My Sonance

Flying Buildings

2010-02-22T19:21:00.001-08:00

Jets shouldn’t be in the air. I mean, it’s crazy. Do you know just how huge these things are? There’s no way they should be able to get off the ground.

I do know some of the physics behind it, lift and drag and thrust and all. That makes sense. But even knowing the fundamentals does little to subdue my amazement seeing the results of applying these physics to a large hunk of metal. Aerodynamics works on a paper airplane quite well. Heck, it works great on a little foam airplane too! Jets are just too big.

What if large buildings could fly?

I would be flabbergasted to see this, and only partly because I don’t know of any physical law that could induce levitation and subsequent forward movement of a building.

That doesn’t mean this mystery law is non-existent… it could be hiding somewhere around our universe, waiting to be discovered like many of the other physical laws were at one time.

A little magnet can levitate and move, and there are other things which can seem to “float” on air and not utilize aerodynamics. So like I can accept the flying paper airplane I can accept this. But also like the paper airplane, we can scale up the little floating magnet so it could help a large building in its attempts to levitate or even fly. But imagine no magnet, no aerodynamics. Just a building quietly (ominously) floating, moving, flying. Wow.

Just Sugar

2010-02-21T12:29:00.001-08:00

(originally written Friday, February 19, 2010)

I don’t put cream in my coffee, nor any other milk or pseudo-milk product, just lots of sugar. Like, two and a half teaspoons in a large cup. Coffee fascinates me. It has such an invigorating, rich smell, and combined with its heat makes for a very inviting morning drink. Or in this case, a comforting bitter balance for an evening’s dessert of chocolate cake… in a subdued restaurant overlooking Rideau Street in Ottawa in February.

“Nursing a cup”

We do, don’t we? We lovingly cradle the warm cup in our hands, soaking in the radiant heat, somehow warming our souls through our fingertips.

There is such a wide variety of sorts of sugar. Given the choice I will take the larger-grained “raw” sugar or “natural” sugar. Not because I think it is more healthy or classy, though these could be valid reasons. I like how it looks. And I love it when pastries and other baking have large crunchy sugar crystals on the top, or in them. Yet neither of these qualities make this coffee any different for me than using regular, white sugar. The crunchiness dissolves. The looks are lost. And logically, smaller-grained sugar dissolves quicker, so that would be the most efficient sugar to use. So there’s really no proper reason for me to use the raw sugar when given the choice. And that’s just one of the reasons coffee holds its mystery for me.

To Know

2010-02-20T19:41:00.001-08:00

I just don’t know. Seriously. There are increasingly, more things I don’t know. I keep learning, but at a much slower rate than the increase of things there are to learn.

We all think we know more than we actually do, and when we learn a new thing it can humble us. That is, it often opens our eyes a tiny bit more to what else is out there, and that usually we’re not breaking completely new ground, and that there are a lot more people who know a lot more than we do.

Sure, “knowledge is power” but power to do what? Power to do more, but also power to learn more. Knowledge can make one proud but really it should humble the learner… the more knowledge one has the more she knows she is lacking it.

The more power, space, resources one has to learn, the more the smallness of their current knowledge becomes evident.

I’m no scientist, geologist, nor can I be accused of studying things like the composition of the planets… in particular, Earth. In my humble position of relatively low knowledge I wonder how those with far more education on the topic could be as certain as they are about what’s far below our feet. Let’s face it; nobody’s been down there. True, the further we drill, the hotter it gets. And the amount of gravity the Earth has relates to its mass. And there are massive magnetic fields that surround our planet. So if deep down the Earth had at its core another, smaller planet-like ball populated with its own ecosystem, atmosphere, and taxation structure the most educated would probably be the most surprised. Even I would be surprised, as I would have figured the geologists and scientists were probably right before. And we would all feel a bunch more humble… once again schooled by yet another unexpected reality in our “known” universe… once again presented with another whole pile of things to learn. And the cycle goes on.

I get the idea that we were made to learn.

Well, sometimes it seems that some people weren’t. They pride themselves on their ignorance… of course they do! If they started learning, they would be humbled. I’m not really sure if it’s some part of the brain that’s gone wrong or whether it never really was functional to any degree beyond what was necessary to absorb just to survive. Regardless, it’s sad to encounter.

Knowledge can empower the consumer to contribute and create.

We all consume at some point. We consume oxygen, food, emotions, information, ink, paper, raw materials, and finished goods. We contribute carbon dioxide, waste, information, ideas, theories, music, emotions, and finished products.

Of course we don’t need a lot of knowledge to contribute or create. It can help us contribute more effectively or be more innovative in our creating, however. I want to create and contribute more… and maybe consume less.

Too many candles, not enough flame

2010-01-28T11:22:00.001-08:00

As I work in my most productive environment (home office, multiple computers, five screens, ocean sounds) I wonder what sort of efficiency mess I have gotten myself into.

Part of me pushes for the impossible… and beyond. That part of me subconsciously figures I can do what it would take about 3.5 other people to do in any given space of work time. And it’s usually very, very wrong. But it does push me to considerable lengths while increasing my efficiency and productivity. The other part of me, that has to actually DO the work, spends about 90% of the time underwater… gasping for breath in-between new Niagra-like waterfalls of work being loaded on.

So I get a larger monitor. And add a second one. To both computers. And another one for a test computer, also used for system configurations, server builds, and so on. And then a whiteboard. And a small one. Then I work on all the more intricate efficiencies that I add to my methodologies in remote support for business networks.

Now I can’t leave this place. And when I have to, it’s insane to see how much work piles up. I’ve built an efficient environment and set of methodologies with which to work most productively, but doesn’t leave any room for added work or anything to disrupt that environment.

Now to find ways to climb out of the hole… to retain efficiency but somehow reduce workload to leave gaps for the inevitable requests… “can you ‘just’ check on this for me”… (how I hate that word, “just”… seems that most people think that most requests really don’t take much forethought, planning, and sensitivity to best practices and overall design).

That’s my rant for the day. Back underwater now.

Deceit and the Glory Thief

2009-12-23T08:37:00.001-08:00

Staci and I have vowed to never lie to our girls. There are things that we won’t tell them, or maybe not fully expound on as they aren’t yet ready or strong enough to understand them, but we explain that too. And they trust us with their little hearts. They believe what we tell them. They know that we sometimes make mistakes, but overall we are the two people in the entire world that they will believe over anyone else.

And that is a responsibility whose weight can increase the more I think about it…

We don’t bring Santa Claus into our Christmas celebrations, and here are the main reasons why (I thought I had written about this in Christmas past, but looking back I saw I hadn’t yet).

Rule #1 – Don’t lie to our kids

We teach our kids about the real Saint Nicholas, and about the kindness he showed to people around him. We also teach them about the concept of today’s Santa Claus, and that he is not real. The men dressed up in Santa costumes in the malls are just regular men, and different ones at different malls in different cities. The truth is, there is no such thing as Santa Claus today, and all of us adults know this to be true. This is the truth we tell our girls.

If we had told our girls about Santa Claus in the way he is believed in by many little children in our culture, they would believe that Santa Claus gives them gifts at Christmas, receives their requests (and sometimes grants them), is somewhat omniscient, and flies about in a reindeer-driven sleigh. It’s fine to imagine such things. Our girls have very vivid imaginations and we encourage that. But it’s not fine for me to tell them that these things are real and true. Because one day they will come to learn that these things aren’t real and aren’t true.

We also teach them about a God they cannot see, but who receives their requests (and sometimes grants them), who gives them gifts, and who is omniscient. If they had once believed us about Santa Claus, the tooth fairy, and the Easter bunny and later found all these to be false, what might they think of other things we have told them to be true?

Therein lay the main reason Santa Claus isn’t part of our Christmas celebrations.

The Glory Thief

It’s really important for me to have my kids give me the glory for the Christmas gifts that I give them. And for them to also thank God for providing for us to be able to give these gifts in the first place. I would feel robbed if my kids gave Santa Claus my glory, and thanked him for the gifts instead of me. I so love the hugs and happy faces on Christmas day as they excitedly rip into their gifts, from the start knowing from whom they came.

We teach our girls about the significance of gift-giving at Christmas. How that Jesus was the ultimate gift that God could give for us, so that we could be friends with God and one day be with him, together, forever. Similarly, God wants all the thanks, all the glory for the almost-unbelievable sacrificial gift he gave for us.

The conceptual Santa Claus steals Christmas glory each season. It is difficult enough to steer our girls’ attention away from the materialism and marketing around this time of year… we don’t need yet another glory thief.

There is Enough Magic

Christmas time is filled with sparkles and lights and shiny things that so quickly capture the imaginations and hearts of our little ones. It truly is a magical time of the year that forever imprints strong feelings and memories… and in our home we are richly blessed to be able to make those memories wonderful and joyful. Our girls have a mommy and daddy that love each other something crazy, and that love both of them to bits. Our home is a sanctuary… a place of peace and strength amidst so many broken worlds around us… and this is only possible for us because of God’s great miraculous love for us, and his constant involvement in our every day.

My parents created a similar home environment and I was very privileged to be born into their home. And of course I am extremely thankful that they relied on God’s strength to build and keep such a fortress. And though throughout most (if not all) of our childhood our family was technically well below poverty level, we were provided for, and Christmas felt magical every time it came around. We too didn’t invite Santa Claus into our Christmas celebrations. And like our girls, I didn’t feel like I missed out on a thing. I was actually glad I didn’t have to go sit on a stranger’s lap in a mall and get pictures taken with him… I wouldn’t have felt comfortable doing that.

Christmas has enough magic on its own, enough that can distract or enhance the story, the real reason, that we don’t really need another key distracter.

To Sum Up…

So we don’t want to make our kids believe in something that isn’t real. We want their thanks and the glory to go to the right places. We help create joyful, warm, magical Christmas celebrations every year in our home. And we’re more than fine with all that. So are our girls.

Why I Don’t Use an iPhone

2009-11-18T22:25:00.001-08:00

It Isn’t About You

First I have to head off the hate mail, death threats, and horrified gasps. This is why *I* don’t use an iPhone. *Not* why you shouldn’t, nor about anything else you should or shouldn’t do. I am not an Apple-hater… I want all technology to play nice together and get along. You want to talk about how much you love your iPhone and couldn’t live without it? That’s why you have a blog (don’t you?) or a Facebook page where you can write a note about it.

If you love everything iPhone and are still reading this, you must not be part of “The Cult”. But that is really all I’ll say about that… much more should be said but in a different post.

I use the HTC Touch Pro 2 through Telus. There are lots of people who use and love the iPhone, and there is a lot of information available out there telling their stories. Here is mine.

Common Use on my Windows Phone

I use my phone primarily for business, but also a significant amount for personal use. And that might be a key distinguishing reason as to why Windows works better for me. I’m able to do more, with a larger breadth of functionality, and greater compatibility with the rest of my workspace.

My Windows phone wakes me up in the morning with an alarm that sounds even when the phone is muted. This is nice, because my phone is muted all through the night so I’m not bothered by email notifications or phone calls. Sleep is golden, and anything interrupting it generally shunned.

Every few hours my RSS reader is updated with the latest in tech, entertainment, and even a bit of regular news. So it’s ready automatically with fresh news first thing in the morning.

So far, I could do most of this with an iPhone. But here’s where the path really starts to fork… During my workout I use a timer to keep my rest breaks within the proper time limit. And during my rest break while the timer is going I switch to my RSS reader to catch up on news that I want to read (as opposed to being fed whatever is being filtered down through a cable or satellite feed on TV). And if I find something I want to read about in more depth on the next biggest screen (my Windows computer) I can email myself the link. So that’s now running three applications at one time… actually more, because there are other pieces of software running in the background to do yet other tasks, but these three are more foreground apps.

Multitasking

Reminding me of the Mac computers of yore and the days of DOS, the iPhone can run one third-party application at a time. That is, if I had acquired a timer application from the Apps Store, and an RSS reader from the same, I couldn’t run them simultaneously.

After my workout, shower, breakfast I move into the workplace… but not before checking the weather, which although is present also on the iPhone, HTC’s implementation looks much better hands down. You can see a screenshot here, but this doesn’t even show the cool animations that bring in each weather scene as you flick to another city, or just to the weather section.

I run an excellent business time tracking app called TimeTTracker MX on my phone. It also has a desktop counterpart, and they synchronize nicely. I’m able to rapidly switch to multiple timers, different customers, depending on the demands of my work day. I might be running my RSS reader, time tracker, email, Excel (true Microsoft Excel on the Windows phone allows me to read and edit Excel spreadsheets at no extra charge), Google Maps, or any other host of applications at the same time. I need my timer software to keep running. If it quit randomly when a new app started up, I would have no way of tracking the many tasks I need to perform through the day and no effective way of billing various customers for work only relevant to them.

Yes, there are time tracking apps for the iPhone. But I have yet to come across one that’s as comprehensive as this one, and with the ability to aggregate the data into a central SQL database so that multiple support personnel’s time is more easily managed. It also integrates with QuickBooks if required.

And on Sundays I can have Pocket e-Sword (Bible software) open at the same time as I take notes in Microsoft Word, and not have either app quit while switching to the other.

Or if I’m needing to access secure information stored in SPB Wallet while working with another app I can do so without that app quitting, or SPB Wallet quitting. I want my apps to keep running when I want them to, not to quit because the manufacturer of the phone decided they’d not allow me to run these apps at the same time.

Customization

I have used Windows PDAs and phones for years, and have enjoyed the vast amount of customizations I can do to make the interface act and appear how I want it to. Yes, the core Windows Mobile operating system (especially until this year’s 6.5 release) is antiquated and rather boring. But many apps, often free, are available to customize it to your liking.

Freedom

With my Windows phone I can use the Microsoft Marketplace to acquire apps. But I can also acquire apps from anywhere else as well. In the Windows world things are more open. Apps don’t have to go through an odd approval process that disallows apps that are or appear too similar to ones Apple’s making you use; I can use my web browser to find an app I want, and try it out. I want the freedom to use any app that a developer has made for my phone. I want the freedom to be able to decide whether it suits my needs more than an included app. A couple of notable recent examples are Apple’s refusal to allow users the freedom to run Google Voice (free phone over Internet) or Macromedia Flash (many websites use this, often to distribute video content).

Input Flexibility

I’m able to input text using a variety of methods on my Windows phone:

HTC’s excellent on-screen keyboard… it borrows from the iPhone’s also-excellent soft keyboard.
Handwriting recognition with a stylus
Letter-by-letter rapid recognition with a stylus (“block” recognition)
Physical slide-out, backlit 5-row keyboard

There are also many other innovative input methods that you can install to suit your preferences or requirements. Although the “soft” keyboards on my phone and the iPhone are great, nothing beats a physical keyboard when I have to type out anything more than a sentence or two.

Support

I can remotely connect into a customer’s server, or my home computer, or Windows Home Server from my phone. This has helped me be more responsive to my customers when away from my computer. And I didn’t have to purchase any additional software to do this.

Options

The iPhone is a great phone indeed. But personally, I think its looks are a little dated… I’m not much into the 70s/80s chrome in my gear. And maybe I just want something that looks fresh and more unique, or at least different than what the lemmings have. Again, with Windows phones you have all sorts of formats and choices to work with. HTC with their TouchFLO 3D interface has amazing innovation in their latest phones. And there are all sorts of flavors. I enjoy the choice I have with Windows phones.

Lightweight

When I connect my phone to my computer, I’m able to synchronize additional data such as pictures, videos, time tracking, and SPB Wallet. Microsoft has provided the lightweight ActiveSync in the past, and now with Vista and Windows 7 the Windows Mobile Device Center, which doesn’t strain the resources of a computer. I would be loathe to have to install iTunes, which with each iteration adds far too much bloat to a computer that bogs it down, just to do things like update or backup my phone. I use the beautiful Microsoft Zune software (sample screenshot below) on our computers for media playing and management (I don’t want to go to a spreadsheet-like interface to play my media), so I definitely don’t need iTunes for anything.

Cost

Like most everything Apple, the iPhone is expensive to own. The infamous “Apple tax” needs to be there to feed Apple’s coffers… they make a lot of money from the inflated prices on their hardware and need to in order to stay afloat… that’s the main reason why they don’t allow people to install their operating systems on non-Apple hardware. If you could, much less people would spend the high costs on Apple hardware. So it is with the iPhone. It’s locked down to the one, expensive phone.

Security

The latest iPhone has additional security for the business environment but up until then Apple made untrue claims about the encryption capabilities of the iPhone. Still, there are other security enhancements in VPN (remote connectivity to a workplace) that I get on my phone that aren’t available on the iPhone.

Summary

I work with iPhones in the business environment for some customers, and even recommend them from time to time depending on customer and business needs. I think they are nice looking and well-designed phones, and Apple almost always does excellent industrial design. Their operating system is highly tuned and has spurred on much innovation in the mobile phone space.

