw of an “urban” environment. I could go to concerts regularly, walk to shops or work, and eat at a relatively wide variety of restaurants. When I stepped half-way back into the rural environment by moving just outside of Little Rock and then dove in more deeply by moving to Lancaster, I reverted back to my old habits that had been dormant since high school. Quiet, boring days that stretch out forever. A sense of loneliness. And now, I’ve got a job that requires me to go to New York City a couple of times a month. The difference is striking. In Lancaster, people notice if you’re out of place. In New York, there are so many transplants and so many natives, no one really cares if you look odd. They see 20 odd people on the subway every day. In Lancaster, people’s favorite restaurants serve burgers and fries. There isn’t anywhere else to eat, really. Of course, since New York is filled with new people, there is a restaurant for almost every taste. Lancaster shuts down at 9pm. New York is open all the time. I’m still not sure if I’d want to raise my children in New York, but after reading more about the city, after watching children wandering around Manhattan, after seeing a group of 12-year-old skateboarders ride the PATH to New Jersey by themselves, I begin to see the facinating possibilities. And then there’s this: New York is America’s Greenest City. While I’m not much of an eco-nut, the economics of scale that make New York so “green” make things possible that are beyond the scope of comprehension for Lancaster. Still, and I are beginning to adapt to the rural ways. We brought a little of New Orleans with us by buying a Victorian “handy-man’s special” and that provides endless ways to fill up a weekend. It provides tons of Joy, too. I’ve spent my life watching my father expend his seemly boundless energy on various projects around the house and, somehow, along the way I’ve inherited that energy and drive to work (if not all the attention to detail). In fact, a couple of weeks ago, we tore out the wall to the kitchen. has, until tonight, when we put a temporary sink in, been living out her “Little House on the Prarie” fantasy by washing dishes in buckets outside. After we got the sink put in, she said “This feels like a Home!” So, while the city can certainly provide diversions, while it creates an environment thick with creativity, we’ve certainly found ways to make our lives more interesting here. In fact, just came in and told me: “After the kitchen, I have no fear. Let’s do the bathrooms!”