But at least at this time, the iPhone doesn’t cut it for my work and personal requirements. I’ve been spoiled by the freedom I have in the Windows platform both in the desktop and mobile space, and have no good reason to give all that up to lock into being able to do less at higher costs.

Getting Over the Top

2009-11-14T21:36:00.001-08:00

Almost nothing is impossible. The impossible just takes a little more time. And effort, and competence, and… sometimes all it needs is a rocket launcher and a handful of grenades.

I’ve often wondered how many people are stuck far behind their dreams under wet blankets of poor management, life situations, taxes, and other seemingly uncontrollable factors. Yes you can change your perspective, gain motivation, and soar beyond your circumstances to reach for your dreams… to meet and exceed your expectations. And then there are those who are relatively satisfied to remain where they are, contributing what they can to society, their family, and their workplace, with little or no desire to change the infrastructure that supports their mindset and their life.

But to those of you – those of us – who get increasingly dissatisfied and irritated with the musty air of complacency… worse yet and more accurately, daily regression, I would like to offer a candle of hope. If I could find one.

Most of us have considered what grandiose things we would accomplish “if I had a million dollars”. Things that include maybe buying a house outright, going on some sweet vacation(s), helping out family, and maybe buying that car of our dreams. And maybe we wouldn’t have to work for the rest of our lives, living off the interest. Well, I’m guessing it would have to be a lot more than a million to make that happen.

But for me, I would want to work. Not because I’m noble, or a workaholic. I would want to refine what I do so that I’m really enjoying it, but work still. A bunch of my million would go to building a business and team of people that have similar passions and interests. I believe there can actually be a company where ideas are respected, people are valued, progress is success, learning is a priority, mentoring is a reality, and teamwork is the framework. I would want people to come to work on Monday morning, looking forward to the things they would inevitably learn that week. And that ideas they present will be seriously considered and many of them incorporated. I would want them to leave on Friday evening with an overall feeling of accomplishment for the week, that has been reinforced by their peers and managers. I would expect great things from my people, as they would expect great things from me, and we all would know that as a team we could accomplish whatever we set our minds to.

Now that’s probably similar to many an entrepreneur's dream, and I’m sure there are companies out there that work like this. Not as many in this locale though… not in my field. Too many times I encounter the small business (in varied fields) that has somehow grown despite its valiant attempts to thwart any positive vertical movement. And the larger it gets it seems to choke out the most important necessities for growth… it’s like a weed with cancer. It can’t help but grow despite the fact it’s killing itself and sucking untold resources from things around it.

But oddly enough these give me hope. I know that if businesses can survive and actually grow by generally ignoring/disrespecting their employees, by offering shoddy products and services, by hemorrhaging efficiency whenever they get the chance, by overloading any worker that even appears productive, by rewarding those who are a strain on the business, by paying employees as little as they can get away with, and overall demotivating as many as they can, that I can one day do far better.

So why not? Why not proceed with the dream? What’s the razor wire?

“If I had a million dollars.”

Under the Floor

2009-11-05T20:12:00.001-08:00

Ever feel like you’re so overloaded or busy that you’ve got to look up to see the bottom? I wonder sometimes how it is that usually we expect “life” to just be like that, because at least in our Western culture it seems to be that way.

In the workplace there is often the taking on of multiple job roles due to factors such as “cost savings” where employees are let go, or where it’s cheaper to get you to wear another hat than hire a new employee. Or we get a more efficient way of doing something, which allows us for more time to take on more. That’s usually what it is for me.

There are really no platitudes that work here. “Work smarter, not harder.” Sure, then you’re smarter and you find all kinds of other issues that need to be dealt with, that you didn’t realize before because you weren’t as smart. Or, now that you’re working smarter, you can tackle TWO buckets at a time to try to bail out the sinking AIRCRAFT CARRIER.

No, something else is at work. Not sure exactly what though, but it seems like it has to do with incompetence, though that might just be my perspective because competence is an important thing with me. I think there is generally a lack of good “systems” in place so people find workarounds. Then when new tasks or requirements are added, new workarounds are added to the existing workarounds. And before you know it, someone’s using a spreadsheet to do what an email program should be doing. And all this trickles down, up, and sideways, and spreads like cancer.

Inefficiencies breed worse inefficiencies and worse still, some folks get so stuck in their rat-infested tangle of workarounds that they won’t accept that there’s a much easier way to do things, that provides less chance for error and gets the job done properly… because, “this is the way we’ve ALWAYS done this.” So what? That somehow means it’s the most efficient way?! But once you open the tangled web, you realize there’s a rabbit hole so deep the wafting scents of Chinese food confuse the whole issue.

Those inefficiencies then block and hamper the efforts of anyone attempting to bring clarity, because unless you’re the owner or empowered to effect institutional change nothing will really change.

And inefficiencies breed unnecessary busyness. But then if we clean up those things, will we just have more “stuff” to fill in their place? Sure. But maybe more interesting stuff. Different stuff. Stuff that you’re passionate about, stuff that keeps you intrigued with your work and with life. I’m all for automating the things that can be, and especially the things that humans aren’t good at, to free time for things that we excel at. I don’t so much mind being busy, so long as it’s busy with stuff that I’m interested in, and passionate about for the most part.

Fresh Morning Walk

2009-10-31T22:59:00.001-07:00

I had a decent sleep last night, and today is our “break” day from working out. But I still had a few threads of sleepiness in me so I thought I’d take the girls on a Fresh Morning Walk. I am starting to get more of a natural “liking” to the after-workout feeling of being more awake and energized…

It was already 11 degrees outside and the sun was shining, lighting everything up so invitingly that who could resist? Of course, I told the girls to dress warm anyway. They had just yesterday pulled out all the winter clothes they were so excited about… as if bringing them out might bring snow sooner. Nevermind, girls, snow will come all too soon, and make us look forward to spring even more fervently. But I let them have their excitement around snow and winter. They have a long time before feeling it’s effect on their safety and free time (i.e. shoveling the driveway), but I digress.

Tasia loves the mountain scenery just outside our front window, so walking along she wanted me to take a picture of it. Something about the low angle of morning and evening sun that really warms up scenes…

We walked to the park, and they asked if we could go in… of course! Who could deny? Then they asked to play on the see-saw, and again I wasn’t about to say no… but it was cute that without planning they both ended up on the one end. So of course I wasn’t staying off the other end:

Fresh Morning Walk. Fall time has its moments.

If They Would Just Obey

2009-10-30T17:12:00.001-07:00

I miss my little family. I’ve been only away for most of the day, and am back now, and the work week is coming to a close. And our girls have needed some more reminding about being considerate with the noise level… oh, and to clean their rooms… again for who knows how many times today…

Don’t get me wrong. These sweet, strong, soft little ones are very well-behaved generally… which doesn’t come naturally, by the way. It has taken a ton of work; they are humans, after all. Still does, and it’s totally worth it.

But I couldn’t help thinking, “If only they would just obey, they would have such a happier day!” We’ve told them this many a time. And pretty much every time, Someone else reminds us at that same instant of the same truth, applying to us.

Isn’t it so true? Obedience yields a settled joy that feels so good.

Sometimes Forgetting

2009-10-29T21:07:00.001-07:00

After this morning’s workout we were on our way upstairs when Katiana started telling me about an apparent problem in a computer game we recently bought for her.

The game is Windosill (www.windosill.com) and is very cool… it has a number of levels to try for free and then it’s $3 to purchase. It’s a quirky puzzle game, just what our girls find intriguing. Brother-in-law David referred us to it. Within 15 minutes of putting it on our girls’ computers, they finished the free levels and asked if we were going to consider buying it.

Well of course we did, and they love it. Today she told me that there was a problem and that she couldn’t get past a level that she had gotten past before. I wondered if maybe she had forgotten a key piece in the puzzle of a level, so I asked her a bit more about it. She tried to explain again, and summarized,

“I think maybe my computer doesn’t remember me.”

When I went upstairs, sure enough; for some reason the game had forgotten it was activated and just needed the activation code entered in again.

I just like the way our girls explain hurdles they run into. Little smarties.

The Windows Mixer

2009-10-27T13:43:00.001-07:00

Starting with Windows Vista a few years ago and continuing in Windows 7 the Windows audio mixer is enhanced to be even smarter, focusing on being “application-specific”. Sometimes one application’s volume is inherently louder than another so this neat enhancement allows you to specifically modify just that one application’s volume.

For example, the current presenter in the web conference I’m attending today is rather quiet so I’ve turned up my system volume. But then everything else is too loud; system notification sounds, Windows Live Messenger sounds, etc. Being that the web conference is held within Internet Explorer, I can just turn up the Internet Explorer slider while all of the other volume sliders stay where they were as you can see above.

You get to this by clicking on your speaker icon near your clock, then selecting the “Mixer” link.

The Child Queen

2009-10-26T12:52:00.001-07:00

I’m sure many little girls fancy themselves to be queens and princesses in their imaginary worlds and kingdoms and castles. Often what passes for a costume, a dress, a shield (we have strong princesses) shows great creativity. What would they do without Scotch tape and scads of paper and play silks, and piles of stuffed animals over whom to lord their authority?

This photo of Tasia, from our recent fall photo shoot, captures my imagination. Tasia’s resting face is captured here. And though the face is at rest, the mind is ever-moving, ever-connecting. She looks like she’s about to make a declaration of some sort… which isn’t unusual dressed up like a princess or not. And though it makes her look just a little bit older, a little more grown-up, she is most definitely still our little Tasia. Photographs crystallize a moment and we are then able to freeze an expression and study it… and imagine. And sometimes they can capture something we might miss in the changing, shifting perspective that is “the present” of our real life, “live” view.

One More To Go…

2009-10-22T23:06:00.001-07:00

Today is Friday.

So there is one more day to satisfy the Curse before the Weekend. The Weekend isn’t all work-free. But it is the Weekend and there are snippets of time where we can spend more focused on our family, maybe hobbies, or things that interest us and provide us with more personal value than what we can mine from most of the working week.

I often have large aspirations for the Weekend. Lots of fun time with my wife and two little girls, maybe go somewhere special for breakfast, maybe get some organization done in my office or music studio, maybe actually play or compose something in the music studio, maybe take some photos, maybe play some games, ~~maybe mow the lawn~~, maybe upgrade my server… So many possibilities that can’t at all possibly all be done in the Weekend.

And then by the time Sunday afternoon/evening rolls around, I’m typically more inspired as I’ve lately not worked weekends and had more time off to rest me brain. But alas, Monday looms. It doesn’t destroy my Sunday, but it does make me long for the time when I will define Monday mornings to be something quite different. Something that my team will actually look forward to.

Benched

2009-10-20T17:04:00.001-07:00

I’ll readily admit I know very little about all professional sports. I’m not going to say I’m proud of it in the way that many Luddites are proud to say they don’t know anything about technology, I just don’t have much interest and there isn’t even enough time in a day with my current work, hobbies, and interests. So when I look at this photo and wish that I were “benched” I’m guessing someone who is a sports fanatic might immediately think of what “benched” means in certain sports, and I guess that’s a little like what I mean too.

I’d like to be benched right there, right now, for a while. “Somewhere Else” often gives me the illusion of taking a break from “Right Here” as if the issues at hand would continue along their merry way, continuing to solve themselves until I return from Somewhere Else.

But alas, they don’t. They pile up, they interrupt, and they demand relentlessly and urgently. So while it can appear that Somewhere Else holds an attraction that provides a break from Right Here in the back of my mind the engines are still turning, just a little slower, creating solutions and addressing issues.

In work environments where you actually have a team or are part of a team this doesn’t have to be as much of a factor. Someone Else can take over most if not all of your work while you’re gone and indeed the issues at hand continue to get resolved.

If you are in such a job, and you enjoy both your work AND your job (two different things), consider yourself extremely fortunate. You are able to enjoy a quality of life most people don’t.

One day I’ll be in such a job.

Aim higher

2009-10-17T12:44:00.001-07:00

Brainstorming is energizing for me. It allows me to dream up the wildest, oddest possibilities to a solution, as far out as they may be, as legal or illegal, in a virtual canvas. Then out of that I can often pull some useful ideas, all legal of course, and make some headway.

Then if I’m brainstorming with another brainstormer, it’s even more engaging, and even more solutions emerge… far more than twice what I could come up with on my own. There’s a synergy that naturally occurs, propelling the minds of two into an exponential sum. Of course, this works best with the brainstorming-type such as my brother-in-law David Ulmer or my wife. Intuitive beings gravitate to out-of-world thinking and ideas.

Another method that often opens up my thinking to wider scopes and landscapes is travelling somewhere bigger, or spending some time in a larger environment. When I see just how much possibility there exists in a larger space I can get inspired to aim higher. Much higher.

One of the downsides of this is that there are so many areas (career-wise and hobby-wise) in which I’m interested, it can fuel the fire in which I already have too many irons. So there is usually a conflict… between what I envision and strive to reach and the reality of having only one body, being constrained to 24 hours a day, and often being constrained by infrastructures run by people who think far too small. Learning to focus on one or two areas instead of five or six might be a skill to employ…

It still doesn’t stop me from aiming even higher, and pushing even harder.

Sustainable Lifestyle

2009-10-16T13:31:00.001-07:00

I have to say I’ve enjoyed this 4 month foray into becoming more fit. Much and many thanks to my wife Staci who helps design my workouts (she’s got personal trainer skillz) and is able to answer any fitness-related question I ask… I have to have a somewhat deep understanding of a thing before I can fully engage.

One reason this has worked so well for me because it’s a lifestyle change, not a temporary diet, temporary burst of workouts, all to reach a particular short-term goal. There’s no question in our minds that we have to work out 6 days per week. It helps that we have some equipment at home, and greatly helps that we can workout together… we help each other get motivated at times.

As well, Staci has done a wonderful job of “cleaning” up our eating. She’s found delicious recipes that often taste better than “normal” recipes, and far better than typical “low-fat” or diet recipes we’ve tried in the past. I used to really enjoy my fill of some greasy food, such as Kentucky Fried Chicken. We’ll still have something like that once in a while, but I can’t handle much of it anymore as my digestive system is no longer used to it.

The eating part of the lifestyle is sustainable. I eat more vegetables, fruit, and less processed foods, but I still have a burger or fried chicken and fries once in a while. It feels different than after eating a more “clean” meal, but I enjoy it occasionally and it’s not a “disallowed” food. I just don’t want it as often or as much in one sitting.

We do a combination of strength training and cardio, alternating days. I enjoy the strength training as well, and have definitely added muscle and definition… it’s amazing to see how rapidly the first 6 weeks or so start showing change.

Now just to somehow make myself go to bed earlier so I have an even more productive and effective day…

Windows Live Writer… very cool.

2009-10-15T20:16:00.001-07:00

I’ve been using Windows Live Writer since the early beta stages to post to Blogger and really enjoy using it. First, it’s free, free, free. But it also downloads the template you’re using on your blog so you get to write your blog post in the same format as your blog uses… true WYSIWYG (“older” folks may remember that term from the days when word processors were DOS-based for the most part, and “What You See Is What You Get” was often a mode you had to switch to).

I also like how it deals with inserting pictures and managing how that will look with text wrapping (or not). And how you can change fonts and formatting and see exactly how that will look as you do it. And it saves your drafts for you automatically, offline, so you can publish them when you wish.

Windows Live Writer is free here: http://download.live.com/writer.

It’s so easy my 7-year-old uses it. Of course, she IS quite smart…

The Hammer One

2009-06-09T20:10:00.001-07:00

Imagine a hammer that only worked on finishing nails. It was smooth, lightweight, and had an ivory stem; it was beautiful, and expensive of course. They called it the Hammer One. It worked on a few different types of finishing nails, sure. But it didn't work on anything else. Literally. Not tent pegs, not wood (used to bump something else into place), not metal, not dowels, not standard nor large nails. You'd have a lot less people with sore thumbs, broken windows, broken heads, and damaged woodwork because the Hammer One simply wouldn't hit anything else.

Some people would absolutely adore the Hammer One. "It's safe!" "I feel cool when I use the Hammer One" "It doesn't wreck things!" "My thumb is happy when I use the Hammer One!" These people would only use finishing nails for most of their hammer needs, and they wouldn't really feel the need nor desire to hammer anything else. And most of them were happy indeed.

But others would use all the other types of hammers out there... because they want to be able to use it for other things as well. They want to be able to pound tent pegs in the ground. They want to use all different kinds and sizes of nails. They want to be able to lightly knock something into place without having to go get a different tool. And sometimes these people would complain about the occasional sore thumb, the broken countertop where the hammer slipped, the mark in the side of the bin they budged with the hammer and a piece of wood.

And there were many, many hammer makers. Some people were confused by the spread of choices. Many would simply buy the cheapest hammer possible. And they would have horrible hammer experiences, if not sooner then for sure later, as you well know you almost always get what you pay for. Sometimes the hammer head would fall off in mid-swing and damage a window. Or the handle would get loose, or the hammer just wouldn't work as well as before. These people started to think there was something wrong with the concept of hammers as a whole.

When they went shopping for yet another cheap hammer they would occasionally come across someone trying to convince them of better quality hammers. But usually it was the cheaper hammers that were the choice. For some reason, the buyers weren't swayed, convinced, nor turned into "quality hammer believers". And the cycle would repeat.

The Hammer One crowd would laugh. They rarely had accidents with the Hammer One… well, they said they "never" had accidents with the Hammer One. The marketing folks had a wonderful time with this. "The Hammer One. Never breaks anything."

They'd crow, "The Hammer One. Amazing innovation." And some of the non-Hammer One crowd was swayed by all the smooth faces and inviting words. And for some of them, the Hammer One was exactly what they needed. They never used a hammer for more than putting up pictures and minor house repairs. Indeed, the Hammer One suited their needs well.

And for some reason, they decided that this was the time to pay a lot of money for a hammer… even though there were a lot of high-quality flexible hammers they could have purchased for even less, back in the day they only believed in cheap hammers.

In reality the Hammer One is not particularly innovative. It's a narrowing of choice and flexibility and thus target market, to achieve a smaller goal. It wasn't completely true that the Hammer One never broke anything. Sometimes it would bend or break finishing nails. Sometimes it fell apart. Sometimes the ivory finish on the stem wore down too quickly and you could see plain cast aluminum underneath. And in very rare cases, would sometimes burst into flame. But usually it performed its limited set of tasks very well.
Should everyone change over to the Hammer One? The Hammer One Marketing Department thinks so. I don't think so. But what is the best choice?

As with everything, it's best to make an educated decision. Know that the Hammer One won't change your life; it won't last forever; it won't make sure you hammer straight; it certainly won't make you cool. Know that it is not infallible; sometimes it actually will refuse to hammer the finishing nails. Understand that you won't be able to use it for the same, wide variety of purposes you're used to with your old hammer. And know that you will have to learn how to use this hammer; it's not as simple to catch on to as the marketing people tell you, and it's different than the hammers you've been used to up until this time.

An irony here is that if the other hammer companies created a limited-capability, stylish-looking hammer and charged more money for it there would be an outcry. But I think it's probably a smart idea. Because it would appeal to the small percentage of people out there for whom one or more of the following statements are true:

They want to have a hammer that, at a glance, indicates social status.
They want to spend more money on a hammer than they have in the past, and continue spending more money on hammer accessories in the future, as long as it's different than their previous hammers.
They don't think they use a hammer for a wide variety of tasks (they may actually not).
They are thirsty for reassurance of an infallible product.

So if you have a Hammer One and love it, that's great! It's not the product for everyone, but just may be the best product for you.

A Place (Part 2)

2008-06-11T22:24:00.000-07:00

A Place.

(continued from previous post at http://mysonance.blogspot.com/2007/01/place.html )

Longing to drink in the source of the Windsong, the Listener closed his eyes in expectant thirst as his descent began.

On the distant side of the Isle, far beyond the Listener's piercing range of sight and behind a giant rock tower, quite another thing was happening. Brilliant threads of incandescent, golden smoke rose almost as high as the rock tower, which itself seemed to nearly brush the wispy clouds overhead, dispersing with them a dank yet heady scent that married with the Windsong's melody…

The Listener continued his passage and when he opened his eyes next he was surprised to see that he was flying well over the top of the Isle now and continuing to the south side of it. The Windsong was never stronger and its melodic murmur never more one with the sweet scents than now… If one were to drop his guard but for a second one would be in danger of becoming forever lost in the Windsong's trance, but the Listener didn't feel any danger...

All at once, the Listener was standing on solid ground on the south side of the Isle. It was as if he was, in one swift, smooth move, plucked out of the air and placed on the sandy shore by some giant hand, though he felt nothing of the sort. The Listener looked down at the soft, black sand that seemed to purposely surrounded his feet and warmed them. There were varied small plants and flowers here and there, mostly of purple, deep blue, and rich emerald green. They softly swayed in concert with the Windsong's breath and if one kept looking in the same spot one might be hypnotized by the slow, unchanging yet random cadence of it all…

The Listener looked around at the beach and saw that it was only a few hundred feet wide at this point, and up ahead he could see the black sand gradually fading into white, but he wasn't sure whether the white was sand or clay. Beyond the white lay long carpets of dark green that surrounded a massive square base of the rock tower…

As he started quietly walking on the soft, black sand he noticed a bright, warm glow in the distance and then at once noticed the moving threads of glowing golden smoke...

He couldn't yet tell the origin of the golden smoke but it appeared to come from the base of the rock tower, where two doorways opened into the solid rock cliffs of the Isle's south side. The base of the tower lay right up against the cliffs, as if it were carved right out of the side of the mountain. But the tower extended higher than the cliffs, as if it had been built separately…

The Listener had passed over the white clay and was walking on the green mossy carpet, entranced by the movement of the golden threads and the heavy scent that seemed to emanate from them. It was at that moment that he first got, or maybe noticed, the unexplainable feeling that he was no longer alone…

As he approached the tower's massive base, and the two doorways leading into the mountain that beckoned silently to him, he stopped to observe the strange markings on the sides of each doorway. The doorways were probably forty or fifty feet high, at least twenty feet wide, and were slightly arched at the top. It looked as if they were made of highly polished and finished wood, with unfamiliar carvings decorating each side, but on closer examination the Listener saw that it was not wood, but some sort of metal that had the color of very dark, ripe cherries. Only thirty feet or so away from the doorways the Listener could still not see what lay beyond, for though there were no doors the outdoor light ventured only a little way beyond the thresholds...

Then he saw the source of the golden threads. On the left and right sides of each doorway there were what looked like large sconce-shaped candle holders, each at least the size of the largest watermelon you had ever seen, made of the same metallic material as the doorways. Burning in each of the four sconces was a large, wildly flickering black flame, though there was no wind, and the gentle Windsong's breeze was not enough to toss a large flame to and fro like that. And high above each flame one or two golden threads would emerge, slowly entwining around itself or another thread as it rose as far as the eye could see.

The scent was so strong at this point yet not stifling; the Listener took some moments to ponder just the one sense. It was almost impossible to describe, but the Listener thought it most smelled like a perfect mix of fresh cedar, toasted cinnamon, wild clover, and chocolate. And though it was thick and strong, it was invigorating and gave the Listener strength, confidence, and clarity.

(to be continued)

Routine

2008-03-12T21:56:00.000-07:00

I never realized the importance of routine until I became a dad.

Pre-dad, I would occasionally hit on a routine and like it, but not necessarily keep it for long. Although, there were little things that I'd do in a consistent way, such as specific steps I'd go through when getting out of the car and locking the doors, or the steps I'd take to get things just so while working on a new computer.

Our girls need routine, and I'm finding now that the more I create routine around my day as well as theirs, the better it seems to go for everyone. Routine has it's disadvantages as well, but for all of the personality types in our household it's the lesser of the two evils.

I was pondering what specifically I liked about routine yesterday while following a little mindless routine. In general I prefer to have something or someone else execute repeatable, repetitive tasks in a specific way… I don't like having to repeat myself much, or induce redundant work into my day. This is especially true in supporting computers and servers at businesses. It's nice to setup automated tasks to take care of as much routine maintenance and backup as possible. Saves my brain for the more challenging and fun stuff.

And that's just it. Even little "life processes" through the day that I follow, if routinized, allow me to follow the processes with less demand from my brain and free up "brain cycles" to think about other, more important things.

Brain cycles are important and expensive. I don't like to waste them on doing repeatable tasks different ways every time.

Blends

2007-09-08T00:57:00.000-07:00

Cold and sharp was the crack that awoke me from the blanket still warm from Summer's Sun and thoughts of the shimmering mirage… it was fading, fading all too quickly…

The Lack had not yet stretched its old fingers quite to my door, but echoing through the forest, impending, calling, warning, it was there. With my thick quilt cocooning me still I walked, barefoot to the door at the wee hour. As I opened it Fall's fresh beginnings whispered through and I inhaled the cool smells of dew and grass and the splashes of color in Sun's rising beams…

The Artist had been here last night and was still at work this morning… the canvas had no bare, forgotten corners. Spring's lush greens and sweet pastels, Summer's flagrant bright deep blues and extravagant contrasts… they were still present in Fall's canvas of fiery orange, livid yellow, and rich wine red. I had to remind myself to take a breath…

I shivered. I was warm in my wrap, the air was cool, but it was the eye's feast that coursed the swell of awe in me. Brilliant liquids spilled, splashed, and deliriously thrown about the landscape in front of me spoke of the Artist's joy, power, and limitless, inspiring creativity…

I knew the Lack was on its way. But Fall, now, is the celebration of Summer… no longer the herald of Winter. And deep down I know that the sparkling crystals, the crisp air, and white blankets hold a special charm of their own, and that the Lack still displays beauty of its own. I also know that I was not made for Winter…

This was barely a taste. A hint. A scent. This was a whisper in the wind, a song in a ripple, a wrinkle in the shadows. The Artist paints, feverishly, desperately, lovingly, hoping to portray, to awaken, to enliven the longing embers whose trails of smoke reach out, up, and longingly to another place, another time, a promise.

Privacy?

2007-08-17T07:32:00.000-07:00

Some people have a false sense of privacy, so when they find out that *gasp* the information they've posted on Facebook is actually located somewhere beyond their local computer they are all of a sudden concerned about "privacy".

There is no privacy. Get used to it. If you've ever come out of your house and transacted with another human being, you've given away some privacy. For years people have given away privacy information to utility companies, banks, stores, credit card companies, etc. and yet balk at shopping online, where their credit card information is sometimes more secure than at the local shopping mall they just went to.

Then some folks think that email communication is completely private. Or that phone communication, or spoken communication on the sidewalk, is private. Hello, folks. If you want privacy, close all your bank and credit card accounts, get rid of all assets connected to your name (car, house, Costco card, etc.), and fake your death. Then move to a 3rd world country, assume an identity that is nameless, and don't talk nor interact with anyone, nor let anyone see you. Ever. Then yes, your privacy is all yours.

What do you think privacy is? And is it more important to you than having relationships with people, helping others, doing your banking online so you have more family time instead of running around all over town trying to find parking when paying bills? Is privacy more important than a credit card, debit card, bank account, investments, and other commerce? Is your privacy more important than the ability to communicate over email and phone?

I'm not going to use the argument that postulates "if you have nothing to hide why do you want privacy," but for some folks it's appropriate. And for everyone else, be aware of these facts:

If you talk to someone, whether your best friend or someone on the elevator, about your opinions, feelings, desires, or what you did yesterday, you are divulging privacy. It could be used against you in the future. Scary thought.
If you walk downtown or into a store or in a parkade it's likely your face has been captured on video. That's private information that is in the hands of potentially millions of people, probably hundreds anyway. Now They know where you've been, on a particular date and time.
If you talk on the phone with someone your conversation is likely recorded somewhere, or could be tapped by anyone from law enforcement agencies to hackers. And this isn't new. It was possible when phones were first invented. Don't have a heart attack.
If you've ever signed up for and used a club card to get points for purchases, you've played right into Their hands. The only purpose for these things is to track your buying habits. To build a personal profile of you to be used by Them, the Marketers.
If you've ever told someone your address, whether friends, banks, or other consumer services such as subscriptions, utilities, or stores, YOU ARE VULNERABLE! Now They know where you live. But wait, if you have a phone number, They know anyway. There's a not-so-new technology called the Phone Book.
If you've ever purchased something from a store using a credit card, now your credit card number, expiry date, and *gasp* SIGNATURE are in the hands of minimum-wage till winners to use as they wish! This was all possible way before the Internet was a gleam in anyone's eye. Better stop willingly giving out that privacy information to credit-starved teens.
If you've ever been to the doctor and divulged some private information about your health, oops. That information is now in the hands of Some Other People now. You trust your doctor? Fine. How about the secretaries, assistants, minimum-wage janitors who clean the place every evening and who can get access to the very insecure paper records that hold all that precious information? Someone really wanting that information could get it far quicker and easier than you think. Basically, your health information is vulnerable. Yikes! Better visit Dr. Nick (Simpsons) next time.
Your Social Insurance Number, income tax information, and all sorts of other information about you exists on government servers and computers all over the country, and many times outside of the country too. There have been, and will continue to be, breaches of that information due to hackers, loss of unsecured data on an employee's laptop, or collaboration efforts with contracted companies. How are you doing on your efforts to minimize the risks of such a breach? This is bigger than Facebook. Better focus on this first.
You've surfed the Information Superhighway now known as The Internet. When you visit a website, information about your computer and sometimes you specifically, is gathered without you knowing. And a little "cookie" is often left behind on your computer so They know you've been visiting, the next time you visit. You've done a survey or two. You've posted on a forum. You've purchased something online. You're pretty much done with privacy; They know more information about you than you think.
*GASP* YOU'VE SENT EMAIL! Your email goes out from your (commonly) insecure computer to your Internet provider's mail servers, then through possibly many other Internet provider's mail servers, until it gets to your recipient's mail server. Interception and archived copies of that email are possible all along the way. And it sits at your recipient's mail server until she opens up the email program on her computer and retrieves the email. And now the malware on her computer reads that and forwards it on silently to a hacker rubbing his hands excitedly to do nothing more than read the next installment of your life's events. Better stick to snail mail (i.e. the postal system).
Oh, you've just deposited a letter in the closest mailbox? Ah, yes. Back to basics. Two days ago I was going to send back a DVD to our online DVD rental service via one of those mailboxes and the locked door was wide open. And even if your mailbox is NEVER hacked, and no one ever pulls mail OUT of the mail box but the ethical postman, it's prudent to think of how many hands that mail goes through before it gets to the recipient… all those people are God-like in their purity. And then, horrors of all horrors, your precious private letter ends up in your recipient's unsecured, publicly-accessible, mailbox right beside their doorbell. And sits there all day until your recipient comes home from work and grabs that private letter. If it's still there. Yep. The old ways are better. And more secure.

I could go on, but then I'd be giving away the content of my next book, "Privacy? You're Better Off Dead" and I'd have to charge you for it.

Seriously. We should use some common sense and not divulge everything about everything to everyone . But don't live under some illusion that you have privacy and that no one can find you. A murderer doesn't need Facebook to break into your house at night and give you a dirt nap. A stalker doesn't need your online information to watch your daily driving patterns as you go to work, lunch, or stores. And the FBI, CIA, or any other intelligence agency doesn't need to know that you like country music to suspect you as a drug trafficker in an ongoing investigation. And advertising companies aren't going to kill you or kidnap your kids.

OK. I'm on a rant now. You will see advertising wherever you go. Oh, you do already. OK. So you know what's really annoying about advertising, now that I've realized I can't get rid of it entirely without dying? The fact that I can't customize it to actually display things I'm interested in. Windows Live Messenger thinks I need a date on a singles' site… hello, I'm deliriously-happily-married. A banner ad on a website asks me if I like President Bush. Who? An email suggests I need Viagra. Hello.

So I'd love to customize this experience. Give me ads relating to my interests, hobbies, work, home, and marital status. Show me the latest synthesizer gear. Some neat photography widgit. Advertise grass seed that will destroy all my current grass and grow to 2" and stay there forever so I never have to mow again. Show me an ad for 10 fun outings for less than X dollars we can do as a couple. Or 5 cool craft ideas the kids will love, with materials we already have around the house. And on and on. So in a way, I wish more advertisers had access to some of my personal information and used it for their benefit. I'd be less annoyed with advertising.

Privacy is important. But often people get freaked out over non-critical privacy issues such as Facebook (BTW, there are privacy settings folks often don't even look at adjusting to their preferences) and yet ignore much more critical issues such as regularly changing their debit and credit card PINs. Or creating and maintaining a will. Or having a quality router/firewall in place so hackers don't keep getting into your home computer. Or keeping a copy of critical information offsite (i.e. safety deposit box at a bank, etc.). Or keeping on top of credit card and other statements. These things are not only critical for non-privacy reasons, they minimize the risk of identity theft and help you recognize a breach sooner.

So go ahead. Enjoy keeping in touch with people you've been out of touch with for a long time. Share experiences, thoughts, and photos. Know that it's not Facebook who's nearly as bad as all those "applications" you keep adding to your Facebook (you are clearly informed that your personal information now goes outside of Facebook to the company that runs that application, and beyond). Explore the Privacy section of any website before you post such information, but don't stay awake worrying about it. If someone really wants to get you, they will.

Rich

2007-07-11T22:44:00.001-07:00

I'm rich.

No really, I am. And if you know me, you're probably thinking, "yeah, he must be talking about something other than money" because I don't drive a sweet black Acura TL, and we don't have our dream black Honda Odyssey (I had to take a break here and browse the Acura and Honda websites for a minute).

Or maybe it looks like I'm not rich because we don't own a lavish house. Actually, we don't own any sort of dwelling. Mind you, we do own the sturdy 10x12 shed out back which stores much of the junk I've carried along through various moves, as I'm a junk collector. And it does store our lawn mower, which I don't use too often because I want to be a good steward of what we have and don't want to wear it out; besides, it's cute trying to play hide-and-seek with the girls as they wade about in neck-high grass in the backyard. And, let me not forget to mention, my stealth charcoal 21-speed bike which was custom-designed for me and that's why there are no brand decals on it. Either that or I took off the Canadian Tire Supercycle decals because they were cheap quality and looked kinda lame. But it's got shocks. Not pegs yet… And I'm going to load it up with a speedo (not the shorts), headlight, and water bottle. Eventually I'll ride it.

Yeah, I'm talking about something other than money. But don't go away just yet. Is this the same old, "yeah, but look at my family, friends, health, etc." speech? Does it matter? I just feel rich. So it must be true.

I could go on about everything from God's crazy love for me, His lavish spending of grace on me, to my totally amazing wife/best friend/technobabe/mother to our little ones, to our unspeakably wonderful little girls, and on and on. I could also go on about our totally awesome church, The Leader, and the great family of friends we've acquired and re-acquired there. And about friends in general, and about how amazing it is to find freaks like us to hang out with. I could also go on about how rich I feel to be living in Canada, in BC (Canada's heaven-on-earth), having a job that I enjoy, living in a house that suits our needs very well, to have an 17-year-old Honda Accord that's doing far more than just stayin' alive, to be able to be surrounded by technology day in and day out, and have such a wide variety of foods and fresh fruit so quickly available. Especially this time of year.

But I won't. Let me summarize: I'm rich.

The Bug

2007-05-17T21:42:00.001-07:00

Tuesday night was warm, as it has been lately around here. And we saw the first June bug of the season. I knew the girls loved bugs so we looked around for something to save the bug in until morning, when the girls were awake. Staci found an empty Starbucks cup (mmmm, where did the pumpkin spice latte go?) and we stuck the bug in the cup for the night.

Later the next day Staci released the bug to the girls. Or rather, released the girls on the bug. Here are a few photos of the glee that went on for the next few minutes (click on the photo to see more closely).

I'm glad our girls love bugs. We teach them to be gentle and to be careful (ask us first about bugs, and don't touch spiders), but they have no fear of them. They were so happy to take turns holding the bug, letting it crawl across their little hands…

And at last it was time to say good-bye to the bug. "Good-bye, bug," the two little voices said.

Killing Chickens

2007-05-08T20:30:00.001-07:00

"Daddy, how do they kill chickens," Tasia asks with a more detached curiosity than anything.

"Well," I ponder for a moment, trying to think about exactly how chickens are killed these days. I know my grandma would take an axe to the neck section of the chicken back on the farm. And then there was the latent smell of dead chicken being plucked that came to my mind's Sensory Playback gear… No, that probably isn't a proper representation of how chickens are slaughtered today. At least not the ones who sacrificed their wings for our evening's dinner that night. Mmmmmm, they was tasty. You know how many chickens had to die for our dinner? I can't remember, but I do remember how tasty those wings were.

"I'm not sure exactly how they kill chickens but the chickens probably don't feel anything when it happens." I wonder if there's a video on the Internet or in an interactive encyclopedia that shows how chickens are killed. You know, educational. Like, a couple of weeks ago Tasia was explaining to me how they made potato chips. She was close, but I didn't know enough about the process to tell her exactly how they were made. So I said we'd look it up. Sure enough, there was a video made in probably 1983 that showed how chips were made. The girls loved it.

On second thought, maybe they wouldn't love a video on how chickens are killed. We do fast-forward the part in the Bambi movie where Bambi's mom gets killed… but then again, chickens are smaller than deer so maybe they'd make less of an impact… Especially since Bambi's mom was killed by a 12-gauge. I'm sure chicken-killing factories use much quieter methods. Like a mini-guillotine or something...

Anyway, she went on. "So after the chickens are killed they are cooked so that we can eat them?"

"Yes. Well, usually they'll freeze them or send them to the store, and then we'll buy them and cook them."

"Oh, yes." And then she went on to talk about something completely different.

There is a part of me that's as matter-of-fact about it as she mostly is. But there is another part of me, as much as I like death and stylized destruction, that withers a bit and sheds a tear that she has to learn about the Dark sides of this world. Of course, Heaven is one day closer today.

But until then, we kill the chickens. Mmmmmm. Wings.

Dead Ant

2007-04-29T20:14:00.000-07:00

Our little girls love bugs. All kinds of bugs. We teach them to not touch spiders, and red ants anyway, because they can bite.

After we got home from yet another awesome church service the girls wanted to have a look at the red tulips on our front lawn before coming inside the house. And after they came in both were quite excited to discover some ants on Katiana's shirt.

Staci picked them off and threw them outside. Tasia found one more, and as Staci picked that one up to put it outside, Tasia says in a slightly dejected voice, "That ant will spend the rest of the day outside, being dead."

After recovering from laughter we explained that the ant wasn't dead, and that Mommy was just relocating it.

Ah, good stuff.

In the Heart

2007-04-17T22:16:00.000-07:00

Tonight at the girls' bedtime I crawled into Tasia's bunk bed and we visited for a few minutes. I asked Tasia, "Tasia, what's in you're heart right now?"

"Veins and arteries," she declares. I started to laugh at her so certain yet somehow expected answer and she says, "HA, HA" in that Nelson Muntz way (though they've never seen Simpsons, both of them have been doing this lately… Tasia whenever she is referring to something silly or odd, and Katiana just whenever).

Then she says, "There's LOVE in my heart, not just veins and arteries," as she laughs about her little joke.

"You're funny, Tasia," I say.

"You're funny too, Daddy."

"Well, thank you!"

"You're the funniest AND the tallest. So that makes you the King of All Men."

OK. On to my castle.

It's Already There

2007-04-11T22:42:00.001-07:00

I do love our church. There's always good meat to chew on in each sermon. I can actually remember what was preached later that day, or even later in the week. That's a new phenomenon.

Something that really stuck with me from the Easter sermon was when Nolan was talking about Jesus forgiving folks while He was on the cross, interceding, telling His Father that they didn't really know what they were doing. Even though they tried everything they could think of, they could elicit no hatred, no bitterness from Jesus. All that came out of Him was love. It's because that's what was in Him. There is no bitterness, no hatred in Him.

Nolan went on with the next application, to us… When we are poked, when we are pushed, what comes out of us? No one truly "makes" us angry, bitter, spiteful or flowing with hatred. Anything that comes out of us was there to begin with. Luke 6:45… "out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks."

If I'm walking with a glass of water and you bump me so that the liquid spills over, it's not wine that spills out, it's water.

Ah, that's good stuff. May the love that God has shown us melt into us so that we love one another, and let THAT be what spills out when we get bumped.

Daddy, I Can Climb!

2007-03-31T22:24:00.000-07:00

Ah, sunshine and Spring. There are few environments that can top a sunny day. It's more than UV rays and vitamin D. There's something about the sunlight that seems to infuse life into me. God did something special with that star. It's not just any light that can do that.

Outside again today (we've spent a bunch of time outside these days, enjoying the wonderful weather) Tasia was "climbing" a small tree in one corner of our backyard. "Daddy, I can climb!" Such joy. "Look at me! I'm climbing a tree!"

And of course there was the most wonderful sandbox. Tasia wanted me to help her find another earthworm like she found yesterday. Our girls love bugs. What can I say?

Katiana wanted me to throw the football "really high so I can catch it". Well, I threw a smaller ball, not wanting to see her running to catch a falling football in the face.

Spring is welcome here… partly for the new life, green, and fresh that it brings, partly because it's the forerunner of Summer...

Humbled and Amazed

2007-03-20T00:19:00.000-07:00

I woke up standing. Which was odd because I am usually laying down on my bed while sleeping, but here I was standing on a sort of glassy mirror surface that didn't seem all that slippery. The air was, well, thick and powerful, and invigorating but in a way that felt like it would probably feel accelerating in a rocket, moving at speeds you didn't think possible. Like something inevitable was going to happen, you were almost not able to breathe, but felt as alive with the intensity and yet longevity of a firework. That was the only way I could describe it.

And all at once I felt a stream of fire burn straight into my chest, yet it didn't burn my clothes. I immediately sank to the mirrored floor, completely unable to stand or even move; I could barely think. The pressure was overwhelmingly fierce and all that went through my mind in those microseconds still seemed like an eternity as everything stood razor-sharp still.

Before I could think of the question I knew the answer. He was here. I was here. Was this good?

As it sunk in to my ever-dulling skull I felt increasingly sick and dark, and everything around me seemed to heighten in intensity and I felt infinitely smaller and smaller. His force was unbearable. Even though it was probably only a moment or two I couldn't believe I was still alive. How could I last another second?

And then it stopped. Was I dead? No, I could still feel the pressure, still could not bear the blinding light though my eyes were shut. The force wasn't gone, it just stopped increasing. It was as if it I was in some sort of shell, where the pressure stopped increasing just before the breaking point, as if there was a mercy limit just to keep me barely alive.

But there was Someone else. I could feel Him standing somewhere in front of the fire stream. I don't know when He arrived, or more likely it seemed He was really there all the time. I don't remember Him being actually gone. He was my Shell.

Then a Voice spoke. I can't relay the extreme mixture of fear and joy and horror and longing that almost tore me apart when I heard His Voice. "What do you have to say?"

How could I even respond? I could barely think coherently. But then I almost vomited. The sickness and darkness latched on to a massive magnetic power that I could only sense near my right side. I could do nothing to stop the feeling of being sucked into the whirling, screaming, black hole that was pulling me in, and for some reason I couldn't stop the desire to just let go into the vortex.

I then realized He wasn't talking to me, but to this Entity, this toothy vacuum with jaws gaping, advancing.

The Entity stopped… not of its own will, but by a command I barely heard, and couldn't repeat. I still felt the Entity's magnetism and was powerless to stop the choking, panicked feeling of falling and drowning.

The Entity wasted no time in answering the Father's question. I couldn't understand the guttural speech that spewed forth from the Entity's incredible voice. But the quality of the voice was lost almost in an instant when it colored with hatred and filth and stench. It flowed with the essence of a thousand sewage cesspools. I couldn't stand it anymore and my body retched and shook violently. I could taste the vile liquid the Entity overflowed and my soul stopped. What was this abominable fluid?

My heart shook. I knew now. I could recognize everything he was saying. The Entity was laying out every single evil I had ever done, ever thought, ever said. Every single self-centered moment, every selfish intent. He gloated as he started with the worst and worked his way over every dark place I had tried ever to forget. How long would this go on? I was a mess. I was essentially dead, with vomit all over me and the glassy floor, which was now covered in the horrid thick fluid that the Entity spoke, and I was drowning in it. I wished my consciousness would end. My body was useless and gasping for air it got more swill than anything. My eyes, permanently fused shut still poured tears incessantly. All I could hear were the accusations, all I could see was each moment he described...

"He did this, and then he did that, and after that he went back and said this, and this thought came through his head, which he consumed and did this…" The Entity was right. I couldn't argue any statement. Not one accusation was false.

But then a command came from the Voice. The Entity shook, interrupted, flustered. The Son had something to say. Yet He was silent for a moment…

I felt the pressure lift. The burning stopped. I could feel the strong, soft footsteps of the Son coming towards me. I tried to recoil but my body was completely limp; I was filthy beyond recognition. How could He even get near? How could He defile Himself?

He was sloshing through the liquid now and I couldn't bear the thought of it. He needs to stay away. I don't want Him here. Not in my worst moment.

He reached down toward me and put His hands under me. It seemed like He must have reached a thousand miles down, but yet His hands felt like the arms of a strong man, not a giant. He picked me up ever so gently. Cradling me like a baby in His arms He whispered to me. As He wiped the putrid mess from my face and hair He kept whispering the same thing. At first I couldn't hear but then I couldn't believe.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," He was whispering. Impossible.

He took His sleeve and wiped my eyes and with His fingers He opened my eyes.

I can't describe even close to what I felt in that moment. He was looking straight at me and He was smiling. As tears streamed down His face, and as Love poured out of him and flooded me inside, with a bright flash of pain in His eyes He said, "It is finished."

He faced the Entity with flaming eyes and as the Entity started up with his accusations once more, desperately yelling, screaming, the Son's voice boomed, "No! It was ME! It was me. It was me."

"It was all me."

I couldn't believe it. The Entity was speechless as the Son took every single accusation in those last four words. I still couldn't speak, couldn't move. It WASN'T Him! It was ME! How could He say it was Him? How could He take all those dark sins as His own? How could He drink of that? I had no more time to ponder this…

The Father swelled with joy. The Entity let out a piercing cry and ran, unable to exist in what was to happen next. The Son jumped in delight.

The messy, glassy floor shook violently for a second and in an instant we were standing waist-deep in a clear blue pool with no edges, not far from the accusation scene. Then He shouted like a thunder-clap, with joy that enveloped me, unmade and remade me and literally brought me back to life, "You're MINE at last!"

His shout struck the water with an explosive shock and it danced as high as a mountain, and as it fell back down on me the warm, sweet torrent cleansed me in an instant. And when it had all rained back into the pool with no edges He was grinning like a schoolboy who had just lit his first firecracker. He loved this. He lived for this.

He loved me. How could that be? Why? What could He have possibly seen in that wretched mess of death drowning in filth?

He set me down on my feet and hugged me. I don't know how I stood, but as long as I held His hand I could stand. As long as I could feel His pulse in my palm I could live. I knew that my body was cleansed, that my soul was washed, but I also knew that there was absolutely no way I could move, or do anything but crumple in a heap if I let go of His hand.

And I knew, I KNEW that He loved me. I looked up at His face. I was so grateful. I was speechless. I was unable to fathom it all. He laughed. A laugh that cleared the clouds, the confusion, the doubt, that freed the soul, that made alive. I started to laugh along with Him and we laughed to tears.

It was that simple. He loved me, and I loved Him.

He turned, and with me in hand, we started to walk.

Sick and Tired

2007-03-15T23:43:00.000-07:00

I caught that big bad flu that was going around. With the help of the almighty ColdFX I wasn't put out that many days in a row, but what really bugs me now is that for the last couple nights I've been kept up by Tickle and his insane friend Cough. One night I got probably less than an hour's sleep. I'd just start falling asleep and then get this tickle in my throat and COUGH, I was full awake again. Rinse and repeat every 5 minutes or so. At least my abs are getting a workout. I should sell the home gym now.

Last night was better; seems when I'm upright I don't get the tickle as much, so I slept like a horse. Or sort of. I was sitting up on our downstairs couch (didn't want to wake Staci with my coughing). Do horses sleep standing up or is that just my late-night iNtuition slipping in rumors as facts?

Checked out cough remedies on the Internet and there's a list as long as a politician's election promises. A zillion possible causes and a zillion squared possible remedies. Back in the Ancient Days when the Internet comprised of Old Wives' Tales and your online community consisted of the 5 neighbors within a mile's radius, there were less choices for remedies; take a spoon of honey mixed with a dash of some eucalyptus oil and come back in the morning. If that didn't work, shut up and get back to work. Easy. Wait. I'm building a case for pre-Internet. I really must be tired. Forget that. The Internet rox.

Went to work yesterday as I'm generally feeling fine now, but my voice sounds like I found it in a back alley garbage bin in Gotham City. So after having to talk at work with co-workers and clients all day my voice was even worse. Funny. I'm probably not even contagious anymore (there's that iNtuition again) yet because I sound sick now people are like, "Whoa there, you got the Plague or something?" as they slowly jump back a few feet after hearing me hoarse out, "How's it going?" Yeah, I got the Plague. Now let me work and leave you some Plague so you can share the joy.

So today I worked from home and talked as little as possible, which really isn't that hard for a hardcore Introvert. It's like telling a Ukrainian, "Sorry, you're going to have to stick to a strict diet of perogies, farmer sausage, and borsch today." Dang.

Tonight I figured I'd stay up late instead of wasting 3 hours unsuccessfully trying to get to sleep like I did last night. Who needs sleep anyway? Sick people, mostly. And healthy people so they won't get sick. But if you're sick and tired, and can't sleep, then what do you do?

I Lost My Mommy

2007-03-08T22:24:00.000-08:00

It's Thursday night, so that means one of us goes out on the town. And this week is Staci's week.

Just us three at the dinner table, Katiana is feeling the loss. We've just had to deal with protests and general whininess from both girls over almost nothing, and the ripples have settled to a relative equilibrium. And we're talking about supper, about how Tasia doesn't like the soup but wants more toast, and how Katiana really likes the soup and the toast.

After a few rare moments of silence Katiana looks at me with one of her saddest faces ever and says, "I lost my Mommy. Now what am I going to do?" She's wringing her hands, bottom lip trembling. OK. This isn't whining. She's honestly sad, and she has good reason… she misses her Mommy already, not five minutes after she's left the building. Big tears starting up.

"What are you going to do," I ask. I go over to give her hugs. Katiana is queen of drama in our house, but this is a time for hugs. "She'll be back in the morning," I assure her. Of course, she'll be back tonight, but Katiana will see her in the morning… Well, chances are, Mommy will go in and tuck her little one in later tonight…

After a cry and some hugs, she's back again. And we're talking about anything, nothing, and food at the table.

Disarray and The Fish

2007-03-05T21:03:00.000-08:00

My desk is in disarray. It's really a picture of my entire office, where my desk is. Or, I could just say that my entire office is in disarray. I do have some room to work, so that's good. But the clutter does get to me most of the time at some subsonic level. It's such a mess that I posted this flower picture instead of a picture of my office, because hey, who wants to see clutter? Now, a flower from Uranus, sure. But not the mess.

Tasia came down to call me up for breakfast a few days ago and she looks around my office and says, "Dad, you sure made a mess." Yep. I'm trying to lead by example. "Yes, Tasia, you're right. I'm going to have to clean it all up." One day.

One day when I have absolutely nothing else to do. Or when I'm bored out of my head. Wait, those two things never happen.

But I did find a very cool aquarium screen saver today to put on our Media Center computer in the living room (www.dreamaquarium.com), because the girls have been enthralled with the trial version over the last 2 days. Hey, it's way cheaper and less bother than buying fish, then getting an aquarium because you forgot that fish need somewhere to live, flushing fish, getting more fish, feeding them, cleaning out their aquarium (as if you don't have enough cleaning to do already as a parent of toddlers, and fish don't even wear diapers), trying to explain to the little ones the next morning why the 3 goldfish only have their heads left and the 1 piranha has his whole body left, flushing the piranha and buying 4 more goldfish (3 to replace the original and 1 to replace the Judas fish), and on and on it would go.

The screensaver is the way to go. It's quantity AND quality, at one low price.

A New Watering Hole

2007-03-04T19:39:00.001-08:00

"Watering hole" is a great name for a place of gathering, a place of refreshing, and a place that fills you up. At least that’s what I think it is, and I guess blogs are mostly about what the writers think. I guess.

We've found a great watering hole. I must say, even growing up in a Christian home from conception and on, that I've never really looked forward to and enjoyed going to church. Sure, sometimes the message was amazing, or the time of singing awesome. But the going to church part was different and usually a battle. And that's not necessarily the "fault" of the particular church I would have been attending at the time.

God really changed my heart last year and it created an even greater hunger for more of Him, His grace, His love, and time with other of His kids who know Him this way. And since starting to attend The Feast (www.jesusfeast.ca) we've hit the jackpot. Yes, no church is perfect because no person (and thus no group of people) is perfect. But to find a church with leaders who are passionate about loving Jesus, loving people, and preaching the solid Word has been a huge "blessing" in our lives.

I look forward to church now, and don't want to miss it. Every Sunday we leave church refreshed, challenged, encouraged, lifted up, and filled up. Why wouldn't we look forward to it?

I'm Right.

2007-02-20T23:01:00.000-08:00

So we've known for some years now that Tasia is much like her Daddy. In how she looks and in her personality type (uncanny at how that matches, actually). She said it herself recently…

"Daddy, I'm your kid. I know everything."

And she's been doing amazingly with teaching herself how to read, unofficially, at her own pace and mostly in her own little head. She'll bust out and read a sign or book out loud that just floors us. So today she announces, "I can read every book in our house now."

"Oh? Every book?" I query. (I think briefly of a darkened room with an eerie voice, "Anything?" Maybe it's an old ad or something.)

"Yes. I can read very well."

"Yes you can, Tasia, but probably not every book just yet."

"Oh, I can read every book."

"Well, you can read a lot of books, and you know a lot of words, but you don't know all the words just yet."

"I'm right."

"I think you're wrong. Let me show you." And hey, we're not arguing. At least I don't call it that. Just yet. So I sit down and grab a pencil and one of the sheets of paper she's been drawing on and write a word…

"Dad, you're writing on my paper."

"Yes. Can you read this word?"

"Ummm, 'computer'."

"Great job! You're right. How about this one?" I up the ante.

"E--cc--l--t--n… hmmm. That's a tricky one." Ah, an ever-so-slight moment of triumph.

"That word is 'excellent'."

"EXCELLENT! There! That one was easy!" Sure. So easy once you hear it.

"How about this one?"

"D----p-----e---n----t… hmmmm."

"So you see, there are a lot of words that you're still learning, and you ARE doing very well at learning your words. But you still don't know ALL the words yet. That word is 'disappointed'." Honest, there was really no rhyme or reason to these words that I just picked in the moment. Freud what you will.

"Could we do some math?" If at first you don't succeed, redirect. She learns fast.

"Sure! One plus one equals---"

"TWO!" She bursts out triumphantly.

"Great job!"

And we move on to 4+4, 4+5 (the fingers are used to figure this one out), 5+1, 8+8, 20+1, 50+2, etc. and she's right on the money. So it's her turn.

"Dad, what's this one? One hundred plus one?" I see, "1000+1=___" in the format I had used.

"That says, 'one thousand plus one'." Hey, might as well be accurate. It's worked well with her up to this point. I think.

"No, that says, 'one hundred'," she asserts.

"Well, one hundred has only two zeros, and one thousand has three zeros. So you take your eraser and erase one zero like this. And then it shows one hundred. So one hundred plus one is… one hundred and one!"

"One hundred and one! You're right!" And she proceeds to write down 101 in the underscored spot.

Ah yes. That's my Tasia.

Taking a Break

2007-02-10T23:57:00.000-08:00

Last week while helping one of the girls bath I saw the little duck. He was all curled up on the side of the bathtub, all cold and wet, and tired. I felt so sorry for him that I picked him up, squeezed out all the cold water, and put him down to dry off. But not before taking this picture.

Can you think of a great caption for this photo?

Coolness

2007-02-03T12:18:00.000-08:00

Is there some sort of feature or accessory that determines coolness at an early age? If I had to determine what that was, I'd say it would be sunglasses. Especially lime green ones. Yep, that is the epitome of cool.

Kataina Raine. Cool.

What Kind of Joy?

2007-01-29T22:54:00.000-08:00

There is a sort of joy that only a little girl knows. There's something inside her that just can't stay all bottled up, especially when a silly sound is made, or a zoomed-in face touches noses. Or when an upside-down face peeks around the horizon...

There's a joy that brings mischief, or maybe a mischief that brings joy. There's a smile that breeds a laugh and a giggle that escapes the eyes, and can't stay long behind little lips. There's a light in her face that warms the whole room, even if for a moment...

There's a joy she has in knowing she is loved, and a joy in loving back. This little one is treasured, loved, held, kissed, hugged, snuggled, and tickled and even though it's not all joy and fun and flowers, in this moment, in these smiles, love reigns.

A Place

2007-01-20T00:09:00.000-08:00

A Place.

The sound was soft, airy, and longing. It spoke of open air, wide spaces. It sang a magnetic draft that pulled and pushed and held still, an unseen draw and repel…

This Place was like none. Murky green glass carried the Windsong wherever it wished. Gently stubborn soft mossy earth contrasted, beckoned, waited, resting among isle siblings…

One Isle stood alone. One towered to the cotton clouds and threatened the deep sky. The Windsong seemed to flow around it, the watery glass in awe as it could not draw earth from the Isle… it could not diminish the rock…

The Listener was moving. The Isle was calling, the Windsong carrying its drone. As earth and glass moved slowly below the Listener was pulled to the Isle, which ever drew nearer yet appeared just as far off…

Everything was moving, or so it seemed. The Windsong no longer floated on the glass of its own desire, or maybe it never did. The Isle's call could be heard in the quiet pull and push of the Windsong's murmur…

The Windsong was indeed the Isle's voice. The Listener knew it as imminently as he felt the Isle's approach. It still looked ever so far away but the Listener was now moving so quickly and silently, so high above the glass, flying towards the Isle yet the only breeze rustling the Listener's feathers was the solitary notes of the Windsong…

There was no escaping the gravity of the Isle yet escape was not the Listener's intent. The Windsong's pull to the Isle and push to the sky propelled him on and little isles could not be seen anymore, only the green glass and everything it mirrored. He wasn't concerned with impact, whether it was the lull of the song or the intrigue, the pull of mystery that dulled the senses…

Yet the Listener was not unaware. Nor did his senses feel distant. No, he never felt more alert, more alive… he breathed in the crisp, sweet, thick air of the high altitude that seemed to warm him as he rocketed towards the Isle. He noticed that the stronger the Isle's pull and the Windsong's push felt, the more he wanted to see the Isle, but he could do nothing else except ride, and wait…

(to be continued, I think)

The Monologue

2007-01-12T23:09:00.000-08:00

I talked to her today on the phone. Well, it was more of a one-way conversation, but it worked for her. And for me. I wasn't really sure what she was going on about, but it did make me smile.

And I think it's because when we adults talk on the phone, that's all she hears, is a mostly-nonsensical monologue. So when she pretends to talk on her little play cell phone, it's the same. And when she talks to me on the phone, why any different? You don't really need to pay attention to anything on the other end of the phone. Talking on the phone is a monologuous affair. You talk, you take a second to think about what you're going to say next, and you talk some more.

And it's so fun! It's all about yourself.

Life from a 2-year-old's point of view.

(well, not all about herself… she delights in welcoming me home from work with big hugs, smiles, and "I love you Daddy!")

Visions of Heaven

2007-01-10T23:28:00.000-08:00

"There are going to be birthday parties in Heaven, like when I turn five. And there will be Easter and Christmas, too."

"I'm sure there will be a lot of parties in Heaven, Tasia. Jesus will be so happy we're there, and we'll be so happy to be there."

Tasia has great ideas about Heaven. "We'll be able to see Jesus," she says. For sure, we will, face to face. That's becoming a more exciting idea for me more now than ever. Sure, I'll love the grapes. And the fact that I can sit around eating grapes for a very, very long time. And play keyboard and compose without the time restrictions of having to go to work the next day or go to sleep because it's so late.

But it's really cool that Heaven will be all about Him. His favorite things, His favorite people, and their favorite things. After all, He's the one that made us with our particular talents, abilities, and desires, and He delights in us when we're really at rest, really enjoying doing what He made us to do. He's more excited about having us come there than we are about going.

Ah yes, and I'll have some questions. And it'll be neat to tour the solar system. And the rest of the universe. And knowing Him, He'll be pretty excited to explain it all. We discover something neat about molecules or planet rotation and we think it's great. And it is. But He's thinking, "You've barely touched the surface. Listen to this…" as He goes on to explain the intricacies of concepts mankind was thousands of years away from discovering. It'll be neat to find out the science of healing. And how children inherit a sort of "soul DNA" along with their physical DNA that grabs parts of their parents' personalities…

And I really do want to wrestle with a polar bear. And know what it's like to put my arm in a lion's mouth without fear of losing it. And I want to taste water as it was meant to be. And I'd like Him to make me a chair. He'd be able to make one that's just right for me.

Deep Blue

2007-01-07T19:44:00.000-08:00

I know that sometimes folks say they're "feeling blue" when they're feeling down, or just overall out of it. But that's not all that blue is about. Not deep blue anyway.

The deep colors appeal to me. Dark, rich colors make me feel at rest and at home, and give me space to be, to think. The last place we owned we painted our room and our girls' rooms dark blues and greens. And when we moved into the house we're renting we had my office painted a dark blue color instead of the Aztec/flesh-color that it was.

Maybe it's because I'm a "winter" (ironic, as I don't prefer the season), or maybe it's because of my introverted personality. Regardless, I like dark colors.

And Black. Black is like, the sweetest color. We have a black car. Our dream van is black. My hair is black.

It's also pretty cool that my Staci shares these color preferences. How cool is that? I mean, what if her favorite colors were bright chartreuse, puke yellow, and muted coral? Or cloudy grey, dull brown, or fire-engine, cardinal, yell-in-your face red? No offense to these colors, but they are not my favorites.

We were talking about that recently… how we like so many of the same things. We both like technology and the associated gear, dark colors, deep movies (and action movies), anime, deep thoughts, spicy food, electronic music, and many of the same creative artists. That is pretty cool. So neat to have a best friend for a wife.

Blue. Yeah, I like blue. Deep blue, that is. I think another reason I like dark colors is that they seem deep. There seems to be much more in those colors than what initially appears. Much like introverts, I suppose. More life is lived on the inside than on the surface; not by choice, by design. Volumes are written within before the promo brochure is published for public consumption.

Ah, the inner sanctum. It's deep with dark colors (I almost wrote, "it's black and blue and read all over"). And now my techno-babe is calling me to the cave to hang out.

End of Life for 2006

2006-12-31T09:40:00.000-08:00

In some ways this seems like a significant day, this December 31. The end of the year has arrived. We've gone through hundreds of days to get here.

But in other ways it's really just another day. For those of us that don't observe this calendar (i.e. dogs, deer, and birds) there are really two main concerns about this day, as any other:

What am I going to eat today?
How am I going to keep warm?

Not present are New Year's resolutions, perceptions of a new start only related to the calendar, and parties celebrating the change. I can't get away from viewing the new year as somehow new and fresh psychologically, but realistically it's another month coming up, with no lighter load or challenge than last month, and no additional resources or energy with which to attack that load.

It would be nice to think of each day a little more simply; that's my daily goal. His mercies are new every morning, and He is faithful. He will provide for my needs today. Maybe today I will know a bit more just how He loves me, and maybe that will spill over to people around me. Maybe today I will be a little more productive with my time, but less stressed about getting everything done, and more concerned with loving people like He does.

I don't have any New Year's resolutions. If I did, I would feel compelled to make resolutions for each month or week; why should I only make resolutions on January 1? Greater success through lowered expectations. Good stuff.

Happy New Year!

5 Things

2006-12-29T19:55:00.000-08:00

Everyone's doing it. Now it's my turn. Here are 5 things you don't know about me:

Surprised?

The Horse and the Grassholes

2006-12-23T22:22:00.000-08:00

The Sumo beanbag chair has a new role as a Horse. Staci gave the girls horse rides on it yesterday and that's mostly what Tasia wanted to do today; ride the horse. So I set it up, she hoisted up her little foam chair, and then I plunked her on it. She was quite pleased with herself, as you can see.

The Horse is amazing. We drag him downstairs for our evening relaxation in The New Cave, then up the stairs he goes in the morning for the girls to jump on, fall on, wrestle on, ride on, and play Mario Kart on. Can't wait for mine to arrive now; maybe it will come next week after Christmas...

It's so comfy to be able to form it to whatever shape you feel like laying/sitting/lounging on. Quite relaxing. And very durable.

And then it snowed today. The flakes were quite beautiful, as Staci said, it was like being in a snow globe, the way they just slowly floated down. Tasia was quite excited, because "there would be enough snow to cover the grassholes". Sweet. That's exactly what they look like. There's rarely an end to interesting conversations, new theories, and made-up words around here. It's great to be home for the holidays.

34

2006-12-20T00:31:00.000-08:00

I thought I was 34 for a good part of this year. I guess I was really in my 34th year anyway. So when they told me that no, I was to be turning 34 this December 20, I was a little surprised.

Not a big deal either way, I think. I'm not afraid of age. At least not yet. I look forward to growing old with my Hunny, and being a great part of my little ones' lives as they grow up.

But it made me think of the number 34. Yes, there all sorts of fun facts at Wikipedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/34_(number)) but that's not what I'm thinking of. The numbers 3 and 4 are in sequence. The last time this happened for me I was 23…

The year was 1995. I was to start hanging out with Staci, and on April 12 I asked her to be my girlfriend. Later that year (and unrelated) I lost my job at Visions Electronics and near the end of the year started my professional career in the computer support world, at ANO Office Automation. 11 years later here I am, back at the same company (named VODA now), extremely happily married, and have two cute, strong, giggly, stubborn, creative, and huggable little girls.

And 11 years before that I was 12 years old and it was 1984 (that's me, second from the left). I don't remember specifics of that year (I wish I kept a consistent journal throughout my childhood), but some may come to mind as I think… I was in Grade 7, attending a Christian school in Kelowna, BC. I remember getting into computers more intently at that time; it was the Commodore Vic-20 computer (about 3 years old by that time), the Apple IIe, which had just come out the year before, and various IBM clone XT computers. Yes, it all revolves around technology... (I... love technology... but not... as much as you, you see... but I... still love technology...).

You should have seen my desk in those days. My folks and siblings would attest to its appearance of chaos, not much unlike how my current desk presents. A flurry of started projects, electronic parts littered about, and junk. Precious, sweet, junk. I'm a collector. Less now than then, but I still find me forcing myself to throw things out that I come across in my myriad boxes...

And in a couple of years I'd start out into my music hobby with a Roland D-50 (same model of keyboard I use today) that our school had. In Grades 10-12 I'd bring home near $10,000 worth of music equipment many a weekend and hook it all together, figure it all out...

Recently I was thinking about writing, or at least dictating, about various parts I remember of my life growing up. I think it would be neat for my girls as they get older to hear or read about. I know I was always interested in my Dad's and Mom's stories of their childhood experiences… The 1800s are so interesting (just kidding, Mom & Dad).

It's odd to see myself at 34... I remember my Dad at that age. He doesn't seem any older now but he was to me so very much a "dad", quite a strong, significant character in our lives. A man. Yet I find myself at odds with the thought that I am no longer a "boy", and that am also a father. I usually feel a lot younger than 34 is supposed to feel like...

Anyway, 11 years before that I was 1 year old (that's me sometime before 1 year old... my dad's the one with the white watch). I don't remember much about that time, except that back then in 1973 clothing styles and colors were at an all-time low; no offence to all who loved... and love the 70s for its clothing. And it wasn't long before I grew an afro... all natural. Back when the "man-perms", as I call them, were stylin' I was walking around with a cosmic-sized hairdo. I'm serious. Check it out at the left. I think my folks were probably pretty proud of my hair. Plus those bad-boy pants. They were wonderful back in the day. I think clients would be pretty surprised if I wore those today... mostly because they'd be so small on me though...

So what next? 35? Mid-life? Ah, it's all good; I'm not concerned. I've really come into quite a life-changing relationship with my heavenly Father this year and I'm really liking it. Jesus takes care of so many things that are out of my control, and that takes the load off of me.

I better quit before I write my whole biography in one post. Plus, it's late. Or rather, early in the morning, and my work day doesn't stop just because the rest of my world is celebrating...

The Garden

2006-12-12T21:24:00.000-08:00

As He walked softly through His Garden He smiled. Fresh, leafy, earthy smells reached His nose and he stopped for a moment to breathe it all in, joining in with the fragrance, the greenness. He loved the Garden. It was His handiwork. His expression. His joy, blood, sweat and love poured into every plant, from the fragile little shoots to the towering woods.

And today was different. Different than any other day that ever was, and different than any other day that would be. Because it was Today. There were new scents, new harmonies, new joys to be discovered.

Yes, there was work today too. And there would be a lot of hard work, and His hands would bleed again today, His heart would break and stretch and yearn and reach. There would be hard, stiff ground and dry dust and weeds. And longing. And Love.

He started a new day. He had mountains to move today but they were nothing compared to the swell that grew in His heart, His eyes as He knew what He would find today. Love began to flash, crackle, rumble, grow. Sparks flew as the fire burned hotter, whiter, thicker, ravenous. Nothing, no one would escape His Love. The Garden reciprocated in oranges, yellows, reds, and songs.

He worked furiously, lovingly. Time was short and the Garden needed Him. Every bit of the Garden needed every bit of Him and He lavished and spent and abundantly graced every plant. An unrestrained flow of Love flooded the earth and the soft, tilled earth eagerly drank, and the hard, stiff ground held its shell a little less.

Today was closing. The starry curtain was coming down and the sun's small mirror would soon blanket the Garden with soft, lunar light. Rest was near and evening's breeze trickled quietly over the moist earth. The Gardener put down the day-tools and smiled. He thought about each plant. About each bit of earth. About each piece of fruit He tasted. About the unique perfume of each plant, about the bouquet of taste the Garden willingly offered Him.

And it was good.

Birthday of a Sunshine

2006-12-04T08:25:00.000-08:00

It's my sweetheart's birthday today!

I took today off from work so that I could hang out with her all day; I never get tired of being with her.

She's my most wonderful, close friend, best wife a guy could dream of, amazing mommy of our little girls. She knows well what she knows, and is doggedly determined to find out everything she needs to know in her Mom At Home job. And she's fiercely devoted to her family, spending lavish amounts of energy and love among us all. I'm so glad God gave her to us.

I love you lots and lots, Hunny!

Married

2006-12-01T21:54:00.000-08:00

So they tied the knot.

Tasia has been fascinated recently with our wedding videos. She has picked up on conversations we've been having about the past, and she was particularly interested in the time before she was born.

So she and Katiana have watched our wedding videos a couple of times and asked to watch them more. Well, being they're on ancient "V-C-R" technology tape media, and we don't want to wear out our "Video Cassette Recorder" before we transfer this to digital format, we haven't obliged them with multiple daily playbacks of our wedding ceremony. We really don't want to lose this artifact out of our electronics collection. It's a Sony. And it's even got a "jog shuttle" for navigating the tape "frame-by-frame", as they would say back in the day. I've heard that some folks still buy video tapes and even use a VCR on a regular basis. I'd hardly believe it. But then again, there are folks out there who still get their "35 millimeter" film developed.

But I digress. And no, the Digital Divide isn't clouding my vision. I'm reaching out, way out, across that chasm. And I have long arms. Let go of the analog media and let me show you new worlds. But being you're reading this now, I'm probably just preaching to the choir...

Anyway.

Tasia decided that her and Katiana were going to get married. It was quite cute, as you can see. She was adamant about going to the table to "sign the paper" too. She and Katiana dressed up for the occasion, held hands, and I took pictures.

And then off they went, happy as larks… that is, assuming larks are really that happy. I think it's good that we're just all a little anthropomorphic sometimes… but maybe it's just me.

I think I should get some sleep.

Escape

2006-11-29T21:11:00.000-08:00

What if life had a Escape button? Where would it take you?

Now if you're a technogeek (or a technobabe like I call my wife) you'd probably know that the Escape button on your computer doesn't really "take" you anywhere. It does sometimes get you out of a window or option that you don't want to follow through on.

But if you think of an Escape button for life, maybe it would have a slightly different function, maybe something like teleporting you to Maui for a few hours so you could get out of the super-cold weather and come back all warm.

Mmmmmmm, Maui.

A wonder indeed

2006-11-23T21:44:00.000-08:00

Our little Tasia continues to grow up. She is very much like me, and I kinda like that. I know some folks seem to have it more difficult when they have a child in whom they see themselves. Maybe I'm naïve, or maybe I'm just OK with myself as a whole (at least that, I think) but either way I like it that she is similar to me in personality.

It does make it easier in many ways to relate to her, and help Staci and Katiana understand the smaller INTJ in the family. And I think in some ways it helps Staci understand me a bit more.

Tasia's a very strong little person, and also very sensitive. She sees her world as a place where she can just declare things into existence, but that world can be so quickly shaken when emotions run awry, whether inside of her or someone else in close vicinity.

It's fascinating sometimes, and difficult too, to see the development of personality where it clashes with reality or just with what's socially acceptable in our home. We give our girls room to develop and question, yet there is a limit defined by respect for authority. Tasia will question anything, and it can often seem like she's arguing. Most of the time she's trying to determine truth, and the extent of it. Although it can sometimes be tiring, I'm encouraged by her drive to know a thing thoroughly, and her intelligent questions following what must be such a flurry of thought processes going on in her little head.

And then I wonder what I must have put my Mom and Dad through at times...

Ideal Designs

2006-11-20T20:24:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I come across a product that is so well designed, it's like they've thought of everything. And sometimes we have a wonderful service experience and don't know how they could have done better.

But most of these times are only in my dreams. Reality seems much different.

So I decided to make a blog about it, because blogs are the thing to do these days.

Ideal Designs (http://idealdesigns.blogspot.com)

This is where I'll post not so much my complaints about current products or services (there are enough complainers in the world) but more about practical ways to make these products or services better, or in my eyes, ideal.

Maybe someone, one day, somewhere, who can actually effect some of these changes, might take note and make their product better.

But probably not. As long as I have a place to vent my ideas, I'm happy.

Together

2006-11-09T20:33:00.000-08:00

A couple of days ago I got a picture of something that really, really delights God.

Tasia climbed onto the chair and asked Katiana to come and sit beside her. She squished over to make room for her little sister. At first she was drawing and talking to Katiana all about what she was drawing, and then got a book and started to read to Katiana, who was soaking up the love.

It really warmed my heart, watching those two, cuddled together reading. Some days we thought this day would never come. And it's not always like this still, but Tasia is really starting to take a shine to her younger sister.

What it does for us is wonderful… what it does for God when we love our neighbor must be even more thrilling. It's not always easy to love. Actually, let me correct myself. It's not always easy to remember to love, as odd as that might sound. Jesus has changed my heart and given me a heart that can now really know what it is to love people (I didn't know before), even folks that I don't know, or folks that annoy me. But sometimes I'm so busy going about the tasks of my day that I forget. And when He reminds me, I think of how much He loves me and loves the people around me, and it becomes easier to shift my perspective some.

And it really, really makes Him happy when He sees me love people. Because He loves them so, and really wants them to know that. And for the most part, that's what we're here for. That's why these people are in our path every day.

And here's one more picture of our girls, zoomed out a bit so you can see Tasia snuggling Katiana with her feet too.

The Wind

2006-11-01T20:39:00.000-08:00

Whipped into the Wind, relentless, pushy, cold and biting Wind.

The day had begun softly enough, with a small voice on the other side of the Sanctuary's door, and when she came in she warmed the room with her "Good morning, Daddy!"

But the door let in some Wind. The tracks were gently anticipating the steel wheels' approach. It was still a quiet breeze. But somewhere the Hands moved. Again. And nothing would stop their age-old circuit. Just a little longer in the warmth… just one more taste of night's sweet rest in the still-dark morning…

The thunder was audible now. The Hands moved it closer and closer. But its opponent was not yet ready.

The rich scent of vanilla and hazelnuts warmed the room, and smiles lit the sky; it was summer at the Table. Love's potency shielded the Four and coursed about with babbling joy and laughter.

All too soon it was over. The Inevitable was here. The Hands pushed on and on, eager to open the castle's gate and flood with the pounding cacophony.

Then it happened.

It wasn't unexpected yet took by surprise with its intensity. The Gate opened. The Wind leaped from its battle stance, whipping this way and that. Relentless noise crackling and distracting. Pushy demands, requests, calls… expecting, pleading, asking. Cold that pierced through the shield and touched flesh. Biting, needling, pressure, loading upon load.

But the opponent pressed on. Something in the morning's memories, Someone very near, helped meet the attack with matched resolve. The fury of the onslaught would not forever prevail. And somewhere, not far, a song was carried along a scented breeze. And for a moment everything paused and thinned, and turned transparent. Beyond and through the angry wind and fog could be seen a passionate glow. New strength forced the cacophony back. Slowly, unwillingly, it started to weaken. The Wind was not the ruler.

Near the end, the Wind had exacted its toll. But the song was louder now, the glow nearer, the thunder retreating in the distance. The Gate was closing; the Hands made sure of that. The castle was alight with little happy faces and candles danced, making friendly shadows on the wall. Two hearts embraced and the Three were Four once again. Love's brook tended to the Wind wounds and sung the scented song.

The Wind would come again, but not now. Not here. Not tonight. Here, the incense of Rest was sweet. The Maker was smiling. All was well.

Oobies?

2006-10-28T20:13:00.000-07:00

I don't know if you've ever seen the little videos on TVO Kids with a two-eyed character called Oobi. Some old recordings from the Days We Used To Have Satellite have these clips, and he's pretty much a couple of eyes on hands, talking, singing, doing whatever Oobi actually does in real life. So on my last trip to the dollar store I got some styrofoam balls and some googley eyes with the express intent of making Oobies for the girls.

Today, Saturday, was to be the day.

So I made four Oobies. Two of them are seen above, peeking over the chair. They're actually kinda fun, and because I used twist ties to attach them, they stay on your hand pretty well. Oobies are pretty useful for doing all sorts of things. We found out that the Mummy Oobie and the Katiana Oobie could play piano. Katiana kept hers on all evening, even through the picnic supper in the living room. At first it took some firm reminding to not pluck the eyes off... not sure why, but some toddlers feel the urge to undo creation whenever it's presented to them.

Tasia thought they were OK, but she was more thrilled when I hot-glued little googley eyes on George (the blessed monkey) and Triceritops. Minky (the little monkey) came to have the operation performed as well but I didn't want all the animal friends to go through the operation at once. Very few of them have medical plans, and this IS an optional surgery so it can get expensive... the cost of each eye is a cent plus hot glue... But Tasia had other ideas for her Oobi. Here she was looking forward to making Oobies for days, and as I'm getting them all posed for a family shot I see hers has no eyes anymore. Supposedly Minky had cold ears and needed ear muffs. That's fine, but I guess Minky was kinda wigged out at having eyes on his ear muffs, so plick, pluck, the eyes were ripped off. I was a little disappointed, as I thought she wanted Oobies. And found all the materials, created custom-fitting lengths of twist tie, and hot-glued the little plastic washers into the Oobies so that they wouldn't easily come out. And now they were ear muffs.

But then again, I guess as long as she's having fun. She did like the Oobies. But I think she wasn't as thrilled with these googley-eyed creatures as her sister was; sometimes she gets a little squirrelly with things like this up close and personal. Good thing this Oobi doesn't have to see.

Can I choke somewhere else?

2006-10-24T21:18:00.000-07:00

The things you never think you'd have to answer. Tasia and Katiana were fooling around at the supper table today, genuinely having fun, but with food in their mouths. I reminded them to finish the food in their mouths before laughing. "I don't want any choking on food by the table."

Tasia thinks for a moment and asks, "Can I choke somewhere else?" I had to laugh. You see, there are certain things they cannot do by the table that they can do somewhere else. So the option to go, laugh with food in the mouth, and choke somewhere else was technically a viable option for Tasia.

"Yes, you can go ahead and choke wherever you want, but just not at the table." That's not what I said, but it's the first answer that came to mind. I'd dare not say it; kids are so literal the wouldn't understand the humor. So there you have it.

My little Tasia, most likely an INTJ like me, looking for all the other possibilities.

Summer and The Lack

2006-10-19T23:39:00.000-07:00

So where did all the summer go? Today was bright and sunny, and I wandered back the hallway, just a couple of doors down into the twin French doors bursting with light under the sign, "This Last Summer"...

Ah, it's warm. Maybe I'm cold-blooded. I don't look forward to the cold of Winter. You see, we weren't designed for cold. And Winter is not an Entity. It is a Lack. Spring oozes with the Sun's mounting strength, and welcomes you with the green, gentle, fresh smells of life after Winter. And then there's Summer. The Sun in all its glory, unabashedly lavishing his energy all over Space, for anyone who might be cold. And in Summer, we're close, Earth and Sun.

And then the Distance comes… Fall slips in the door, almost unnoticed. And by the time you open your eyes, you can't help but wonder how overnight the green has been lit on fire. The rusty red, blazing orange, the feisty yellow. Fall makes you feel warm with colors borrowed from Summer's feelings. And you don't so mind the chill that draws the coat a bit closer, that clasps the hot coffee cup, that makes the fireplace your own little Summer.

But then Fall's time is up all too soon and he gathers his rich brown and red cloak about him, picks up his cane, and slowly walks off the stage, muttering something about hibernating and hot cocoa and a soft bed.

And with a muffled crack of ice under snow, Winter whispers. The Sun is far, far away. Winter is the Lack. And all creation shivers. Winter's masterpiece crystals, snowflakes, and ice cream on treetops all pull attention, wonderfully, from the sharp, dry, rasping, blustering, settled, cold. We huddle, bundle, snuggle, and warm our hands in desperate attempts to bring back Summer. But Summer is away. On vacation to somewhere tropical. Not coming back for a long, long time.

And the last ones to care are giggling, running, jumping, sliding. In me, Winter has taken its toll. I can see past the glittering masquerade, the shining whitescape. I don't walk, I float thinly above solid ground which is so close underneath the menacing mirror of solid water, yet too far away to offer any safety. And layers of white blankets persistently rest where we must walk and drive now so carefully, needing more and more energy to move, to pile away while gloved hands plead for fire and the coat has given up its last threads of comfort.

Winter holds out hands full of snowmen, icicles, and frozen breath and I turn to my little ones, expectant, sparkling energies ready to burst out and embrace the gifts, and I relent. Winter eventually charms.

I shiver and close the squeaky door of "This Last Winter" and walk down the hallway to Now. Fall is here, busily painting, splashing, gushing about. I will enjoy Fall. And the hot cocoa. And my warm blankets. And amidst giggles, running, jumping and leaf hoarding, I will smile. Fall is not the messenger of Lack. It is a celebration of Summer. A lavish spread of color. And it is the Now.

The family that gets sick together...

2006-10-13T20:33:00.000-07:00

Sick.

We. Are. All. Sick.

It started with Katiana (picture below is this morning, when she's got some energy back already). She got this flu. Then Staci got it. Then Tasia (picture at the left is just after I peeled her little limp self off the couch and sat her at the table). Then me. It actually slowed Katiana down, so we knew right off that it would be a doozy. And now she's almost done with it, but us other three are as lethargic as roadkill. My poor Staci can't take any decongestants so she's in a rough state.

I've been pumping ColdFX and it's been helping; my throat is only raw, not sore, and I don't have much for sinus problems. Just feel like a sloth.

Oh well, we have the weekend to mend. And catch up with work.

Back up to bed with me.

Create

2006-10-11T19:28:00.000-07:00

This is where I want to be. Beached. On a warm beach. Resting. Doing nothing much but thinking, watching the sky, feeling the solid sand support me.

Sometimes it feels like the tide is up and rising, lifting me slowly but gradually and there is no end. Soon I'll be at the end of my chain and the tide will keep rising. The full, smiling moon, oblivious to my situation but happily going about its routine, will pull and pull until the water's over my head. And I'm chained down, and the chain's only so long. And chains don't stretch. Not steel, rusty chains anyway.

But that's not quite where I'm at today. Anymore. The moon's been relaxing its pull. It's looking around to the bottom of the earth, slipping below the brim, and another power is taking over. Slowly, the moon relinquishes its nightlight and happily looks elsewhere, softly, quietly, pulling and pulling. And the sun begins its preremptory rule.

But the tide goes down, and the leash loosens, and the salt water moves down my face. Now I'm floating, not so much enchained to a height above the sand, but contained and anchored. Gentle waves dip and swell, and take me up and under them, but I know the tide is going down. I can see better now.

Daddy says, "I didn't make you a fish, you know." I smile. Of course You didn't. I can't breathe underwater. Especially saltwater. He smiles.

He says, "You know what I made you to do, don't you?" I nod, and some water goes up my nose.

"Then that's what I want you to do. I enjoy watching you create, and listening to you play."

I will, Daddy. Thank You for raising the sun and for lowering the tide.

And special thanks and love to my Hunny for helping me create a music studio downstairs and for encouraging and supporting me in this new but familar direction. And to my Heavenly Daddy for changing my work so that this becomes more possible.

Touchdown (Part 4 of 4)

2006-10-09T23:15:00.000-07:00

The day that ends our little vacation…

It didn't really feel like Thanksgiving today as we were pretty much travelling all day, though we were thankful to be coming back to a wonderful home, to our comfy beds with lots of pillows on them, to our well-worn routines that fit us so well.

Once again we were very thankful for the DVD player in the back. The girls did really well for traveling all day and missing their nap, but I get ahead of myself.

Ah, Ikea. How we wish there was one in the interior of our province! We had a list of mostly small things that we could fit on the way home, and got a few little extras. The girls had fun in the kid's rooms as they were setup in the showroom. We bought a sweet cargo bag that goes on the roof of our car even though we have no roof rack; it adds 15 cubic feet of storage, and that came in handy.

They finally had the night light we've been wanting to get for our girls for over a year, and now we have it! The girls absolutely love it. It's pretty cool. We also got a bed canopy which I'll modify to fit on Tasia's bed.

But the 6-pack of Ikea cinnamon buns went in the trunk…

It's wonderful to get away. We're both quite fond of home though, so coming home has an attraction to us that might not resonate with more extroverted folk. After the girls were in bed, we flopped down and watched an episode of one of our favorite anime series, then had some downtime in front of each of our computers… Nothing like drinking from the fire hose of very high speed Internet when we were without for 4 days!

The main attraction (Part 3 of 4)

2006-10-08T22:37:00.000-07:00

This is the day Tasia's been waiting for. It's been more than 62 days since she first started asking how many sleeps were left before we were going to Vancouver, to the aquarium. Well, here we are. Day 0. No more sleeps. She was so excited. And it's a wonderful thing, a gift from God, that they slept very well all last night.

The aquarium opened at 10AM and we left the "hotel-house" a bit too early, so we took a slow drive around Stanley Park. Saw some black squirrels, barges, sailboats, bridges, and lots of leaves. And some "huge trees" and some "skinny trees", according to Katiana. In between all the neat things to see, Tasia was counting down the minutes until 10:00…

And we arrived. Waiting in the line-up Katiana was excitedly talking about a large mural on the wall depicting fish and other water creatures… she hadn't seen anything yet.

For two hours we walked, watched, and listened as we came across dolphins, sharks, turtles, whales, otters, frogs, eels, and more. And when we came to the store at the end, Tasia adopted a baby penguin to go with her current little Emperor penguin named Eric. It was a trip that we'll all remember, and I'm sure Tasia will talk about for years to come. This time around (we took her 2 years ago) we could really see her just soaking it all in. Processing, filing, observing...

After meeting my brother Marshall and his wife Lisa at the Spaghetti Factory we all went home for some nap time. At lunch I was making the little soft penguin walk up to some plum sauce and suggested to Tasia that maybe the penguin wants to taste some. To which she says, "Noooo, he can't have any. He's stuffed!" Good stuff.

To top off the evening we took a walk in the sun and brisk air to Lush to get some sweet soaps and other yummy-smelling stuff for my hunny.

Oh, and we can't forget the candy store. It was less than a block away from where we were staying, and we had to go. For all our sakes. Candy, candy, everywhere! Each of us got some sweet, loving candy. What's a vacation without candy? I think that will become a tradition for us, it was so fun.

It's fun to go to an aquarium. But it's WAY more fun going with little ones who are seeing real-life versions of the toy animals they play with or read about in their books. I can't wait until Heaven, when God is able to take us on tours all over the universe to show us things we've never even imagined.

Acclimatization (Part 2 of 4)

2006-10-07T21:14:00.000-07:00

Our morning started at 6AM with our little ones loudly awake, loudly awakening their very sleepy Mummy and Daddy. After attempts to get them back to sleep we gave up. And they did get quiet for, like less than 30 minutes somewhere in the morning, and for Katiana especially, that meant that she fell asleep.

After all the initial morning procedures we settled down to a wonderful breakfast with some of the tasty, expensive organic fruit, yogurt and cereal I bought the day before. And coffee. Beloved, bitter (except for mine, because I add 3 teaspoons of sugar), wakening coffee. Except it doesn't wake me up. Caffeine doesn't affect me. At least in any noticeable way. But we have our favorite Zadiva vanilla hazelnut coffee with us and it's an inseparable part of our family breakfast tradition. I drink coffee for the taste. The taste of bitter and sweet in a warm mug. Mmmmmm, bitter and sweeeeet.

We decided to go to Kitsilano beach with the girls. They loved it. Of course they wanted to walk in the water, so up went the pant legs, off came the socks and shoes, and in they went. Crazy cold. It must have been like ice, feeling their hands and feet afterward, but they didn't seem to mind. No more complaining of being cold after a bath!

Tasia collected all the shells her hands could carry and Katiana played in the sand, picking up whatever she found while trying to get as far out in the water as possible while Mummy and Daddy were constantly restricting her distance… She's persistent.

And of course, Katiana loved jumping in the puddles on the beach. As you can see, she gets pretty good air, and I stayed far enough away from the resulting splashes...

After the girls' naps, which we needed at least as much as they, we went to Granville Island where we found some cool puppets in the Kid's Market. And then shared a nacho meal in the Public Market. One of the locations in the eating area was a bakery and I had Tasia come up with me to pick any dessert she pleased; one for her, and one for Katiana. She picked a big carrot cake cupcake with cream cheese icing, and she figured Katiana would want a large fudge square. Sure enough, when I brought Katiana up to the glass display to pick her dessert, even after showing her the giant chocolate chip cookies and cinnamon bread loaves, she chose the huge chocolate fudge square. After buying the desserts (along with an amazing Nuttella and banana crepe for us) you should have seen the girls' faces light up when their desired desserts reached the table. Priceless.

Ah, vacation. Sure it's short, and with two little ones it's often a lot of work. And requires a lot of flexibility. And work. Did I mention a lot of work? But overall it's great. It's wonderful family time away from the day-to-dayness of home and all the responsibilities surrounding it… Tomorrow, the grand event...

Lift-off! (Part 1 of 4)

2006-10-06T20:33:00.000-07:00

We finally arrived at our holiday destination yesterday evening at about 7PM, weary, hungry, and tired. The two little girls did wonderfully, and there's a lot of thanks to go toward the portable DVD player we borrowed from work. After getting pizza delivered and getting the girls into bed (they were so tired and wound that I didn't think they'd get settled quickly, but fortunately the pendulum swung in our favor) I set out to hunt.

Typically once we get settled, I scope out the surroundings and get some fruit and other supplies for the next morning's breakfast, and get an idea of what's around.

So I went out and within a block or two found a little market that was open late. Sweet! They had fresh fruit, organic vanilla yogurt, organic milk, organic cereal… I started to get nervous. Some of the prices were really getting high. I didn't mind paying $1.49/pound for organic gala apples as we were only getting two of them, or even $3.99/pound for dried, organic cranberries, but you know prices are high when you get sticker shock looking at the price of bread. I didn't realize you could pay $4.59 for half a loaf of bread. After I pulled my jaw off of the floor I had recovered enough to look around for bread that wasn't 36-grain and bean organic half-loaf bread. I found some regular, whole wheat sliced bread. Yikes! $3.59 for half a loaf! I started looking for smaller bread.

I found some mini-loaves! Sweet mother of my homeland! Ukrainian rye! But besides the fact that it was $4.99 for the mini-loaf, I didn't know if everyone would share my homeland tastes for breakfast.

Then I hit the mother lode. Ezekiel 4:9 bread. Now being technically loaded, I had my PDA handy with E-Sword ready to answer my question, "What does Ezekiel 4:9 have to do with bread?" Although I didn't actually look it up at the time, I looked it up later and am really glad now that I didn't get Ezekiel 4:9 bread. If you read the chapter you'll find out that this was the time that God told Ezekiel to make bread from all sorts of wonderful organic ingredients---and that's not a bad thing in itself---but then to bake it fired up with human waste. Specifically, "with dung that comes out of a man." Whew! Am I glad I didn't get that Ezekiel 4:9 bread.

Now I'm used to paying less than 2 bucks for a loaf of fresh bread at SuperStore. Sure, it's not organic. It hasn't been blessed by a priest. It wasn't made using manna from Heaven. But it tastes good toasted with real butter and cinnamon sugar.

I decided that would end my trip to the organic market and I would forage down the street to find somewhere that sold non-organic, cheap, fresh bread. A block down I found a Safeway and I was sad and happy at the same time. I had already purchased most of our breakfast food for the few days at the organic market, and here I had a smorgasbord of cheap, mostly non-organic, foods I'd be very satisfied with.

Don't get me wrong. We're moving toward more organic foods all the time, especially thinking of our girls and their little growing selves. But I was sure glad I found a Safeway.

You put it where?

2006-09-30T19:26:00.000-07:00

For the parent there is a swirl of thoughts that wash over when seeing this photo. Doesn't this just speak, "Life with a 1-year-old"? This photo was taken back when the perpetrator, Katiana, was still 1.

I mean, there are a lot of wonderful places, both safe and unsafe, to put a sippy cup and a stretchy bunny rabbit. But the potty is not a wonderful place to put anything except two things, neither of which are a sippy cup nor a stretchy bunny.

As usual God reminds me of how this is sometimes a photo He would call "Life with a Lowell". Sometimes I don't realize the value of His fresh water, and the things He has graciously provided, and sometimes I drop them in the potty and forget all about them. And He lovingly takes a deep breath, lifts out the sippy cup and bunny to wash them clean again.

Ah, the joys of parenthood. Oh, to have the patience and grace of my Father.

(At least we always dump the potty immediately after use, so this was not the disaster it could have been...)

You are beautiful!

2006-09-29T08:03:00.000-07:00

Yesterday Katiana was putting these small, fabric, foldable laundry hampers on her head and mine. We have a blue one and a red one. I think she really liked the red one the best, and that's what she had on her head. Lots of laughs and giggles all around. And then she wanted to see what I'd look like with the red one on. When she put it over my head, she said, "You look beautiful with that on!" Such a cutie.

It also reminded me of the many times we tell both girls that they're beautiful, and what an impact that makes. And frankly, what an impact everything makes on their little, open hearts. It was a cute moment, a moment of joy, and a sobering reminder. But mostly cute.

The dirty work

2006-09-24T08:24:00.000-07:00

Foot-washing wasn't, I think, one of the most sought-after tasks 2000 years ago. I don't think it has risen much in the ranks since then, either. A couple of days ago I read John 13:3-17 where Jesus washed His disciples' feet. Now some or all of them knew by this time who He really was. And if any had doubts, they at least recognized Him as their leader. What was their Leader doing, washing their dusty, dirty, maybe sweaty feet?

After Jesus had done this He asked them, "Do you realize what I just did? You call me Teacher, Lord, etc. and that's all true, for so I am. And if I, your Teacher, your Lord, have washed your feet, you should also wash each other's feet; this is an example for you." And then He goes on to talk about how the servant is not greater than his master, and how that the one sent isn't greater than the one who sent him.

We talk about equality in God's eyes, and how that we should love people regardless of position. Here Jesus is recognizing position, and going a step further. I used to take this example to mean simply that I should be a servant to others around me. And that's true and good. But usually the "others" around me are also likely to be servants to me.

What I got out of Jesus' example this time around was that within our organizational systems (i.e. employer/employee, husband/wife/children, etc.) there are those in greater and lesser positions. And those in the greater positions should serve those in lesser positions, even in the tasks that no one wants to do.

So as the leader of our home, as a father and husband, I am taught by Jesus to serve those in my home; to do the tasks that no one wants to do. Change a stinky bum. Take out the garbage. Pick up clothes off the floor. Clean the toilet. As the leader, I'm sure I can find all sorts of things that no one likes doing, and just do them.

This is practical serving. It's not just about doing things for my peers, who will also do things for me. It's about doing things for those under my charge, and doing tasks that no one wants to do.

If I'm put in a position of leadership in my workplace the principle works there too. When an employer serves his employees, it creates a loyalty and reinforces their relationship. Employees know that the boss will do tasks that no one wants to do, just because he cares about his employees. He's putting action to his words.

It's all about love. If you love someone, let them go... (sorry, I just HAD to say that; that cliche is all too engrained...). No, if you love someone, you WILL serve them. It really comes more naturally. Sure, it's always good to get practical ideas as to how to serve but no one has to motivate you. If you love someone you will want to make them happy, to give to them without expecting in return, and to want nothing but the best for them.

As Jesus shows me more and more how He loves me I'm beginning to love other people like that. After all, He loves them like He loves me. And He serves. Not out of duty, not because that's what's commanded in the Bible. He serves because He loves.

God's statistics

2006-09-18T22:02:00.000-07:00

So I'm off again, leaving for Prince Rupert at 6AM tomorrow morning (meaning I have to get up at 4AM) to do some work for a new client there. I'm not as anxious as to how my wife and girls are going to fare at home, as the last time I was away for the week they all did wonderfully. Tasia's excited about Staci sleeping upstairs (we move the mattress upstairs when I'm gone; the girls love to come and snuggle with Mummy in the morning) and about going to the library this week. And this time she didn't shed tears when she heard I was leaving on a trip again. And I'm glad.

The thought always does cross my mind as to whether I'll ever see them again, you know, plane travel, long distances, unfamiliar environments, statistics... But I do know that God doesn't have statistics that talk about plane travel. Or really anything. Statistically it's safer to travel by plane than by car. But if it's not my time to leave this earth, I'll be safe regardless of what happens. And if it was my time to leave, I'd have left whether I travelled somewhere else or not. That's God's statistics. 100% right, all of the time.

So what's left? I'll miss my family. A lot. Sure, I have a webcam, and phone, and email, and it's only a few days, but I can't get big, squishy hugs over the Internet. And I can't kiss little soft cheeks remotely. Nor can I sit down to our always-wonderful family breakfast over the phone.

I better get to sleep... only 6 hours to go now.

Empowerment

2006-09-15T23:55:00.000-07:00

Whenever Tasia, our 4-year-old firstborn, recalls her dreams she describes them quite specifically. Especially if she's talking about groups of dreams. And especially if they have "Echos" or "Wonchers" or other interesting sub-conscious creations of her wide imagination.

Once in a while after supper she'll expound for minutes on end about recent dreams. She hasn't done this in a couple of months so I was interested to hear about her recent dreams that she's processed. Months ago she talked about "Echos", which were round objects that floated around in circles and made peculiar sorts of sounds. As for the "Wonchers", well they are unpredictable creatures, difficult to draw, who frequent dreams and imaginatory stories and are sometimes nice to her but more often are not. We have a suspicion that much of the inspiration for the Woncher race comes from real-life experiences with, or should I say perceptions of, younger sister Katiana.

A couple of days ago she talked of a dream where Wonchers were chasing her, wanting to eat her. We're interested in her dreams as we carefully protect what she consumes for content and it's another way to tell what's going on in that little vast mind. I suggested to her that next time she give some hamburgers to the Wonchers instead, and let them know that she wouldn't taste good anyway. She thought that would be a great idea, "because Wonchers like hamburgers, I think." I thought so too.

I figured that she would benefit from a bit of empowerment...

Later in the conversation she talked about Wonchers getting the upper hand in some other interaction. I told her that she could tell the Wonchers that she was their boss. Just like "Mummy and Daddy are your bosses, you are the Wonchers' boss." At least at that lucid moment, she seemed excited about the concept. She readily agreed and, well, I guess we'll wait until the next episode to see what the Wonchers may cook up...

My Doodling Friend

2006-09-10T07:56:00.000-07:00

You know, there's something I learned this morning. Jesus doodles. No, really. He does. And He did it while some important folks were asking Him questions... it kinda looked like He was ignoring them and, well, just doodling.

I'd venture to say that doodling is something all humans do... probably something Father God does too because He did create us to resemble Him in many ways.

This morning's reading took me through the story where some whistle-blowing Pharisees, working hard to keep God's people doing right, brought to Jesus a woman "caught in the very act" of adultery. Now how did they do this? Where were they? Were they watching? Was she being followed until she got into bed with someone she wasn't supposed to? Were the Pharisees hired as private detectives by someone's wife? Scary stuff.

So they brought this dirty sinner to Jesus. What shame she must have felt. Talk about awkward. But Jesus didn't feel awkward. He didn't turn red with embarrassment or pretend He didn't hear. He loved. As He always did. I bet He even loved the private detectives who brought the lady there.

So they presented their case. "Master," (they didn't see him as their master, but they figured they'd start out that way anyhow) they started. "This woman was caught. We caught her sinning. Right in the act!"

Jesus looks at the woman, who is probably still crying, probably can't bring herself to look up from the dark spots of sand her tears are making. She is scared for her life. She knows the Law, and the Law is giving her guilt, shame, and condemnation because of what she did.

"Now, in case you didn't know, Moses said in the Law that such people like this should be stoned to death. What do you have to say about that?"

It was a trap. But little did the detectives discern, they were dealing with the Almighty Creator's Son here. He was no dummy. More than that though, they were dealing with Love. They were setting a mouse trap for the wild ocean.

So Jesus took a deep breath, and they expected something more than air to come back out, but He just sat down on the sand, probably near the woman, probably down at her level. And He started doodling (John 8:6).

I've heard sermons on this story and sometimes folks try to guess what Jesus was writing on the ground. Some say He was writing the Law (Ten Commandments). Some say He was writing things that the accusers had done wrong. Neither of those thought seem to be like the Jesus I am getting to know. Everyone there already knew the Law. And Jesus wasn't about to join the accusers in throwing around His weight in that department. I bet He was just doodling. Maybe drawing a picture. Maybe designing the most efficient water-powered engine. Or maybe writing a poem.

At any rate, I'm sure the accusers were annoyed. They kept asking. So Jesus stood up. "Stoning? Yeah, I've heard of that. Scary stuff. Here's the plan. Whoever has never sinned, never done a thing wrong, you go first. Get a stone and get stoning."

You know, the funny thing is, Jesus was the only one there who could have actually picked up a stone. But I bet the woman was shocked. Maybe. I mean, I bet the Pharisees saw themselves as pretty holy. How many of these guys were going to start with the stones?

Jesus bent down and continued doodling.

But the conscience is a strange thing. And the Holy Spirit is persistant to draw us truly into right living. Even these Pharisees could still be reached. As each started to realize that they had sinned at some point in their lives, probably even today, it sunk in. Jesus' message reached their hearts, as one by one they walked away, from the oldest on. I think more than just His message touched them, at least for that instant in time, as they didn't continue to stand there. Jesus didn't ask anyone to leave, but they realized somehow they had no right to be there, no right to be ready to execute the Law's punishment.

And so all that were left were the woman, who was now in the same class as the Pharisees who had left (they had sinned, she had sinned), and the sinless One who was just sitting and doodling. I bet He caught her eye for a second and smiled a slightly crooked smile. I'm certain that at some point she started to feel His love beginning to flood, beginning to wash over.

He finishes up with His doodle, and gets up. "Check that out! Where are all those guys? Has anyone started with the stoning? Huh?"

"No one, Lord. Not one," she begins with a joy that naturally follows an encounter with Love.

Jesus says, "Well, I'm not going to start stoning either, so you might as well go now. You're welcome to leave, and hey, don't meddle with sin, eh? It really, really hurts you and everyone else around you."

Jesus wasn't reprimanding her. He hates sin because of how it wrecks lives and pulls us away from Him. That's why He didn't want her to continue sinning.

So there you have it. Doodling is a trait He passed down to us. I wondered where I had got it from.

Wanna be a leper?

2006-09-04T21:22:00.000-07:00

Jesus had the craziest sort of love. Today's devotional (Charles Spurgeon) was enlightening again...

In Mark 1:41 Jesus shows me a picture of how He became sin for me. A leper pressed through the crowd to where Jesus was and asked Jesus to heal him. I wonder how far he got before having to pull his trump card... "Hey, get out of the way! I'm a leper!" Oh, to see the crowd clear out... it would probably be akin to someone today yelling, "Move away! I have AIDS!"

The leper had broken ceremonial law to get where he was, but Jesus outdid him. Jesus actually touched the leprous man, technically becoming defiled Himself, and cleansed the leprosy from the man. Not only would you become technically "unclean" yourself had you touched a leprous person, you would be in danger of actually contracting the disease. Jesus' love for the man was bigger than His concern with getting the disease. He was, after all, human too, and I've not read anything that suggests He never got sick. His body wasn't invincible.

Just makes me thankful that he touched this leper, made me clean.

Daddy and Mr. Lowell

2006-08-24T22:23:00.000-07:00

I know most people think that their kids are the most wonderful, most amazing kids in the world. But most people don't know our kids. So they don't know that indeed, our kids are the most wonderful and amazing kids. At least that's what I think.

That's what every parent should think, I suppose. And all good parents love their kids. But you know, I really like my two little girls.

The other day Tasia decided to call me "Mr. Lowell", because "that's your name" she said. Of course, little Katiana had to continue the trend the next day. She's a cheeky little one.

This morning, at our wonderful daily outdoor family breakfast, as I was leaving Staci said, "Bye, my love." As I gave Katiana a good-bye kiss with eyes a-dancing and face full of honey mixed with chocolate cupcake she says, "Bye, my love" and puckers up to give me a kiss...

When I hear the name of either of my girls, or my wonderful wife, the first feeling that lights up is how much I really like them. I really do. Indeed, I love them.

And that's a picture, to me, of God's love for me. When He thinks of me, the first feeling that comes to His heart is a delighted feeling. Isn't that amazing? And He feels the same about each person He's created. That's what He actually feels about you. How cool is that?

The more I get to know Him, and learn things like this about Him, the more that same feeling comes to my heart when I think about Him. And even when my mouth is full or my face is dirty, it puts the biggest smile on His face, and His arms fling wide open when I reach out to give my Daddy a big hug and kiss.

Making progress

2006-08-15T23:09:00.000-07:00

I'm actually exercising.

My work is quite sedentary, most of the time. I am not scaling mountains, running marathons, and swimming the channel in my day job. At least not physically. My brain keeps fit, but my body doesn't follow suit.

So I'm exercising on the elliptical trainer for 5 minutes each morning. It's not a lot, but it's a start. That's over 30 hours per year of exercise I wasn't doing before. After a month or so of this, I'll bump up the time.

I couldn't bring myself to exercise 20-30 minutes every morning, but I could do 5 minutes. I always have 5 minutes in the morning, especially for staying in bed. So that's that. Take something you want to incorporate into your lifestyle, spend 5 minutes per day on it consistently. Maybe you won't revolutionize the world with that amount of effort, but you'll move forward.

It's all about making progress.

The gift

2006-08-08T06:25:00.000-07:00

I wrecked my camera.

On the first flight of my trip to Chicago, I wrecked it. Which is kind of a big deal. This is no ordinary digital camera. Canon's EOS 20D is a full-featured SLR that cost me about $1700. Photography is one of my hobbies, and I typically am very careful with all my technological equipment. So how did I wreck it?

In moving some things around so my carry-on baggage would be limited I moved my water bottle inside my camera case. Being that I rarely fly I forgot about things like air pressure changes, which do things like force water out of a water bottle and drown cameras in the same bag. So that's what happened. I was in the Vancouver airport, blowing out water from the buttons and display at the back of the camera, after removing the battery.

I let it dry for a few days, put the battery in, and it turned on. But it wouldn't take any pictures, or even turn off.

So I was pretty disappointed. Never having been to Chicago I wanted to take photos to my heart's content, but couldn't take one. Plus, this wasn't going to be a cheap repair, I figured.

A few days later, I tried the battery again. Same thing.

I prayed that Jesus would fix my camera, but He hadn't. Well, I figured that was beyond my control. I'd get an estimate for the repair, likely just buy a smaller digital camera, and set this one aside until we could afford to fix it.

But this morning, on the morning where I hear the impending thunder of work's avalanche, I tried one more time.

He fixed it! My camera now works! Thank You, Jesus; that's a wonderful gift on this super-busy day.

Breaking wind

2006-08-03T16:10:00.000-07:00

So since Sunday I've been in Chicago, Illinois for some IBM training to which my employer sent me. I guess it's supposed to be the windy city, but it hasn't really been windy since I've been here. It's been very hot and humid as a jungle, but not windy.

Speaking of wind, I went up to the John Hancock Center (100-story tower downtown Chicago), where on the 96th floor there is an observation deck you can look out over the city. In one area you go to a section that has an open deck (protected by a strong screen) where you experience the open air of 1000 feet up.

It wasn't really windy, not even up there. I know I keep saying that, but I expected more wind for Chicago. But there must have been some wind, as you could feel slight tremors in the floor way up that high, every few moments... good thing I'm not all that afraid of heights. It was really neat to see so far in all four directions.

But today is a wonderful day because there is only one more sleep before I see my wonderful wife and two little girls. I've missed them immensely, and more each day I've been away. Sure, it's nice to be connected via phone and webcam from time to time, but it's nothing like being together in person. Kinda makes me think about Heaven... gonna be glad to be there. To see the One to misses me so much, and wants me to meet Him in person. And there, we will not have anymore good-byes. We will be able to hang out for as long as we want. And eat grapes...

Computerize me

2006-07-27T13:20:00.000-07:00

One of the facets of my job is troubleshooting computer systems. Most people don't have an understanding of just how complex it can be. And that's just fine, most of the time. But there are times folks wonder why it often takes longer to troubleshoot a computer problem than any of us expected. I usually used a "car analogy" to give some insight, which I may post about at a different time. But yesterday I was trying to think of other industries which had so many unknowns and variables to deal with when troubleshooting, and I thought of medical doctors.

The human body is undisputably complex, and I think there are significant comparisons to the structure of a computer.

The first layer is the hardware. In the computer, the hardware consists of physical equipment such as the system board, power supply, and the hard drive. In the human body we have bones, muscles, the physical brain, and other body organs.

The next layer is the software. In a computer, this is the operating system (Windows, for example), and would include other programs installed on the computer such as games, accounting programs, and office productivity programs. In the human body, I'd point to the intangible systems that run the body. The brain, without our interaction, tells the heart to keep pumping, muscles to contract in response to pain signals received by nerves, and so on. The software is also controllable by the third layer.

The third layer is the user. In the computer scenario, the user is the one who makes use of the computer hardware and software to perform tasks, play games, or wreak havoc by forwarding chain letters via email. In the human body, I think the "user" is the soul, or the "real you". You are the one who instructs your brain to move muscles as you get up to grab a glass of water, or relax on the couch. And you usually don't have to worry about the underlying, fundamental tasks your software executes just to get the hardware working. You just click on a button and it happens.

So when something goes wrong in either scenario, the task of troubleshooting is very complex, with any or all of the three layers having an effect on the root problem, on each other, and on the symptoms.

Ah, analogies. Where would I be without them?

A crazy thing

2006-07-24T21:40:00.000-07:00

My Jesus despite me, You love me, You like
me
You're happy to call me Your friend

The honestly eloquent words Charlie Dodrill sings in his song, All I Have to Send truly shake my understanding of who Jesus is, and what He thinks of me. It's really thrilling to try to comprehend. He likes me? ME? Impossible. I knew He loved me, but never knew he liked me. God is love, so He pretty much has to love everyone, and everyone includes me. And I've heard it all... "Love is a choice." "Love is a decision." These I applied to how God saw me. But you know, "like" is never a choice. It's never just a decision.

Think of a person that you really like. Do you have to decide to like them? Did you? Chances are, something sparked between you and them that grew into a relationship in which you like each other.

Now being a father of two precious little girls, I see how that can start right at birth. I delight in my little girls (not all the time, mind you), and love them fiercely. Regardless of what they do. And the ways they express their love for me as they grow up is, well, there's nothing you can get from a little one that's quite as exquisitly sweet.

With my love You are so proud
You hold it high, shout it out loud

Jesus is thrilled with my love for Him. When I sincerely sit and tell Him, "Jesus, I really love You," He's tickled through and through. That's one of the most amazing, crazy things I ever heard.

She believes

2006-07-23T22:23:00.000-07:00

Tasia, our 4-year-old-going-on-8 daughter, was sick some days ago with something that bothered her stomach. She is very concerned with throwing up, especially when it's someone else who's doing it. Fortunately for all of us, there hasn't been much sickness in our house for a long time. But this 2-day bout was her time. She was out of it. She wanted to sleep and looked as pale as a glow-in-the-dark star in broad daylight. Poor thing.

After she threw up the first time, we prayed that Jesus would help her tummy feel better. Later that evening, she talked about how Jesus was going to heal her and help her so that she wouldn't throw up anymore. Well, the next day she still wasn't feeling very good, and threw up again. She said, "Sometimes Jesus doesn't get there quickly enough to stop you from throwing up." We had to smile.

But on the third day she was feeling a lot better, and was so happy that Jesus had healed her now.

You know, it amazes me to see how she just believes that Jesus exists, simply because He's so much a part of our lives and conversations. We don't doubt it, and we talk about how Jesus takes care of us, we talk to Him, and tell her that one day He'll take us all to Heaven. We were talking about Heaven today on the way to the park... She says, "In Heaven the tigers won't bite you. We will play and wrestle together."

She believes because we've told her, and she knows He is important in our lives every day. It makes me glad we don't do Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy... I wouldn't want to one day tell her that Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy are not as real as she had once believed. I would wonder what she would think of one other invisible Person we had convinced her of up until that point.

The echo

2006-06-30T08:22:00.000-07:00

Mostly, I am an echo.

When a sound reaches a material, it may echo back. But it also may resonate. Depending on the material, you'll get a different sort of echo and resulting resonance. Like if you stood in a huge metal box and shouted your name, it would quickly echo back to you, slightly mingled with the sound of metal. The box would continue to ring for a little bit, however... the resulting resonance from your voice. The resonant sound only happens as a result of the source sound, yet is different in some way.

When He calls out to me His love, there is an echo back to Him. When that reaches Him, He hears something that makes Him smile. This is wonderous beyond what I can comprehend. And when the resulting resonance rings for a while it reaches Him and all around me.

I have sonance. But it is nothing, silent without His shout, His song. I want to resonate.

Working for The Man

2006-04-01T20:10:00.000-08:00

The last number of months have gotten so busy for me in my business that I have had an extremely small amount of personal downtime. And even though back in December 2005 I blogged about scheduling playtime, I didn't do it very often.

I did take 11 days off around Christmas, and that was exceptionally wonderful. I haven't taken time off like that in many years.

Lately I've been turning down work, and I haven't been able to service my existing clients as well as I'd wanted to because of the volume of work. And more work generates more accounting, more non-billable administration, and more stress to accelerate the business planning to hire another person (a clone of me, preferably) to work with me. But with all that busyness, who has time to plan?

I believe God had a different plan. Starting this coming Monday (April 3) I'll be working full-time for Voda Computer Systems (www.vodagroup.com) doing much of the same work as I do now along with more challenging and exciting project-based work for larger clients. All without most of the administration and accounting that I have to maintain today to keep my business running. This is an excellent opportunity for me and will benefit my clients, myself, my family, and Voda as they are eager to get more high-end support folks working within the company.

In the next few months I'll start seeing more free time in the evenings to spend with my wife as well as on hobbies and leisure activities. This definitely makes a difference in how well I feel overall, and increases my resources to give to my family and work.

I'm very thankful to God for this opportunity. He's truly my Boss, and I'll continue to strive to do my very best in this new position He's provided.